#i think everyone should try to stick their head out the window like a dog at least once in their life

[lokideservesahug]

Old Habits Die Hard

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Pairing: Jenson Button x reader but focuses on Mark Webber x reader

Warnings: Bit of sexism (because that's reality of women in motorsports), pining, I get to revel in dramatic irony but I'm curious as to what conclusions you draw. Speculation about having children but only a dog is confirmed. One swear word, innuendos.

Notes: I wrote this yesterday + today so it's probably very bad. It still isn't the one I started with but I thought that if Jenson doesn't know events then neither should you just for now! But please let me know what you think of this! Also, this is my 1000th post I believe, so 🥳!

Summary: You and Mark are finally reunited when you're hired as a Channel 4 reporter, Toto Wolff begins to cook up a plan to get everyone's favourite Mercedes driver to return in 2025 and Jenson still doesn't know what these bloody page things are.

Series Masterlist

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~Late 2023~

You take a deep breath before knocking on the door in front of you. You shake your head, you're a multiple time Formula 1 world champion, knocking on the door to the Channel 4 CEO shouldn't faze you. You raise your first but at the slightest touch, the door swings open. You cautiously lean forward and stick your head in the door. "Hello?"

At your words, a young, blonde woman, sat behind a desk shoots up. "Hi, Y/N right?" You smile at the woman and nod. "Hi, I'm Rachel." You hold out a hand which she eagerly takes and shakes. "Lovely to meet you, I hope I'm not too early." She shakes her head. "No, you're perfectly on time. Mr Jefferson is ready to see you now I believe." You nod and thank the woman, and head forwards the door to the left of her desk.

The first thing you notice when you open the tall mahogany door is how bright the room is. The tall floor-ceiling windows allowing a lot of light to be cast on the desk and the three chairs sat around it. As you enter the room, the bald man at the far side of the desk meets your eyes and stands up, gesturing to one of the armchairs opposite him. "Hello, Mrs Button. Lovely to meet you." You sit down and shake the man's outstretched hand." Smiling at the pleasantries. He sits down and adjusts his crisp suit jacket, allowing you to take in more of the surroundings. One key thing that you hadn't noticed yet is the fact that someone is occupying the other armchair. Someone very familiar to you.

You look away, desperate to not meet Mark's eyes. You hadn't seen him in a few years and even though you'd been fine after... that night, the relationship hadn't been the same. What was once a relationship you held so highly, became an existence where you kept to minimal contact after he left the grid, that turned to occasional birthday wished to nothing at all. You focus on your breathing, desperate to not get lost in your thoughts about the Aussie. You don't need to think like that, you've moved on and you assume he has; besides, he was the one that let the contact between you drift away despite your best efforts.

You can all but feel his eyes pulling you to pieces and when he talks in an all to friendly tone, you whip your head towards him. "Hello Y/L/N. Lovely to see you again." And as you look Mark Webber in the eyes for what must be the first time in years, you almost forgot how well you could read him (and how good he looked). You curse yourself for picking up the hurt twinge in the end of his words, hoping that it doesn't plague your mind at a later date (you know it will).

Yet still, you smile at the Aussie to your side, after all this time still finding that his presence brings you some semblance of comfort. "Hey Webber. Gosh I haven't seen you in what? Three years?" He nods, voice still holding a view into his feelings "Something like that. But uh- time flies when you're having fun, doesn't it? Uh, congratulations by the way... On the family." You roll your eyes and try and ignore his voice crack, clearly showing his emotion. "The media love to go wild with that one. No one's confirmed anything. I could have a million cats for all they know and they'd still claim what they currently are."

Mark smiles at the familiarity of speaking to you so freely once again and tries not to notice that you didn't directly adress the family. He decides not to ponder on it too much, the thought of you having such a domestic life with or without the "perfect family" with someone that want him, making him feel a familiar sickness to the stomach.

"What have you been up to then?" You glance at Stan once again, who is sorting through papers, and decide to oblige Mark in the small talk for a little bit longer. "Oh you know, same old really, a bit of racing and testing here and there, travelling, getting older, nothing too exciting." Mark laughs at your words. "I feel that..." Silence envelopes you once again and you're brought back to the memory of the two of you. A place that probably isn't too far from here, 11 years ago. You interrupt the pregnant pause. "Look, I really don't want things to be awkward between us. I know we were fine on the race track after...... that evening but this is different and I don't want things to be uncomfortable."

He nods. "Yeah I dont want things to be awkward. I mean we are both grown adults, I'm sure we can handle working together." You let out a sigh of relief and go to respond but the clearing of a throat draws your attention. You turn to Stan. "So Y/N, let's get straight to the point, there's no need to mess you around. I called you in here because I want to offer you a position to become one of Channel 4's presenters for the upcoming season." Your eyes widen for a moment before you furrow your brows taking his words in. "We need someone that knows the ins and outs of Formula 1. What makes it tick. Someone that can provide insightful commentary and accurate analysis. And we all think that you'd be perfect for the job."

Well talk about an ego boost...

You let his words sink in for a moment before you point to the man on your right, slightly confused. "What about Mark?" Stan lets out a hearty chuckle and grins. "Actually, if you agree, we plan on pairing you up with Mark. Our social media team say that you've been a historically good pairing and will fair well on camera. And having both a former driver and a former WAG's perspective will really make for thrilling entertainment." His words make you freeze.

It's as if you've been submerged by a giant bucket of ice water. Former- you don't don't want to think of what he said. You feel the old media training (or lack thereof) clawing inside you, begging to escape. It would be so easy to just put him in his place... To tell yet another ignorant, knowledgeless power exactly who you were. You breathe in slowly. No, that'll be no good and he's probably confused. Heck he's the CEO for for of Channel 4, who's to say he's even watched F1 before. You try and play his words off with small chuckle - that comes out a bit too dry for your liking -. "I uh, hope I'm not reduced to that these days. I won six times the amount if championships as my husband, if anything he's the WAG." You see Mark shift in the corner of your eye, covering his grin with his hand.

Stan just waves his hand. "Oh well you know, its just a label. It's a selling point, being a former WAG gives you a certain type of insight if anything." You furrow your brows, this time in rising frustration. Is he being intentionally dense? "But I'm a former driver not WAG." You realise how harsh your words come out and try and real your hostility back a bit. "But you are right about other aspects." Stan though, finally cottons on to your growing frustration and holds his hands out in surrender. "Alright no more of that WAG talk, whatever that means." You nearly laugh at the irony but he continues "We value you for your experience and accomplishments, not just your marital status. But that and the clear drive and passion you have for the spirt is why we want you on out team."

You hum, thinking over his words. Well it would be nice to be back in the paddock, however, Jenson would also be there, is that a good thing, who would look after your dog if you were both gone? You shake your head. "How often would I appear, do you know?" "We'd like you to appear on all of our live broadcasts. However, we understand that you do have other commitments so what we usually do is put people on a trial period of six months. You do it, tell us what you think and you can decide the further steps to take from there based on your feelings but also with audience feedback as well." You nod at his words, them seemingly making sense and seeming to be a fair offer.

Well, returning to the paddock doesn't sound all too bad. You'd pretty much ignored its existence since you left, desperate to not get to attached once again and long for the feeling of going 200 mph once more. Your eyes flicker over to Mark. "How often would he appear?" Stan glances at Mark who up until this point had been quietly observing the conversation. "We'd like Mark to appear with you on all if not the large majority of broadcasts. Your individual, personal touches?" He leans back and beings his hand to his mouth in a chefs kiss, making you and Mark chuckle. "You'd have an extra something our competitors don't and we need that."

You nod at his words, well you've always pleased the Mercedes media team in the past content wise so clearly you have something there. "What about Coulthard?" Stan nods, clearly used to being asked this many questions in matters like this. "David is a valuable presenter but after working with us for so long, he wants to take a step back and have a bit less involvement this year. He's not getting any younger."

He holds his hands up in defence "His words not mine." You nod "Well can I think over things? Jenson has his own job at Sky Sports so as appealing as the offer sounds, I'll have to talk to him about it." Stan nods and stands. "Of course, take your time and think about it over the next few days." He hands you a card. "Once you have your decision, we'll be on the other end of this line." You take the crisp card and run your finger over the edge as you say goodbye to the man and give a small nod to Mark.

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~March 2024~

The familiar smells and sounds invade your sense as you make your way to the Channel 4 group in the media tent. You show your media pass and the security guard who clearly recognises you. He nods "Welcome Miss Y/L/N." Your eyes widen slightly as you smile at the man. "Thank you and it's Mrs Button but you can just call me Y/N." The security guard looks down bashfully for a moment as he expression turns more friendly. "Off course and have a nice day Mrs Button." You wish him well and carry on into the media pen. You mutter a short "Miss Y/L/N? Haven't been called that in years." But find yourself bumping into someone's side. "Oh my gosh I'm terribly sorry." A familiar chuckle makes your cheeks warm as Mark just rolls his eyes and guides you to the briefing area. And for the first time in years, it feels like old times.

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The camera man gives you a two minute warning as Mark turns to you. "I'm curious as to how you fare in front of the camera Y/L-Button." You giggle at his words "Oh shush you." Mark just shrugs "What? Old habits die hard, I called you Y/L/N for years, Button is going to take some getting used to." You grin at his words (and ignore the voice in the back of your mind asking if it would take time for Mark to adjust to calling you Webber instead). "You've known me long enough to not need to call me that Webber." He just leans on a nearby pillar and grins. "Well some things don't change whether you like it or not and deep down, you're still the same Y/L/N after all of this time."

You tilt your head and respond in a playful manner. "I hope so. You still as bad at racing as you once were?" Mark feigns being hurt as he clutches his left breast. "You wound me." A distant call for the start of filming cuts across your moment and you take a deep breath in. You turn and face the camera. "I'm ready." You assume that Mark takes his place beside you because when the camera starts a few moments later, you're both ready to go.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

"Now enough of us talking, let's cut to David Coulthard who's currently walking down the pitlane." You breathe a deep sigh of relief as the light of the camera stops. "You alright there, Button? You look tense" You nod. "Yeah, that was just a bit more stressful than I thought it would be... and I thought you weren't calling me that." "Ah you know I'm just teasing. You were great out there, you looked like a natural." You turn to him and are suddenly hit by the realisation of how close your faces are. "Oh, thank you!" Mark notices the closeness as well but doesn't pull away. Instead opting to lock eyes with you and extend the moment further. "Any time. And if you ever need any advice on how to charm the hearts of the viewers. Don't be afraid to ask the master." Mark's smirk makes you roll your eyes. "Oh yeah? And who might that be?"

And not that your proud of it, but old habits really must die hard, especially when you find yourself glancing down at Mark's lips. Mark leans a forward a fraction more as he responds. "Why me of course!" You just raise an eyebrow but the sudden realisation of where you are and how intimate the moment is crashes into you like a ton of bricks. The thought of people looking and the memory of... that evening making you turn towards the camera, ignoring Mark.

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Now the last thing you expected to do on your first day at the team was interview your old boss but you can't say you're surprised. At least it's nice to see your old team principal. "Toto!" You call his name and he turns to you, eyes widening before he hugs you. "Oh hello you, I didn't know that you were doing this now." He gestures to the microphone in your hand. "Yeah, it's a new addition." He grins as you turn to speak to the camera man, his usual strictness being put to one side for a moment, replaced with a hint of warmth and fondness at seeing his favourite driver again (not that he'd ever admit that of course).

"Well it's lovely to see you and you look lovely as usual." You scrunch your nose at the towering team principal, used to his antics over the years. "Oh shush you, I'm not here to talk about joining Mercedes or anything interesting I'm afraid." Toto chuckles but unbeknownst to you, your throwaway comment has just sparked a genius idea inside of Toto's mind that he'd determined to put into action.

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Jenson stands across the paddock, just finishing one segment of the sky sports coverage for this weekend. Gosh it's already a lot and it's only the first weekend of the season. He lets out a sigh and all too easily accepts the welcoming arms enveloping him from behind. Wait- he sharply turns only to be met with your familiar face. He lets out a small sigh of relief and wraps you in a hug of his own. "Hey sweetheart." You breath in the familiar scent of him and mumble into his shirt.

He pushes you away from his chest slightly, careful to still keep you close. "Say again sweetheart, I didn't get a word of that." You roll your eyes. And pick up his hand, playing with his fingers. "I said that I just interviewed Toto and its a weird feeling. Being back in this environment in a completely different way." Jenson just nods and squeezes your hand, understating exactly how the inner conflict feels. "But I'm sure you were incredible at it, as you always are." And as you clearly appear to be excited excited the matter, it just makes the Brit grin. You meet his eyes and sigh, winding your arms around his neck. You tilt your head "Who turned you into a sap today?" Jenson just chuckles yet remains cool. "Well I can't help but also feel happy when I see you feeling so overjoyed." You chuckle and look down, the proud look in his sparkling eyes making you feel a bit shy.

You connect your lips with Jenson's (and silently thank him for stopping in such a secluded place). However, unbeknownst to the both of you, it wasn't secluded enough to shield you both from the eyes of a certain jealous Aussie.

Jenson responds to the kiss by putting his arms around your waist and you feel yourself get lost in the moment. You moan Jenson's name as you become aware if the fact that you should probably be finding your way back to the Channel 4 group but you ca6n seem to pull yourself away.

And in the same way you feel unable to pull away from Jenson's embrace, Mark feels unable to tear his eyes away from the pair of you. Jealousy and hurt bubbling in his get like a hot storm.

You finally pull away and litter a few kisses around Jenson's face "Right, I have to go but I'll see you later and I love you." Jenson grins and pulls out towards him once again. "I love you too but why the rush? Can't stay and spend a few minutes with your favourite driver." You wriggle out of his hold and leave him with a sweet "Oh I didn't know Nico Rosberg was here. Guess I have to find him now!"

Jenson just chuckles and grabs your arm as you try and walk away. The both of you ignoring the influx of sky sports and other media personnel setting up not far from you. "Not so fast sweetheart. I thought I was your favourite driver. Should I worry about being demoted?" You let out a thoughtful hum, the sound making your lips buzz for a moment. "Well, it depends... There is this one old racing driver. He's long retired now. But gosh, he's he's incredibly dashing and handsome. He commentates now but he just gets me so flustered!"

Jenson's smirk parts as his lips breaks out into a toothy grin. "Oh really? He sounds like quite a bloke! Do I need to be jealous?" You raise your eyebrows and nod "Oh yes, I'd leave my husband for him any day!" Jenson looks down in a deflated act. "Oh darling, how could you break a man's heart?" You can't control it any longer and you feel a laugh bubble out of your chest. You try and speak in between laughs but aren't too successful. "Just- If you see him, let him know that I'd love to give him a massive kiss." Jenson, fakes wiping a tear which makes your laugher turn into breathless cackles. "Such a lucky blo-" Jenson can't manage to get much more out before you're smashing your faces together once again. Desperate to not hear his band attempt at a witty come back.

You pull away and look into his eyes, the blue of them catching the light in Such an angle that it makes them glisten. "Oh look." Your soft words make his expression become more lovestruck. "There he is." Jenson grins before you reel back. "Shit... I need to be broadcasting. Now!"

You give him a quick peck on the cheek and rush away. Jenson finds himself grinning and letting out a small laugh as he watches you trail away. Suddenly, a nearby Sky Sports person laughs loudly and at the sharp sound Jenson turns to look at the man. And he could have sworn he hears the worker mutter your name under just breath. His curiosity and desire to defend you get the best of him and he taps the man on the shoulder. "Excuse me, what did you say?" The worker turns, baseball cap on his head casting a shadow over his eyes that is fixed when he looks up to meet Jenson's eyes.

Jenson's tone is firm yet still polite as he continues. "I heard you mentioned someone's name. Who were you talking about?" Now Jenson will be one of the first people to admit that he was good at jumping the gun in his youth. But when someone mentions his wife's name? Well he won't allow anything but praises to be spoken about you and as it stands, the worker might as well be slandering you.

And the ground must be especially interesting because the capped man is finding everywhere to look apart from Jenson's eyes as he mutters a quiet "Mark." Jenson's eyes widen a fraction, not quite what he was expecting but he continues, trying to deem more friendly than confrontational as it stands. "That's a bit random. What about him?"

The worker now picks up on Jenson's interest and lack of ill intent and so continues. He grins slyly and the look makes Jenson feel a bit unwell "Oh I was just making a joke about how I thought your girl was talking about Mark earlier that's all. I thought she had a thing for him" Jenson's eyes widen, that's the last thing he expected the worker to say or for other workers behind the man to hum in agreement with. Jenson tries to keep his expression neutral but he crosses his arms, almost feeling a bit defenceless. "What makes you think she has a thing for him?"

The man opposite Jenson just shrugs nonchalantly. "Well she looked all excited and flirty with him earlier. They were really close and whispering." Jenson feels his heart sink for a moment. He trusts your loyalty of course he does. And he's certainly aware that you're an adult woman with your own autonomy.

Blimey, you were close with Mark first, if anything, Jenson should be happy that you're finally becoming friends again. He ignores a small nagging feeling in the back of his head, knowing full well it's only there because of other people's gossip and falsities. Jenson tries to get an answer pinpointing exactly when only to get another shrug and a generic answer claiming that it's been a regular occurrence over the past few days, in response.

Another man behind the main worker suddenly laughs. Jenson looks at the shorter, clearly younger worker and instead addresses him, head tilting once again in curiosity and confusion. "What?" The younger man just smiled "Nothing! Well I just- I grew up on you lot and for the longest time thought that Y/N and Mark were married so this is just a bit funny."

Jenson just shakes his head, the exchange seeming more and more bizarre as it continues unfolding. Gosh a few minutes ago he was just happily having a quiet moment with you and now he has to put all of these misconceptions about you to rest. Gosh this day is already tiring. "Well Y/N already talks highly of him and when you announced your engagement, like everyone else, I was shocked. I mean at least half of the Internet thought you had a polyamorous thing going on or at least a ménage-trois thing." The first man chimes in again "I mean I don't think Webber would be oppose enough having a piece of th-."

Jenson's glare could kill. Silencing all the other workers that choruses similar sentiments of rumours about Mark objecting at the wedding and other preposterous gossip. He's never known anyone to halt in their words so quickly but at his angry look, the worker realises his wrong and bows his head. Jenson tries to contain his anger at the objectification of you and instead focuses on his breathing (something you've encouraged him to also do in moments of high emotion). Jenson takes a deep inhale through his nose.

"Now if you're done talking about Y/N like that, I hope you can realise how preposterous those lies are. They're just things spouted by people with too much time on their hands and I don't appreciate you feeding into such bad words about my wife like that." As if following choreo, the sky workers nod. The main one holding up his hands, clearly quite ballsy as he adds. "Look I'm sorry man. But you have to admit you'd make a pretty attractive threesome." Jenson just raises an eyebrow and tries to ignore his warming cheeks, not even willing to entertain the thought... Not even for a moment... No, not in the slightest... Well if his brain thinks about it, its just because the worker mentioned it... He shakes his head.

Jenson speaks in a tone that'd be used to scold a child. "And no talk of that please. I'm more than happy with my girl." The man just nods again. Another worker, this time a much taller one puts a hand on the workers shoulder and addresses Jenson. "Sorry man. We'll leave all the stirring to Channel 4." At Jenson's furrowed brow he continues. "Not anything serious, they're just using Mark and Y/N's relationship as a selling point." Jenson just nods his head. Finally feeling more secure in the conversation now. "Yeah, well they love to make stuff up out of nothing."

The group lets out a collective laugh and if you were here, you'd you'd Jenson's look one of a lost puppy. "Oh you poor innocent man." One of the workers laughs "Sorry. You must have never heard of the 'Deleted Pages' that's all." Jenson shakes his head. "The delete- what are you talking about?" Hearing the sincerity of his words, the worker straightens up. "Oh, you really haven't? Uh nothing then..." The camera man calls for the workers to start filming in two minutes and the group begin to scatter. "Wait no, don't give me that. What are you talking about? What are those deleted pages, why are you all acting so weird?" Jenson doesn't have much time to get an answer though before a microphone is being thrust into his hand and he's being forced to film yet another segment.

Now you'd spoken to Jenson before about... that night. Not the ins and outs but now he's left curious. What happened and does it truly mean more than you let on but more importantly, does it have anything to do with these blimmin' "Deleted Pages."? Pages that everyone seems to know of but no one seems to know anything about. Jenson just huffs. Gosh this season really was going to be the end of him, especially if he doesn't find a way to satiate his curiosity.

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Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

As always, likes, comments and especially feedback is always welcome! And I'd love to hear what you think!!!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj

[halcyon-autumn]

Wheel of Time Characters and the Cars They'd Drive

Written by someone who knows extremely little about cars

Rand: The poor boy buys like a standard issue sedan and then a bunch of weirdos start following him around and telling him that the car is "special." Moiraine spray paints dragon decals on his car one night while he's sleeping. People keep trying to slash his tires but he always catches them just in time. You know how it goes

Perrin: Pickup truck with normal sized wheels. Great for helping people move! Also great for running people over. Duality of man etc etc. There's always a dog in the back sticking its head out the window, but Perrin does not know this dog or where it came from

Nynaeve: She buys a used car that looks like it's falling apart and everyone tells her that she overpaid. Four months in, they realize that the last owner did a bunch of Fast and Furious style modifications and Nynaeve could probably outrace God

Mat: Bike. This SHOULD NOT WORK but somehow he's still on time to everything. This baffles everyone, including him

Egwene: Something VERY practical with great gas mileage, like a honda civic. That's the only practical car I know because it's what my dad told me to buy.

Elayne: Lexus. Mat makes fun of her for driving a luxury car and she's like "????? it's not like it's a Cadillac?"

Liandrin: A Cadillac

Moiraine: A jeep, but the nicest most upgraded version. Unless there's a car that's better for off-roading, in which case she drives that instead

Lan: A cool classic car. A car that can drift (maybe all cars can drift but Lan's definitely can). He thinks that Nynaeve's car is The Coolest for some reason

Lanfear: A horse! Just kidding. She drives a silver range rover because an article I googled said that range rovers are the king of the road.

Bonus:

Asmodean: the car type Does Not Matter all that matters is that he has a vanity license plate

[queenslimeball]

Living in a Bush

Kurt Kunkle x male!reader

Requested by; @batzfailz

Contents; Fluff

Summary; M/n gets in Kurt's spree before recognising his childhood bestfriend.

Kurt bobs his head along to the music in his car while he sits on his phone. He's been driving people around on spree all day, but just now he's started to get tired. One more. He keeps on telling himself. Just one more, then I'll go home. There's been seven one mores.

The wait for one more passenger seems to be forever. There's no shock to it, though. It's the middle of winter and it's almost 1am. Kurt puts his car into drive, about to give up and drive home, but he gets a notification from his phone. One more.

He instantly clicks on accepting the passenger and puts his phone down. He doesn't really care who he picks up. He's just excited to talk to one last person. He follows the directions, and pulls up to where he hopes the person he's getting is.

Kurt lowers the window and sticks his head out to look for who he's getting. Nobody around. Strange. Kurt jumps and almost yells when he hears the door open and close behind him. He twists around with a smile to see what kind of person he's picked up this time.

"Hey, my name's Kurt!" He introduces like usual. But something seems different. He feels like he knows the boy sitting in his backseat and he can't quite place it. He opens his mouth to ask if he knows him, but the boy has already started talking.

"Nice to meet you, man. I'm so glad you could pick me up, like– you would not believe the day I've had." The boy starts. Kurt turns around and looks at his phone. He starts to drive with the directions from the app.

"I went over to my friend's for a chat, right? And she ended up inviting every damn person she knew, so it ended up a fuckin' party when I was not after that. But then her dog ran out because someone left the door open and everyone went out to find it and..."

Kurt's mind channels out the boy's non-stop talking as he stares at the name on his phone. M/n. He knows this guy from somewhere. But he just can't figure out where. He dives real deep into his memory, but can't find anything.

He looks into the rear view mirror and stares at M/n for a moment. Not to be creepy, but as if trying to solve the puzzle. Solve the puzzle.

While their parent's chat away, incoherent to their little ears, the two boys sit on the floor, rummaging through a pile of puzzle pieces to try and complete it. There are only few pieces layed out already. Neither of them can seem to figure out what next.

"Kurt, seriously, kid? You got the right piece in your hand." His dad says, pointing at where it should go. All the parents look his way. A small Kurt looks at the piece in his hand and looks at the floor. He fits it in place, looking rather proud of himself after. The small M/n looks just as proud of him, like he's just changed the world.

M/n! Kurt smiles to himself as he remembers his childhood friend. He looks in the rear view mirror again. He wants to tell him about it, but M/n just keeps on going on. It's like he doesn't stop. Kurt hears a slight pause and quickly jumps in.

"Hey, uh! I think I know you." Kurt says quickly, not wanting to let M/n start rambling again. He glances over his shoulder at him with a smile, hoping he remembers.

"...I don't think so, man." M/n replies, looking directly at Kurt, as if to try and remember his face.

"I think so." Kurt replies. "When we were kids... we went to school together... our parents were friends.. but I moved away. Kurt!"

M/n's face changes very quickly. "Woah! Oh my god, Kurt? Like, Kunkle? No way!"

"See, I told you!"

"Wow, I couldn't even recognise you. Sorry about that, man." M/n laughs, more out of embarrassment. Kurt shrugs, not taking any offence to it. "I guess it's the hair..?"

"It's all good. I wouldn't recognise me either, so it's okay."

Kurt runs around the garden, searching every perimeter. He spots a bush rustle, and he narrows his eyes. He slowly approaches, grabbing a toy sword on the way to prod at the bush. It rustles again, and Kurt giggles.

"Are you in there?" Kurt asks, sticking the sword further in. The "ow!" That comes from the bush proves him right. Kurt lowers down and crawls into the bush. He finds M/n curled up inside. He playfully gives him a push.

"Found ya!" Kurt exclaims, curling up with M/n in the bush. "It's nice in here, isn't it?"

"I don't really wanna leave." M/n nods in agreement.

"We could stay here forever." Kurt suggests, confidence in his gentle voice. "My parents can have the house, it's fine."

"Really? That sounds so fun!" M/n replies excitedly. They both giggle, Kurt's dirty blond hair becoming ruffled by the lose twigs. "Boys! Dinner is ready!" It's Kurt's mother.

"Shh! shh! shh!" "Quiet!"

Kurt had pulled over somewhere, anywhere, it doesn't matter. He's climbed into the back so he can catch up with M/n after so long.

"So what brings you to Azusa?" Kurt asks.

"I moved out, but it's more affordable here, so..." M/n shrugs.

"You have your own place!? That's crazy, man. I'm still at my parents'." Kurt replies, scratching the back of his neck.

"It's crazy we're not living in a Bush together, right?" M/n jokes.

"Oh my god! You remember that?" Kurt laughs. "We were so sure we'd stay out there forever."

"The rain kinda put me off, to be honest." M/n chuckles.

The laughter dies down, and they're left with a silence. Not exactly awkward, but unreadable. Neither can quite tell what's going on as they stare into each other's eyes.

"I missed you." Kurt admits, breaking the silence. What he intended to say was "How's life treating you?" . But, his mouth has betrayed him.

M/n is flattered. He doesn't know how to react at first, just making sounds between a laugh and a heavy exhale. "I missed you, too."

Kurt stands by his family car as he stares into M/n's eyes. Tears have already escaped down his face. His parents are moving back and forth from the house to the trunk with bags.

"You're leaving?" M/n is crying now, too.

"I didn't know." Kurt admits, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

"You can't leave.."

"I'm sorry!" Kurt cries out as they both dash into each other's arms, sobs escaping from both of them. Kurt's parents awkwardly try to step around them as they hug and cry for what seems to be a little too long.

"C'mon, kid. We're going." Kurt's dad says, opening the door and nodding towards it to try and get Kurt to hurry up.

Kurt looks back to M/n. It's the hardest decision of his life so far, even when it's not a decision that he can even make. He can't choose to stay, as much as he wants to. He slowly steps back from M/n, their arms falling limp from each other.

"I'll never forget you." Kurt promises.

"I won't forget you either."

"I'll find you. I know I will." He says, looking over his shoulder as he gets in the car. Kurt's dad slams the door shut, and gets in the car, too. The car gradually starts to drive into the distance, but M/n chases after as fast as his little legs can carry him. Which, ultimately, is not very fast. He trips over a pothole and hits the asphalt on his forearms and chest. He lifts his head in a whip, not caring about the physical pain, but the emotional.

He makes eye contact with Kurt through the back window as the car disappears from sight.

"I, uh– Really don't wanna say goodbye again, y'know. So I was wondering.." Kurt murmurs quietly, feeling too awkward to spit the words out he needs.

"Are you gonna ask for my number?" M/n said it for him, which is a huge relief. Kurt points and nods.

"Yeah, that!"

"I'd love for you go have it." M/n assures, making sure Kurt doesn't feel nervous about this. They exchange numbers and save their contacts, making sure they've got it right before anything else.

"Haha... uh... maybe we could go out sometime?" Kurt questions.

"Like a date?"

"Like a date, yeah!"

The boys had snuck into M/n's sister's room. It's much different to their usual hangout spots, but they're too young to care.

Kurt sits at the small, child's table, pushing a teddy bear out the way, and M/n sits opposite. They pretend to sip tea from the empty teacups, discussing all sorts of things that go on in their underdeveloped minds.

"I brought you to this restaurant to ask you something." M/n says, getting off the chair and standing by the table. He slowly sinks onto one knee. "Kurt, will you marry me?" He asks with a haribo ring.

Kurt feigns an overdramatic gasp. He nods. "Yes, yes, yes!" He stands from the table and M/n puts the ring on the wrong finger, but neither notice. They jump about, holding onto each other.

"What are you boys so happy about?" M/n's mother asks as she enters to put some clothes away into the sister's wardrobe.

"I'm gonna marry Kurt!" "We're getting married!"

"That's nice, boys."

[gyuwoncheol]

Vantage Point | Chapter 10

Status: Ongoing

Pair: Mingyu x f.reader

Genre: College au. BFFs to FWB trope. Fluff, Humor, Angst, Smut [chapters with smut will be indicated and will contain the necessary warnings]

Summary: Pulling off the “No Strings Attached” arrangement with his best-friend-turned-best-friend-with-benefits was easy, but when a new condition is added onto the mix, Mingyu didn’t realise just how much he held onto you when you finally let go.

Chapter Warnings: mentions of oral sex

WC: 1.4k

Author’s Note: just your normal bestie conversations. Ten chapters in already answered still so so much to happen. This series is a long one 😉

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“Stop that,” your best friend scolds.

“What?”

“That. The pacing back and forth, checking out the window, pace back and forth, checking out the window again…”

“Oh. Sorry,” you lower your head down, and face the window again, trying to stay in one spot instead. Slowly, your hands find each other and in no time, your fingers are fidgeting and you start to gently bounce on the balls of your feet just looking at your street covered in all white. Another day stranded in the storm means another day cooped up in your apartment with your best friend.

Soon enough, heavy hands are felt on your shoulder as you’re being turned away from the view out the window and onto a face with the most accurate puppy dog eyes, “Cam, what’s wrong?” There’s a look of worry in Mingyu’s eyes as it scans over you, “we’re going to be fine, we’ve had worse snow storms.”

“No, it’s not that,” you sigh, “I just… can it stop already? We have to go soon.”

Mingyu tilts his head at your statement, a questioning look on his face, “but you were the one who said we should avoid the roads first?”

“Yeah but… I thought it would be over by now. We have to leave soon, Gyu!!!” You sulk.

“What’s with the sudden rush?”

“Because you need to be home,” you sigh in defeat, “you should’ve been home a while back if I wasn’t being a crap best friend.”

Mingyu mimics your sigh as he’s hit with the realization of your worries and he pulls you in against his chest, his arms wrapping around your shoulders, “Oh Cam…”

You groan before sticking your chin up and looking at him with a full pout, “I’m sorry…”

“You don’t need to apologize, this isn’t your fault.”

“It is! You could’ve gone home as soon as the term was over but you decided to stay and make amends with dramatic me and now you’re stuck in the city in the middle of a snow storm and Christmas is three days away,” you rambled so fast that if it had been someone else listening, they wouldn’t understand you. “I’m sorry Gyu, I know you really wanted to be home and spend time with family.”

Your best friend looks down at you, pats your head and simply smiles, “Like I said, stop apologizing. I’m not blaming you. Staying a few more days was my decision and I don’t regret it. I would’ve had a terrible Christmas if I knew I wasn’t on good terms with my best friend. And we still have a few more days okay, we’ll make it home, have faith. And you know what, even if we don’t make it, then we’ll make do! I know mom’s cheesecake recipe”

That was the thing about Mingyu, he’s always the most positive person in the room, and in your life, if you’re being honest. He could brighten up every situation while still being sensitive enough to everyone's feelings. He’s optimistic and always knows what to say to cheer you up.

“Hey, don’t give me that face,” he scolds as he looks at the pout still etched on your face, “stop feeling bad. Please? You know if I was really upset about all this, I’d be honest with you and tell you but I’m really not. It’s gonna be okay, yeah?”

Mingyu waited for your answer and at this point in time, if there was one thing left to hold onto, it would be your best friend’s hope. You nod slowly and offer him a smile before kissing his cheek, your usual way of saying thanks, which he knew.

“Now, cmon. Let’s make breakfast, don’t think I haven’t noticed the quiet grumble your stomach is making.”

“Okay, what about her?” You flash your phone in front of Mingyu as you both sit on your couch.

“Rina? Never.”

“Really??? Not even a kiss?!” You gasp in shock.

“Nope, we’re only on hi-hello terms.”

“Noooo way! You know she has a big fat crush on you?”

“I’ve been told.”

“And? You can’t even give her time of day? She seems nice.”

The conversation on ‘how far have you gone with x person’ was a usual one you had with Mingyu, and now that he’s known you were a virgin until two weeks ago, he’s indulged you with naming more people than he did. Right now, as you both stayed warm in your living room with a cup of hot chocolate, seemed to be the perfect time to play the game again.

“Ehh, not my type,” Mingyu shrugs, “besides, Soonyoung told me she doesn’t like dogs.”

“How does Soonie even know— you know what, nevermind, point taken. She has to love dogs. Okay next,” you scroll through your Instagram feed to find more girls from your university.

“Hey, no. My turn. Him,” Mingyu shows you a photo from his phone and immediately, you’re rolling your eyes in annoyance and shoving him playfully.

“Stop that!” The whiny tone in your voice only makes Mingyu laugh boisterously. He defends himself by saying he really just wanted to ask but you know your best friend and it’s almost too easy to tell when mischief lies behind his eyes.

“What?”

“Pretending like you don’t know I have history with him!”

A dramatic gasp emanates from Mingyu, complete with a hand on his mouth, “you have history with James?!”

“Gyu!” You laugh but the deathly squint you throw at him is unmissable.

“Oh come oooon, Cam! Don’t you think it’s high time I finally know what really went down with you two? What happened to ‘I’ll tell you everything soon’?”

If there were two things in this world Mingyu has learned to perfect, it was his pout and the sad doe eyes, although the latter is already a given thanks to the puppy DNA that flowed through his veins. And right now, he’s taking full advantage of the fact that you can’t resist the way his lower lip juts out.

“Okay, fiiiiiine,” you concede and Mingyu’s already crossing his legs and giving you his full attention, ready to hear the story. Boys, you thought, they love to gossip just as much as girls do.

“Well we went on several dates after I broke things off—“

“With Dae,” Mingyu interrupts, “yeah. yeah I know that part. So??? What else?”

“Well,” a pause and you study his face, making sure now was the right time to divulge this information to him, “when we decided it wasn’t the right time for either of us to take things to the next step, we also realised that the fun didn’t really have to stop.”

If CGI effects were something you could see in real life, there would be multiple question marks flying around Mingyu’s head right now. “And fun means what exactly?”

You take a deep breath, thinking about not saying anything anymore and then thinking, what the heck! Your best friend literally knows everything about you and has seen all of you, why is this suddenly the one last thing kept secret from him?? You don’t know either.

“Right before he’d go to basketball practice and I’d go home, I’d suck him off in his car and he’d return the favor.” Your best friend’s jaw simply falls slack. “It didn’t happen every practice, okay. But it happened a lot. Until of course I got really busy, he started to get back on the dating scene and eventually got with that Finance major. It just ran its course, I guess.”

“But you two never had sex?!” Mingyu questions in disbelief.

“Nope. I don’t know. Neither of us never really tried to reach that point either. No forcing anyone with anything, ya know? We’re still good friends. Fun while it lasted, helped me get over Dae and well… perfect the skill and practice the gag reflex.”

“You are crazy! I can’t believe you hid this from me!”

You scoff, “You were too preoccupied with Claudia! Whom by the way, still thinks I was fucking you while you two were together.”

“She was wrong then, but she’s right now,” the man across you wiggles his eyebrows playfully, “So am I the only one who knows this?”

“Mmm… second. Wonwoo always knew,” you shrug and Mingyu gasps in offense yet again, “BEFORE you start with your dramatics, I didn’t tell him okay. You know he’s in the same year as James and they had a couple classes together and James accidentally slipped with him. There just was no point denying anymore when Wonwoo asked me.”

Your best friend nods skeptically, “So I’m still the first one you told?”

“Yes, Gyu. You always are.”

A satisfied grin graces his lips and he throws you a wink, hands suddenly pulling your leg over his lap, “so about that skill… care to show me just how much you’ve perfected it?”

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Taglist: If you want to be tagged in succeeding parts, leave me an ask or reply to the series masterlist!

@wongyuseokie @strawberryya @idyllic-ghost @septemberskies @ladyblablabla @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @christinewithluv @everyone-em @phenomenalgirl9 @itza-meee @myghobi @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @writingbarnes @darijiwagra @gyuguys @multi-kpop-fanfics @whoa-jo @keeboismine @gaslysainz @the-boy-meets-evil @such-a-wh0re @wooahaeproductions @p-dwiddle

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Need Some Space?

Paranormal Preteens AU: Episode Twelve

A JSE Fanfic

Field trip time! :D The boys are heading to the planetarium with the rest of their school grades. It should be fun, except that Chase knows he has to tell Stacy about all their fun paranormal adventures and he really doesn’t know how to do that :( On top of that, there’s apparently some more weird stuff happening here, too. Wonder what that’s all about? ^-^

++++++++++++++++++++

Chase had never been to the planetarium before. It wasn’t technically in town, but actually a thirty-minute drive away, and that had always seemed too far to get interested in except for special occasions. But he was definitely interested in getting a day off from classes, so he was kind of excited for the field trip.

Schneep was definitely excited. He kept staring out the window of the bus, waiting for the planetarium to appear with a big grin on his face. When the large concrete-and-glass building came into view he gasped and grabbed Chase’s arm excitedly. “It’s so much bigger than I thought it would be!”

“Wow. Yeah.” Chase leaned against the window and watched as the school bus approached the building. There were a few steps leading up to the glass doors that were the front entrance. Above the doors were bronze letters spelling out “Hollewych Planetarium,” with a picture of the Earth and moon in the middle.

Two school years were going on this trip to the planetarium, so the outside was just packed with kids. Teachers and parents had come along to supervise, but Chase wasn’t sure there were enough adults for all the students. As soon as he and Schneep got off the bus, one of the teachers—Mrs. Karter, the Chemistry teacher—began trying to coral the students into a buddy system. Chase immediately grabbed Schneep’s hand. There. Already worked out.

And yet—“Chase, we’re gonna be buddies.”

Chase jumped, then sighed, and turned to the side to see Stacy staring at him intently. “Hi, Stacy,” he said. “Sorry, you’re too late. Schneep and I are buddies.”

Stacy raised an eyebrow. “Really? Don’t you have that friend, uh... what’s his name? Chad?”

“Well, yeah, but...” Chase trailed off. For some reason, Chad hadn’t talked to him at all once the school year started. Even though Chase tried to find him in the hallways or at lunch. He didn’t respond to him calling out to him when they walked past each other. Chase... wasn’t sure if this bothered him. It probably should have. 

“Well that doesn’t matter anyway because I want to be your buddy,” Stacy said. “I want to talk to you.”

He was expecting this. Exactly one week ago, Stacy had said that if Chase didn’t tell her what was going on with all the weird stuff in town, she was going to tell everyone about the monster dog and how Chase and his friends did something with it. People might not believe her, but the rumor alone was guaranteed to do damage. Chase glanced at Schneep, who jerked his head towards Stacy, as if saying ‘go ahead.’ “You don’t really know anyone here,” Chase said. “Not yet. It’ll be easier if we stick together.”

“How am I supposed to get to know anyone if we are together all the time?” Schneep asked.

“Uh—good point, but I don’t think this is the place. It’s a big building, and it’s kinda far from home.”

“I can’t believe you’re going this far to avoid me, Chase Brody,” Stacy said. “You leave me no choice.”

“Huh?”

Stacy turned around and waved her hand in the air. “Mrs. Karter! Can we make a group of three?!”

“Hmm?” Mrs. Karter looked away from the pair of students she was currently sorting out. “Well, we do have an odd number of students... alright, since you were the first to ask.”

“Thank you!” Stacy turned back around and gave Chase a smug grin. He just stared at her, dumbfounded, which Schneep chuckled. “She likes me, you know.”

“...alright...” Chase said slowly. “Uh... well... we’re about to go inside anyway, so—we can talk once we’re in there.”

“Fine.” Stacy nodded.

Walking through the front entrance took the students to a wide entrance hall, with star-patterned carpet and a giant globe in the center. The kids all immediately clustered around that, leaning over the surrounding railing to try and touch it, while the adults started coordinating with the planetarium tour guides. Chase, meanwhile, lingered over by the front counter where people would normally pay the entrance fee. He stared at the list of activities and prices hanging on the wall and tried to ignore the way Stacy was staring at him.

“Stacy, do you like space?” Schneep asked.

“Huh? I mean, I guess it’s kinda cool,” Stacy said, surprised that he asked her.

“It is! It is so—so interesting!” Schneep nodded enthusiastically. “Did you know that Venus rotates backwards? The opposite direction of Earth? And Uranus rotates on its side, like a bowling ball! And if you had a giant container of water, big enough to put Saturn in, the planet would float!”

“Wait, really?” Stacy asked. “How can a giant planet be lighter than water?”

“It is not lighter, it is less dense. Saturn is made of a bunch of gasses, just like Jupiter—and technically Uranus and Neptune, too, but those two are frozen because they are so far from the sun—”

Chase zoned out. Not because he was bored or annoyed, but because he already listened to Schneep telling him all these facts on the bus ride over. He only snapped back to attention when he heard a voice say, “Hey, aren’t you Jackie’s little friend?”

“Huh?” He shook his head a little. The voice was coming from a teenage girl standing behind the counter, wearing the white-button-down-and-blue-vest uniform of the planetarium staff. Her blonde hair was pulled back in two pigtails. He recognized her. “Oh yeah! You were on the camping trip with us! Uh...” He struggled with the name for a while, until he realized she was wearing a name tag. “Mincy!”

“That’s me.” Mincy grinned. “I saw you look at the tag. Don’t worry about it, I’m bad with names, too.”

“Well, I’m Chase,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Working.”

“But aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

“Well, with careful schedule planning, you can eventually get yourself an entire day free!” Mincy winked. “But between you and me, I’d rather not be here now, either. I don’t usually work Mondays, but I took this shift as a favor for a friend. If I’d known it would be this busy, I wouldn’t have done it, though.”

“Ah.” Chase nodded understandingly, only half-understanding. You could work on days that you didn’t have work? Weird. “Well, uh... is it fun?”

“Working here? It’s alright. The planetarium is pretty interesting.” Mincy leaned a bit closer. “But between you and me, there are some weird things going on.”

Chase straightened. “Weird how? Is it like... especially weird?”

Mincy laughed. “Jackie asked me the same thing when I said that! No wonder he gets along with you guys. Uh, it’s a lot of little stuff, you know. There are some staff-only doors that I’m not allowed to go in, which is like... I guess not as big a thing, because maybe that’s for the bosses or something. But also, did you know we have a basement? Because I didn’t, until I overheard people talking about it in this, like, hushed conversation. They said it’s sealed up when I asked about it, but it’s still weird, right? And a lot of the people who’ve worked here a while act a little strange. They have this like... this stare that gives me the chills. And they don’t talk much. There’s this one guy, Dave, who I don’t think I’ve ever heard say a word.”

“That is pretty weird,” Chase said, nodding. He tried to look mildly interested while secretly his mind was scrambling. Was this more of the supernatural? Something else caused by this—as Anti had said—greenlight?

“It is, huh?” Mincy nodded. “Well. Don’t let me keep you. Looks like your teachers are getting ready to get you all into groups.”

Chase looked over at the group of teachers and planetarium staff. He wasn’t sure how Mincy could tell they were getting ready, but sure enough, Mrs. Karter soon said, “Alright! If you came here on the bus with me or the one with Mr. Fitzgerald, I need you over here with us!”

“Chase.” Schneep reached over and tugged on his sleeve. “That is us.”

“Yeah, I know.” Chase glanced at Stacy. He knew she’d come on the bus with them; he’d seen her sitting at the front when he and Schneep got on. So it seemed she really was coming with him. “Let’s go.”

The three of them joined the rest of the group around Mrs. Karter and Mr. Fitzgerald, all gathered around an archway leading into what looked like a series of rooms. There was also a planetarium staff member there—a tour guide of some kind. The moment they meshed into the crowd of students, Chase felt something grab his shoulder. He yelped and spun around. “Who—?! You!”

JJ grinned and gave a little wave. Marvin, standing slightly behind him, leaned around and also waved. “Hey! Isn’t this cool? The four of us are all in the same group! I knew the good luck spell I cast last night would do great things!”

“Haha... yeah...” Chase glanced around. The other students nearby were staring at them. His skin prickled with embarrassment. “Marvin, you shouldn’t shout in a planetarium.”

“I shouldn’t?” Marvin looked confused. “But it’s not like a library, right? And there are a lot of people shouting besides me.”

“Well, they shouldn’t be doing that either.” Really, Chase didn’t want to draw that much attention to themselves. “Anyway, I guess it’s a good thing you two are here. I got to tell you about something that just happened.”

The four boys clustered together as the group started to move into the series of rooms, and Chase quickly recounted his conversation with Mincy. Schneep asked him to repeat once, as he’d gotten distracted by a diagram of how a telescope worked, but other than that, there were no problems. Well... there was Stacy. She was standing close enough to overhear, and in fact seemed quite keen on overhearing as she tried to lean her way into the boys’ cluster.

Do you think there’s more of that greenlight stuff here? JJ asked, using the individual signs for “green” and “light” to convey the name.

“I don’t know,” Chase said. “Maybe. I think we should pay attention.”

Stacy poked her head into a gap in between Marvin and Schneep’s shoulders. “Pay attention to what? Are you looking for some more monster dogs?”

“No, we got rid of that one, and we’re pretty sure it was the only one,” Marvin said. “We’re not really sure what we’re looking for this time, but anything strange, like something glowing green—”

“Marvin!” Chase hissed.

“What?” Marvin blinked in confusion. “Doesn’t she know?”

“I... haven’t shared... the details yet,” Chase said haltingly. He glanced at Stacy, who looked very interested in this conversation.

JJ frowned. You said you would. And none of us had a problem with that.

“He is just worried about letting in new people,” Schneep said.

“Are there no girls allowed in your club?” Stacy asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“No, it’s not that you’re a girl,” Chase said. “And it’s not a club.”

Marvin gasped. “Can it be a club? Can we have a name?!”

“We can talk about that later,” Chase said. He was noticing people staring again. “Let’s shut up for a minute. We need a... quiet place. Where we can be alone.”

The others agreed. Even Stacy, though she didn’t look happy about it. They all started paying actual attention to the planetarium now. This area they were in was dedicated to physical objects, like telescopes and samples of moon rock. Diagrams on the wall explained things like the Mars rover and the rocket people used to go to the moon. It didn’t interest Chase that much, but Schneep found it all fascinating. Marvin and JJ were sort of forced to take interest in the exhibits, as their teacher had given their class a worksheet to fill out while on the field trip—something Marvin complained about.

Stacy was sort of into the exhibits, but most of her time was spent constantly glancing at Chase and the others, as if afraid they would try to ditch her.

The last thing in this series of rooms was a giant pendulum, suspended from the very top floor of the three-story planetarium and hanging down through a series of holes. It was constantly moving, and a plaque nearby said that this was because of the Earth’s rotation. There were a series of domino-like things in a circle around the pendulum, some of them knocked down. The five of them watched it for about ten minutes, waiting for the pendulum to knock down another one. When it did, they all cheered, as did all the other students watching.

Then it was time to move on to a different section of the planetarium. The group went to a pair of rooms entirely dedicated to the sun, moon, and Earth, and the relationship between them. Here, Marvin got fully immersed in an interactive display that let you simulate a solar and lunar eclipse, to the point where Schneep had to fully drag him away so he could have a turn. Chase thought this area was a bit more interesting. He didn’t know that the seasons were caused by the tilt of the Earth. Or did he learn that last year? Science wasn’t his strong suit, and last school year had been his worst school performance.

All this time, he tried to pay attention to his surroundings, looking for anything strange. But he didn’t see anything.

They went up to the second floor and came to a long hallway with giant models of the sun and planets in the solar system. And these models were giant. The smallest planet, Mercury, was big enough that Chase’s fingers would barely touch if he wrapped his arms around it (not that he could, since there was a railing.) And Jupiter was taller than the teachers! The sun wasn’t even a full model, just a partial circle embedded in the wall.

Schneep kept talking about how this hallway wasn’t anywhere close “to scale” but Chase was impressed anyway. Stacy was, too, as this was the first room where she wasn’t constantly keeping an eye on the others. She spent most of her time playing with a scale that would tell you how much you would weigh on each planet—and complaining that Pluto wasn’t part of the model. “It’s still a planet!” she said, and JJ nodded in firm agreement. The two of them probably would have talked about that if Stacy could understand sign language.

“Alright, everyone!” Mr. Fitzgerald announced. “This way, please! We have a viewing scheduled in the Astrodome!”

“The Astrodome,” Chase repeated. “That sounds cool.”

It’s a bit like a theater, JJ said. Except the movie screen is a dome above you and around you.

“Cool,” Chase said again, grinning. “This place is cool.”

“We should come back here some time with Aunt Jess, Chase,” Schneep said. “When we left today she said she wanted to see this some time. I think she mentioned something about it being new and her not having time.”

“Yeah.” Chase’s smile slowly faded. He remembered when the planetarium had opened. It was last year. Around November, he thought. That was when Mom and Dad... That was when he first noticed that they were... different. He’d seen some things before that, of course, overheard conversations he probably shouldn’t have, but... The atmosphere in those conversations had been isolated before. November was when it first started to spread to every interaction they had. Neither of them had been in the mood for a family trip to the planetarium.

“Chase, come on!” Schneep tugged on his arm. “We are behind!” Then he turned and hurried ahead.

“Ah, sorry!” Chase hadn’t even realized he’d frozen in place. He started to hurry after Schneep... but then he noticed something. Mrs. Karter wasn’t heading towards the hall leading to the Astrodome. She was walking the opposite direction. He stopped, and watched as she opened a gate in the railing separating the model planets from the rest of the solar system. She had a key to that? Since when? Did all the teachers have a key?

He glanced back at the retreating group, then followed her. He just wanted to make sure. If something strange was happening, he’d go back to get the others.

Mrs. Karter closed the gate behind her, but left it unlocked. Chase slowly eased it open and stepped through. He watched her disappear around the model of Neptune.

“What are you doing, Chase Brody?” Chase turned around to see Stacy standing there, hands on her hips. “We’re going to lose the group!”

“Mrs. Karter just... went this way...” Chase said slowly.

“She did?” Stacy said doubtfully. “I didn’t see her.”

“Hey, what’re you guys doing?” Marvin approached the two of them. “Schneep and JJ are getting away from us.”

“Hang on.” Chase walked forward and peered around the giant Neptune model. And he saw... a door. One marked “Staff Only,” hidden behind Saturn. But he didn’t see Mrs. Karter. “I think she went through a staff door.”

“Wait really?” Marvin hurried through the still-open gate, and Stacy gasped in surprise at his audacity. “Like the staff door you were talking about earlier? One of the maybe-weird ones?”

“Yeah.”

“Well we have to check it out, then,” Marvin said.

“It could just be a staff door, you know,” Stacy pointed out.

“We won’t know that unless we peek through,” Marvin rebutted. “If it’s just, like, a closet or something, we’ll catch up with the others.” He walked past Chase, leaving him to follow.

“You can’t just—!” Stacy glanced around, then ran after the two of them, catching up as they reached the closed staff door. “If there’s someone in there they’re gonna be so mad, you know.”

“Then we just tell them that we saw Mrs. Karter go this way.” Chase shrugged. “It’s the truth. And she’s our teacher. So of course we would try to follow her on a field trip.”

“Do you think she locked the door?” Marvin asked, reaching out. He grabbed the handle. It twisted easily. “Oh, I guess not.” He pushed the door open—

And suddenly, Chase felt himself fall forward. He yelped and tried to regain his balance but something was pulling him. Stacy, standing behind him, also fell forward, knocking him over, and he then knocked over Marvin, and the three of them were falling through darkness.

There wasn’t enough time to scream before they landed hard on the ground, knocking the breath out of them. Chase groaned. That was worse than wiping out on his skateboard. His entire left side hurt, and his arm felt funny. He hoped it wasn’t broken.

“What... just happened?” Stacy’s voice said in the darkness.

“A-are you guys alright?” Marvin’s voice asked.

“Everything hurts,” Chase said quietly.

“Yeah,” Stacy agreed. “I don’t... want to move.”

Chase heard movement—the sound of cloth rustling—and then a hiss of breath. “Yeah. Moving not good yet,” Marvin said. “Let’s just... stay here until we feel better. And try to figure out where we are.”

“It’s pitch black,” Stacy said.

“Wow, no, really?” Chase replied sarcastically.

“Where are you? I’m gonna punch you.” More movement as Stacy tried to find him. Luckily, she seemed to be out of arm’s reach, and she gave up. “Fine, whatever.” She paused. “Okay. So... you guys opened a door. And then it like—like sucked us in?”

“Oh, is that what happened?” Marvin said. “Well. Goes to show the staff doors really are part of the weird shit. D’you think Mrs. Karter got sucked in like this?”

“Maybe?” Chase guessed.

“I don’t think she’s nearby, though,” Stacy said. “Or she would’ve heard us and come over to ask us what we’re doing here.” More cloth rustling, then some footsteps. Stacy was standing up. “Hello?” she called.

There was no reply.

Chase took a deep breath and slowly stood as well. His left arm really felt weird, but it didn’t hurt and he could move it, so it probably wasn’t broken. “Alright. Does anyone have a flashlight or something?”

“Who just carries a flashlight around?” Stacy muttered.

“Don’t those fancy cell phones with the touch screens light up?” Marvin asked. “Do either of you have one? I don’t.”

“I thought you did?” Chase said, confused.

“No, it’s technically JJ’s cell phone, and he was carrying it in his bag today. It’s not a fancy touch screen model, either, so the light from the screen wouldn’t be enough anyway. What about your phone?”

“I didn’t bring it. I’d normally leave it in my locker at school but we weren’t going to be in the school building today so I left it at home.” Chase paused. “Um... Stacy, do you—”

“My parents won’t let me get a cell phone until I’m fifteen,” Stacy said. “Ugh. It would’ve been so helpful to be able to call someone right now! Whatever. We’ll just feel our way along.” Footsteps. “Okay, here’s a wall. Feels normal. So there’s gotta be a door or a light switch somewhere around here.”

Chase walked towards her voice until he also found the wall. “I’ll walk the other direction,” he said. “We’ll find one eventually.”

Marvin finally stood up. “I’m going over here,” he announced, voice and footsteps retreating into the other direction. “Oh. There’s another wall here. This is a pretty small room. Do you think this is a closet? It would be a big closet, but not too big, you know? But there’s nothing in here, I think, and closets are for storing things.”

The three kids walked around the edge of the dark room, looking for an entrance or anything else helpful. But too soon, they all bumped into each other. “Omg, you guys totally threw me off!” Stacy complained. “I don’t know where I am now! Where’s the door?”

“Stacy...we’ve just met in the middle, and there hasn’t been a door at all,” Chase whispered.

“What? That’s impossible!” Stacy protested. “How’d we get in?!”

“I think we fell?” Marvin suggested.

“That’s right.”

That was not any of their voices.

Stacy screamed, which made Chase scream and spin around. “Who’s—” he started to say. Then the voice fully registered in his brain. He knew who that belonged to. “No. No, what are you doing here?”

“Am I here?” Anti’s voice sounded like it was coming from right in front of where they were standing with their backs pressed against the wall. “Or are you just hearing things?”

“Don’t bullshit us!” Marvin shouted. “Why are you here?”

Anti laughed. “I’m just watching. But it looks like you’re stuck, so I’ll give you a little hint.”

Chase heard a sound like fingers snapping, and something started glowing green right in front of them, the light reflecting off the features of a familiar face. Anti grinned. It looked even more ghoulish than usual. The light was coming from a glowing ball he held with his pointer finger and thumb. He flicked his fingers, and the ball bounced over to the corner of the room. “The walls aren’t put together well. Try pushing in the right place. Good luck.” His smile widened, and then the green ball flickered and disappeared. Anti’s presence disappeared as well.

Stacy gulped. “What... w-who...?”

“That’s... Anti,” Chase said slowly. “He’s... we’re not sure what. But he’s been messing with us.”

“I still think he’s a ghost,” Marvin added. “Anyway. Do we do that? What he said about pushing the walls in the right place?”

Chase paused, trying to think of something else, but nothing came to him. “I don’t have any other ideas. And whatever happens can’t be worse than being stuck in a box.”

He walked over to the corner where the green ball of light had disappeared. Then he braced his hands on either wall and pushed. Sure enough, he felt something give slightly. He pushed harder, grunting with exertion. Marvin and Stacy hurried over to help, joining him in pushing. Slowly, the walls tilted outward... and then fell to the ground with a loud CLAP! noise.

The three of them stared out into a wide, nearly-empty room. Its ceiling was twice as tall as normal and lined with rafters. Square pillars were dotted around, connecting the high-above ceiling to the cheaply-carpeted floor. It looked like a basement. A really big basement, since they couldn’t see the walls.

 There were no lightbulbs or lamps, but the area was well-lit anyway. Because dotted throughout the area were floating spheres of glowing yellow light. The spheres ranged in size from ping-pong-ball to two-fists-together. And they weren’t the only things floating. Random items hovered in midair: rocks, mostly, but also paper cups, pens and pencils, scissors, and more.

“Whoa,” Marvin breathed. “It’s like—it’s like space.”

Stacy stepped forward and poked a stapler hovering around head-height. It floated away from the touch. “What the heck?” she whispered, and looked at Chase. “Is this—is this something you guys deal with a lot?”

“Uhhh we’ve never seen this before,” Chase said. He started walking, and found he felt... lighter. Each step sent him a bit farther into the air, and he came down a bit gentler than normal. After taking a moment to get used to this, he walked over to the nearest ball of light and reached out. He couldn’t actually touch it, but when he waved his hand through it, he felt warmth. “But... we’ve seen a lot of weird stuff.”

“And only you and your friends know about it?” Stacy asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, we did see Mrs. Karter walk through the staff door that sucked us down here,” Marvin said. “So, unless the suckage just happened when we opened the door, she has to know about it too, right?”

Chase frowned. “I guess. And Mincy said that some of the staff at the planetarium were acting weird. Maybe... they also knew about this weird... basement? She did mention she overheard a conversation about a basement.”

Marvin’s brows scrunched together in confusion. “Do you think the staff knew about this and are keeping it a secret?”

“Maybe. But why?”

“Maybe for the same reason you guys didn’t tell anyone,” Stacy muttered.

Chase looked over at her. The two of them stared at each other for a while. Then Chase sighed. He still wasn’t happy about it, but after this, it wouldn’t be fair to keep it from Stacy any longer. Maybe she wasn’t as bad as he thought. “Look, you can’t tell anyone what I’m gonna tell you, okay? I mean, people might not believe you, but just in case, we don’t want anyone to try and stop this.”

Stacy nodded slowly.

“I mean it. Especially don’t tell Heather Westing.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Stacy said.

“Wait, I thought you were friends with her?” Marvin interrupted, confused.

“We are friends!” Stacy protested. “It’s just—she’s been acting a bit weird lately.” Stacy folded her arms. “I think it’s because my mom doesn’t want me to go to this movie Heather wants to go to. It’s based on a book and my mom read the book description and she said it was too dark for me, but it’s really not, I mean, it’s a romance, and even if it wasn’t I want to read it anyway because I bet it will be cool. Anyway Heather realized I didn’t read the book and my mom won’t let me go see the movie and she got a bit weird. But the movie comes out in November so I hope I can get the book from the school library and read it by then and I’ll tell Mom that it was fine and that I should be allowed to go to the movie.”

“Uh... okay.” Chase didn’t really get all that, but he got that Heather and Stacy weren’t on the best of terms right now. “Anyway. This place is kind of creeping me out. So let’s try to find a way out of here and I’ll explain everything while we look around.”

Stacy nodded. “Alright.”

++++++++++++++++++++

Luckily, the mysterious space-themed basement wasn’t that big, so Chase didn’t have to go into too much detail. He gave the basic explanation of each of the group’s encounters with the strange things going on: the library ghost, the pool monster, the weird mushrooms, the monster dog, and Anti. Marvin kept trying to give more details but Chase quickly redirected the conversation back to the point. By the time they reached the basement wall, Chase had told Stacy everything.

She was quiet for a while, processing all this information. “I wouldn’t believe you if I didn’t see that crazy dog. And if we weren’t surrounded by all this stuff.” She waved her hand through the air, breaking up a cluster of floating paper clips. “But alright. I won’t tell anyone. Because if I wouldn’t believe you, I doubt anyone else will.” She held eye contact with Chase. “But I want to know.”

“You want... to know?” Chase repeated.

“Yeah, I want to know about all the stuff you guys do. And what you figure out about this greenlight stuff. I dunno if I’ll be able to come with you guys to check any of it out. My mom and dad wouldn’t let me walk around town on my own like your mom does. And a lot of the time I have to watch Roxy, so—”

“Who?”

“My little sister. She’s eight and sometimes my parents are at work for longer than they wanna be so I sometimes have, like, an hour or two where I watch her. It’s not too bad. But the point is, even if I can’t go there, I want to know.”

“Uh... yeah. Sure.” Chase nodded. “We can keep you in the loop.”

Stacy smiled. “Thanks.” She turned her attention to the basement wall. “Now. Which staircase do we take?”

Spaced out evenly among the basement wall were staircases leading upwards. They were about six feet apart and all looked about the same. Normal, brightly-lit metal stairwells that, after about ten steps or so, led into sudden darkness. 

“You’d think they’d all go to the same place,” Marvin said, looking at the rows of stairs. “Because they all look like they’re going the same direction. But I don’t think we can trust that. This place is already weird. There’s no real way to figure out which one is which, so maybe we just pick one? Hang on, I’m gonna try to divine which way to go. It’ll be hard cause I don’t have any of the right stuff, but it’s worth a shot.” He traced a pattern in the carpet with the toe of his shoe: a star in a circle. Then he knelt by the pattern and closed his eyes.

Stacy stared at him. Then she looked at Chase.

“He just does stuff like this,” Chase mumbled, not looking directly at her or Marvin. “It’s fine.”

“So, uh, is it real?” Stacy jerked her head at Marvin and the pattern in the carpet.

“I dunno. He used his crystals and rocks to save us a couple times, but... I don’t know.”

Stacy nodded. “And... the cape?” she whispered.

“That’s just him.”

Marvin opened his eyes. “Okay. I think we go this way.” He stood up and walked over to a random stairwell. Stacy and Chase followed him and the three started walking up. The stairs were always lit ten steps ahead of them, but no farther.

As they did, Stacy continued to ask Chase questions. “So, not even your parents know about this? Your mom just kinda lets you do whatever?”

“Well, I have a bedtime,” Chase said. “And it’s gonna be harder to ‘do whatever’ with school and stuff. As long as I give a good explanation, she’s happy. She likes that I’ve been hanging out with people again. Besides, she wouldn’t believe me. Like you said earlier. No grown-ups would. We’d just be kids playing games to them.”

“But you haven’t told anyone our age before me, either,” Stacy stated.

“No. I don’t want to be... You know people would...” Chase tried to put his thoughtsinto words that wouldn’t spill all his feelings and fears to a girl he’d barely talked to. “If anyone at school knew that I was doing this, it wouldn’t matter if it was real or not, because it’s all really... different. Like, magic rocks? Used to channel green energy? That’s weird. And nobody would ever forget that. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life as the weirdo ghost guy from a group of weirdo magic people.”

Marvin stopped walking.

“Marvin?” Chase asked. “Why’d you stop?”

“...it is all weird, huh?” Marvin said quietly.

“Y-yeah.” Chase nodded.

“Yeah.”

Chase had never heard Marvin so quiet before. Was he upset? No, he couldn’t be. Marvin would probably be swearing at Chase if he was angry, as loud as ever. “Did you hear something?” Chase asked.

“I dunno,” Marvin said. “Let’s stop talking for a moment.”

“Right.” Chase also went quiet, paying attention to the world around him. And because he was now paying attention, he noticed that Stacy was staring at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “What?” he whispered to her.

“Are you serious?” she whispered back. “Chase Brody, you just—”

“Wait, there’s something,” Marvin interrupted.

Everyone fell silent again, and that’s when they heard it. Footsteps coming down the staircase towards them. The three of them exchanged silent looks of panic, and then Stacy turned and started walking back down the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible. The boys followed, making slightly more noise than she did.

Voices also drifted down the staircase, coming closer. Two people talking. “—those kinds would be fine, really,” a man’s voice was saying.

“It’s not easy to find this stuff out,” said a... familiar voice. The three kids exchanged surprised looks. That voice belonged to Mrs. Karter. “Not all of them are trusting. I’ve been trying to ask Gina, but she keeps her lips shut tight.”

“Have you thought about recruiting her? It would be helpful if she was on our side.”

“I’m not sure she would be ideal. She might not understand the bigger picture. And it would be so much trouble if we showed her, and then she rejected us, and then we had to find a way to get rid of her—she’s pretty well-connected, people would notice.”

“It may be worth a shot anyway, given her position. We can move slowly. You’ve already mentioned talking to her, keep being friendly. I think if Olivia and Wendy can also befriend her, we might have a shot at bringing Gina in.”

The three kids reached the end of the staircase, but where to go from there? The basement was wide-open, nowhere to hide. Chase glanced at Marvin and Stacy, then gestured forward urgently. They’d just have to run! Stacy nodded, but Marvin looked confused.

“Just double-checking,” the man’s voice said. “You’re sure we got an intruder alert?”

“I am,” said Mrs. Karter. “They must’ve come in right after me. Hopefully they’re kids from the field trip. That would make this easier.”

Chase grabbed Marvin by the wrist and broke into a run. Stacy followed—she was surprisingly fast! The wall of staircases already started to fade into the distance when there came a shout of “Hey!” The three of them sped up.

The basement seemed even larger than it had before. They could hear the footsteps of people running after them. Marvin glanced over his shoulder but Chase and Stacy were too focused on getting out of there. Floating objects bounced off them and flew in different directions. The footsteps were still behind them, not getting closer, not getting farther.

CRAK!

Stacy yelped and went down. The boys skidded to a halt. She’d stepped in the wrong place, and her foot had gone into a crack in the floor that they hadn’t seen before. Had they come this way earlier? Or had they just not noticed it? The crack was pretty big, Chase wasn’t sure how they could have missed it.

Why did it look so familiar?

Stacy tried to stand up but couldn’t. She looked at the two of them, silently asking for help. Chase grabbed her hand and started to pull, and Marvin did the same with her other hand. She was really stuck in there. It felt like something else was pulling against them. Chase spared a moment to get a closer look at the crack. It was barely big enough for Stacy’s foot to have fit through, and it led into pure blackness. For some reason, that gave him a chill.

The footsteps were getting closer. Chase put all his effort into pulling, and finally, Stacy popped free. She staggered, falling into the two boys, then quickly recovered and dashed away, leaving them to catch up.

The opposite wall of the basement finally came into view. It looked just like the other one, lined with staircases. The kids didn’t discuss which one to take, they just ran up the first one they came to, sprinting up stairs in the darkness. The footsteps behind them receded slightly, but they didn’t stop. Chase started to get winded, but they didn’t stop.

Until finally, the staircase ended in a closed door. Chase threw himself at the door—and stopped short when it didn’t open all the way. Stacy and Marvin slammed into the door next to him, pushing it open further. There was just enough room for them to wriggle out of the gap, and they did so. As soon as they were out Chase slammed the door behind them and pushed the heavy object partially blocking the door back against it.

The three of them stopped to breathe, listening for footsteps or voices on the other side of the door. Nothing. They collectively slumped in relief, and started to look around. “Where are we?” Marvin whispered.

It was a small room, mostly taken up by metal cabinets—which was what had been blocking the door earlier—and weird computer-y looking equipment. A swivel chair sat in front of a wide window, and through the glass they could see some sort of projection of the night sky.

Then another door opened up to the side. “What the fuck? When did you kids get in here?”

The three of them stiffened and stared at the guy who opened the door. He wasn’t too much older than a teenager, and he wore the planetarium uniform. He also had a pair of headphones with an attached microphone on his head. “Uhhhh...” Chase said.

The young man sighed. “Just get back to your seats.” He pointed behind him.

Chase, Stacy, and Marvin glanced at each other, then silently walked out of the room, passing by the man.

They were in a place that looked like a movie theater. But instead of there being a screen on one wall, the screen was a giant dome overhead. This was where the projection of the night sky was. They were standing at the back of this circular room. To their right was the room they’d just come out of—a small booth covered in fuzzy black material. To their right was an identical booth. And in front of them were the rows of seats, almost completely full of kids. A woman’s voice came from an intercom, narrating something about constellations.

This was the Astrodome. They’d ended up here after all.

“I guess... we just sit down?” Stacy whispered.

“I guess,” Chase whispered back.

They found the nearest group of empty seats and sat down, trying to pay attention to the presentation and the fake night sky overhead.

After the presentation, the three of them lingered in the same seats as all the other students filed out. Chase was pretty sure Stacy and Marvin were doing the same thing he was: looking for Mrs. Karter. But she wasn’t in the room.

“There you are!”

Chase jumped and looked around. Schneep was running up the aisle between the seats towards them, followed by JJ. “Oh. Hi.”

“Where were you?!” Schneep demanded. “I thought—I-I thought—what happened?! Did something happen? A-are you alright?” JJ put a hand on his shoulder, and that seemed to calm Schneep’s nerves a bit.

“We’re alright, but...” Chase looked at Stacy, who held his gaze. Then at Marvin, who wasn’t looking at any of them, not even JJ. Just staring up at the blank dome, staying quiet. Chase wondered if he was okay, or if something about that detour had bothered him. He could ask him about that later. Right now? “We have stuff to talk about.”

[lcstxsculx]

Kate’s smirk mirrored his, her arms crossing as she leaned casually against the desk. ❝I’m glad we’re on the same page, Ethan. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. But before I hand over any names, let me make one thing clear. This isn’t just a hit list—it’s a game, a challenge. If you’re looking for simple, I suggest you stick to your ER roster.❞ She took a step forward, her heels clicking softly against the floor, her voice dropping to a near whisper. ❝As for methods, following them is fine—if you want to keep playing it safe. But if you want something more... efficient, we’ll provide intel. Habits, routines, places they think are safe. The kind of information that makes the hunt seamless. I’m not asking you to change who you are, but I think you’ll find a little guidance can go a long way.❞ Kate tilted her head, studying him with an amused glint in her eyes. ❝And payment? Oh, it won’t just be about what you can give. It’s about what you’re willing to become. You’ll get your rewards, don’t worry. But this isn’t just a transaction, Ethan. It’s an investment. You’ll grow, and when you look back, you won’t recognize the man you were when we started.❞

She turned slightly, gazing out the same window he stood by, the city sprawling below them. ❝London’s rain grows on you, if you stick around long enough. But the sun? It’s a rare thing here. Like trust. Like loyalty.❞ Her gaze shifted back to him, her smile sharp and calculated. ❝I’ll give you your first name soon enough. But you’re right—it’s up to you to decide if the job’s worth it. Just remember, Ethan, this isn’t about playing the rabid dog or the loving pet. This is about being the one who holds the leash, while everyone else scrambles to figure out who’s pulling the strings.❞ Kate stepped back, her tone lightening, though her eyes still glinted with something darker. ❝So, doctor, shall we test those skills of yours? Let’s see if you’re as good as you think you are.❞

"I do love a challenge so what do you want me to do first? Go on a small hunt for you to prove myself or have I already done that with the killings that I've already achieved?" Ethan looks at her a glint in his eye as he thinks about the hunt and who she's going to send him after, knowing that these jobs are going to be a challenge is almost enough to make him trust her already, almost but he knows that if he fucks up or pisses her off he'll more than likely end up in a jail somewhere with the key thrown away. He looks back out the window and takes a deep breath "I think I understand that, they are the puppet and I'm the master but I'm a puppet and you're the master too so I guess it all evens out doesn't it Kate." Ethan tilts his head to the side as he looks back out at the rain "I used t live in a place where it was mostly sunshine all the time and one gets bored with only one kind of weather. Fair weather friends and all that crap but you are right sun is as rare as loyalty and trust around here but that is something that isn't lightly given or it can be thrown back in your face."

He chuckles "Simple Kate is something that is best left behind with me. I love a good challenge and I will complain if this isn't challenging enough for me. If I should get bored while doing it then god help you because I will start in on those loyal to you as something to do other than twiddling my thumbs or I'll just go back to my hospital roster as you call it and try to find even bigger challenges until I fuck up and get caught, then I won't be of any use to anyone." Ethan looks over his shoulder at her "Oh, I'm going to like that, yes indeed. All the stalking is a bit tiring if you want to know the truth so having someone else do it for me would be wonderful of course they will have to be trusted and not give me shit for info but other than that I'll be happy to work with anyone you happen to want to stick me with. Well, except another killer because in that sense I work better alone." He chuckles and gets a thoughtful look on his face "I already look back at myself and not recognize the man that I've become so it won't be all that hard to do it again."

@shadowsandsympathy

[cuprohastes]

Lunch In Space

Part 1

Wherein we are introduced to two of our main characters, the perils of interspecies cafeterias and the alternate uses of dog jumpers, and the Narrator is too self-obsessed to introduce themselves properly

4am, in the vast darkness of space, the lightless void that's darker than the stygian depths.

Apart from the stars. They're actually pretty bright. Famously so come to think of it. Also all the lights on the station, so you can look at it and admire it and spot any fresh new exciting holes that have appeared.

And if you're on shift, like me, use those handly lights to find the cafeteria and very carefully pick through the offerings because believe me, while Yarrick won't kill you, your body will basically say 'What the heck?' and treat it like a nice big plate of Silicone jelly and you will be experiencing a whole new and exciting set of sensations, and hey, sometimes you just have to clutch the toilet seat and scream a bit: We've all been there.

So I get my nice human safe food, and an extra roll of purple stuff that's not bread but it might as well be, and relocate my heiny to the big table by the window, the one that's always a bit chilly which is why me and Atrix and Atrix are usually the only ones who sit there.

I mean Atrix does because she's comfortable with a little extra cooling, and Atrix is there because he's not driving, he's just along for the ride.

"Yo." I say to my good buddy, the giant purple kangaroo dinosaur. She gives me a Yo back and dual finger guns.

Atrix the pocket lizard sticks his snout out and makes grabby paws at the roll.

I slide it over to his wifey, the purple lizard woman with the colour changing face and a degree in Astromechanics (Also horticulture, Art History and apparently, Interspecies erotica).

"You're over feeding him." Big Atrix says. Small Atrix grakkles. He has opinions and he really wants that bun, but then again if he gets too fat he has to move out, change gender and start paying taxes.

I also know that Godzilla here always skimps on the husband food because she knows I'll swing by with a little something something for her pocket hubby.

"Yeah well, someone has to be the fun Aunt." I say cheerfully. You're always the Aunt with the Atrix, regardless of gender.

I settle in, to eat a lovely meal of... what appears to be chicken flavoured... it's... hmm. Well, it's chicken flavoured and guaranteed not to cause anything to go a funny colour and fall off. It actually tastes great, but I'd describe it as being yes, a thing.

"So," I say around the food flavoured... stuff, "Picked a good solid Traditional Human Name yet?". My friend bobs her head again: Practicing her human physical emotes.

-This should be good. Atrix are good people but they don't have spoken names. They have a word that means 'I'm gonna show you name' then they change their face colours like a cuttlefish. They literally just turn into another person for a moment: This drives most species nuts.

Humans find it hilarious. Atrix can see the funny side. Humans and Atrix get along a little too well for everyone else's comfort and That's The Way We Like It™️.

Big n' Purple thinks about it, then says, "I was thinking... Gondolier Dottirsdottir, or maybe Luminal Effervescence."

OK so the Atrix tend to go for names that are just really fun to say. hence the Secretary General of the Combined Human-Atrix Interstellar Survey, a really big female with as much or more gravitas as a class two black hole - a very serious pocket pal all 'round - being named Pingbing O'Candyfloss.

I consider it. "People will call you Gondy, or Lumy." I point out to her as she feeds purple... bread-y stuff... to the iguana-sized male that lives in her belly pouch. He grakkles at me. He's a sociable little guy, quite chatty, I just have no idea what he's saying. Gondy grackles back and he does Upsies arms.

"Gondy. Ahm-hum. That sounds good. Gondy." she says trying it on. I can see she's definitely enjoying the mouth sound.

She hauls her hubbins out of her pouch, which is covered by her overalls and a big apron flap so he can sleep or play games on her phone.

"Did you... put him in one of those dog jumpers?" I ask as she puts her guy on the table. He looks smug and shows off. It's a small, chihuahua sized Christmas sweater. It's currently May, or close enough. But I'm not going to harsh his mellow. The little dude's obviously stoked to be a fashionista.

Gondy bobs her head looking pleased. "I'm thinking he should be Raxyplank Magellan. Raxy's a cute name." she says.

Raxy looks up and says "Rax!" around a mouthful of hubby food. Well, I can't fault that. At least he gets a name he can say.

For an Atrix male, he's pretty adventurous - He'll talk to people and even come out and walk around if he can keep one eye on Gondy.

Traditionally, or "Back in the day" - Several tens of thousands of years ago, until an Atrix got big enough to be safe, there was a good chance that something would camper up and make a meal of them.

So they have a general resistance to being out in the open, where it's cold and there might be cool alien eagles or space-lizard foxes.

Luckily when they get big enough they develop pouches and to they pick a male out and carry them around for safety and to have someone to talk to and hold shiny rocks (I'm a bit fuzzy on the finer details), so you almost always see two Atrix, even if one of them is usually hiding.

And now Raxy is hanging out with us like a regular little dude and getting crumbs on his ugly Christmas sweater. It is in all ways a pretty nice moment.

Anyway that's about when the station blew up...

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Ghost Story - Chapter 22

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 4400

Warnings: None

Summary: No one will miss a ghost. It'd been a running joke for as long as anyone could remember, something Ghost herself started, and she always said it with a smile on her face or with mirth in her voice. The untouchable stealth pilot in every sense of the word, no one could've predicted the depth of her turmoil over recent events, nor the extremes she would go to in order to protect the man she loved, not even those closest to her. Now, all that was left of the young aviator for Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster were the memories of the past, which would slowly fade with time. She'd come into their lives and made an unforgettable impression, and then, like a ghost, she was gone... Then again, ghosts can't die a second time.

Notes: The chapters/large parts in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Bigger Than The Whole Sky This Is Me Trying

****

Ghost

"Ready to head back?" Maverick asked over the radio. The pair flew side by side across the desert, parallel to the setting sun and away from the mountains they'd used as their playground for the last couple of hours. In the distance, miles and miles away, Ghost could see the warehouse.

"No, but I guess it is getting dark out," she said, mindful that she'd most likely be driving alone in the middle of the desert at night if they didn't return soon. The unappealing idea persuaded her to return to the warehouse.

"Let's head back. I think Penny is on her way with dinner, too. You should stay and eat with us."

"As long as I'm not intruding on family time."

"Not at all. You are family, Ghost."

Smiling to herself, she followed Maverick back to the warehouse. On the way, they followed the road. Ghost noticed three cars in the distance, familiar ones. One, a silver Porsche that belonged to Penny, a red convertible that belonged to Phoenix, a white truck- oddly named Ruby- belonging to Hangman, and an unfamiliar black 4-Runner. Were they all coming for dinner? If Hangman and Phoenix were there, Rooster would undoubtedly be joining. Ghost considered leaving, but it'd look too suspicious if she left right when everyone else arrived, and she'd already told Mav she'd stay. The female aviator would have to stick this out. With the Daggers around, surely she could find a way to avoid Rooster without making things awkward for everyone else. 

Wordlessly, Ghost dipped her plane down, allowing barely thirty feet between herself and the ground. Maverick followed, falling in line next to her. Cracking her neck, she said, "It's not exactly a tower, but I feel the need to buzz them."

Although she couldn't see him, she could hear the mirth in Maverick's voice. "Is this your idea of fun, Ghost?"

Ghost laughed, and as the two rapidly approached the cars, they dared to lower their planes even more. She felt a thrill as they blew past the drivers, and she swore she saw Hangman lean out of his truck window and flip her off, which only made her grin wider than she already was.

Ghost and Maverick landed the planes on the empty road, well ahead of the cars racing to catch up to them. By the time Penny, Phoenix, Hangman, and Omaha- who turned out to be the driver of the 4-Runner- did arrive at the warehouse, the two pilots had already parked the P-51s and disembarked from them.

"You sly dog," Hangman said, swaggering up to Ghost. "How'd you convince the old man to let you fly that?"

Ghost placed her hands on her hips, smiling smugly up at her ex. "Guess he just likes me more than you."

"Impossible."

"Not really," Phoenix said, approaching them with bags of takeout on her arm. That's when Ghost noticed Penny and the other Daggers were all carrying something, too, whether it be bags of food or bags of booze. Noticeably absent was Rooster. Relief and disappointment simultaneously flooded through her. Ghost didn't know what to think. Since when did Rooster pass on an opportunity to hang out with Maverick and crew? She didn't have time to ponder it, though, because Phoenix continued, "I was going to be mad at you for not joining us at the Hard Deck again, but I get it now. I'd ditch us to fly with Maverick too."

"Glad you can see my logic," Ghost said. "Need any help with the stuff?"

"Yeah, help me unpack it." Phoenix strode over to the counter, facing away from the others. Ghost stood next to her, pulling out the containers one by one and only stopping when her phone buzzed. To her shock, Rooster's name flashed on the screen, along with a selfie of the pair at a bar. Ghost's finger hovered over the answer button. Why was he calling? If he wanted to discuss their issues, now was hardly the time. 

"You two still in a funk?" Phoenix asked quietly. Ghost had momentarily forgotten the aviator knew of their issues, although she figured Bob or Rooster had told her the details if she knew any.  

"I think it's gone from funk to gunk," Ghost muttered. Still, not wanting to appear like a bitch, and figuring she'd have to speak to him sometime, Ghost hit the answer button and moved away to a more private section of the hangar in case the conversation turned sour. "Hello?"

"Hey!" Bradley greeted, sounding astonished. "I've been trying to reach you for the last couple of hours-"

"You have?"

"Yeah, then I realized you were probably up in the air, and I thought I'd give it one last shot."

"Really?" Ghost pulled the phone away from her ear and checked her call log. Sure enough, she had three missed calls from Rooster, along with another three from Bryn, and more than a few texts from the couple asking for her to respond. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention to my phone. I'm with Maverick and the Daggers. Why?"

"Oh, cool, you're already at the warehouse. I was going to invite you if you hadn't been already. Guess Hangman got to inviting you before I did."

His words sent warmth through her veins and lifted a small weight off her shoulders. Even though they'd barely spoken to each other in the past two weeks, mainly due to her own stubbornness, he still thought about reaching out to include her. 

"No, I've been here all day," Ghost responded, leaning against the locker.

"Really? How come?"

"Needed to talk to Maverick about work. That's all. How far out are you?"

"Ten minutes. Could you help me carry in the chairs and inflatable mattresses? I have a feeling at least half of us are going to end up smashed and will be spending the night."

Ghost snorted, agreeing wholeheartedly when she saw Coyote and Harvard having a beer-chugging contest out of the corner of her eye. "Good call. See you soon."

They hung up, and Ghost allowed herself to relax a little. That hadn't been near as stressful as she'd imagined. Maybe it was better with a phone between them. Perhaps they'd revert back to their normal tension the moment they stood next to each other.

No, don't think like that! Ghost silently chastised herself. It'll be fine. Don't think about him, talk to everyone else, and enjoy the night.

Of course, telling herself not to think about Rooster was like telling herself not to breathe. There was a hole in her life without his constant presence, and she'd felt it ever since his first deployment, only his sporadic calls, texts, and emails whenever he could reach out filling the void when they were apart. The hole was a million times worse knowing he was right here, yet emotionally so far away. 

Ghost found herself anxious to see him but couldn't decipher if it was good or bad anxiety or a mixture. She kept an eye on the open door of the warehouse for his Bronco, and as he told her, Rooster pulled up in ten minutes. Ghost started striding out to meet him but stopped short when a familiar BMW pulled up alongside him.

Abort mission! Abort mission! Ghost's head screamed when Bryn hopped out of her SUV, all smiles and windblown hair. She opened her trunk, revealing a mass of blankets and two large coolers.

"Hey, Harvard, Yale! Help me with these?" Bryn hollered out. Ghost backtracked immediately, or tried to, running smack dab into Hangman's chest.

"At the risk of making a pun here, you look like you've seen a ghost," he remarked, gently holding her arms. "You okay?"

"I, uh, I didn't know Bryn was going to be here. That's all," Ghost confessed, her nerves spiking. Dealing with Rooster around the Daggers would be one thing, but to have him and Bryn around... Ghost didn't want to deal with this, but how could she escape?

She couldn't.

"I'm gonna assume it's still a shitshow between you two. I'll help Bradshaw if you want to-" 

"No, it's okay. I already told him I'd help. Besides, I have to face him at some point." Patting his chest, Ghost put on her aviators to hide her eyes from the sun and her comrades and walked to Rooster's Bronco. He hopped out of the truck, looking casually handsome in his typical white tee, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, and jeans. Rooster took off his sunglasses and smiled at her, the kind he used to give her before everything went to hell for them.

"Hey, Ghost," Rooster said, walking to the back of his truck. She followed him. "How've you been?"

"Good. Yourself?"

"Not bad. All right, if you want to grab that plastic container, I'll grab the chairs." Ghost obeyed and, supplies in hand, headed back to the warehouse shoulder to shoulder with Rooster. On the way, he said, "Thanks for helping me. Figured everyone else would be plastered already even though I was only a few minutes behind."

"You're not exactly wrong when it comes to Coyote, Fanboy, and Payback," Ghost responded, glancing over at the three boys who were on their second beer.

"Yeah, they started drinking at the Hard Deck. Amazed they're still standing."

"We're not lightweights like you!" Coyote said as Rooster and Ghost walked by him and set the chairs and plastic bin aside. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Halo, Omaha, Phoenix, and Bob moving the couches outside around a fire pit.

Meanwhile, without missing a beat, Rooster replied, "Nah, you're just alcoholics. Hand me one, would you?"

Coyote reached into the cooler, and while he and Rooster shot the breeze, Ghost slipped away and back to the counter with all the food. Penny and Maverick were arranging everything in a buffet style. Ghost eyed the food hungrily, her stomach rumbling at the sight and smell of it. She'd been hungrier than she realized.

"What do we have here?" Rooster asked, appearing behind her and surveying the scene before him. He stood so close to her that Ghost could feel the heat radiating off of him. All she wanted to do was turn around, say she was sorry for pushing him away, and hug him tightly, but she didn't. With him and Bryn back together, Ghost didn't dare show affection toward Rooster other than a smile.

"We have a ton of Chinese food. I'm pretty sure we ordered half the menu," Penny said, wiping her hands on a towel. "It's ready, though, so dig in."

At the word 'ready,' the Daggers swarmed the table, grabbing plates and piling them high with food. Hangman and Rooster nearly stabbed each other with their forks going for the same spring roll. It was only when Bryn chucked a piece of balled-up aluminum at them, so well-thrown that it bounced off of Hangman's face and into Rooster's. The boys stopped and stared at her in shock. Ghost took the opportunity to slip between them and steal the sought-after spring roll. Before they'd even realized what she'd done, Ghost had already devoured the roll and moved away from them.

Once everyone had their food, they shuffled outside, each taking a plastic chair. Ghost snagged the comfiest one and placed it between Hangman and Maverick. Bryn took the couch with Phoenix and Halo, Maverick and Penny took the love seat; the others used the chairs Rooster brought. 

"So, what all have you been up to today?" Maverick asked, scanning his adopted pilots. He listened intently as the group answered. Hangman had been talking to his family most of the morning; when one hung up, a different sibling would call. It was wholly unplanned but something that often occurred in the Seresin clan. They were highly in tune with each other. Coyote, Fanboy, Omaha, Fritz, and Payback played video games, mainly wreaking havoc on each other more than the enemies in the game. Halo and Phoenix went to the spa. Bob went to the beach. Rooster had been napping when he got the invite and had forwarded it to Bryn.

"I almost didn't come," Bryn admitted, shoving some noodles into her mouth. "I wanted to sleep and do nothing, but Rooster convinced me it'd be good for me to come."

"Glad you two worked things out," Hangman remarked, eyeing the couple with a gleam in his eyes. "Bradshaw's much more tolerable with you around."

Bryn snorted. "Whoever heard of an ex having that effect?"

Ghost nearly choked on her spring roll. Thankfully, Fanboy spewing his drink out distracted anyone from noticing Ghost's reaction.

"When did this happen?!" Coyote demanded, his gaze flicking between the exes.

"Earlier this week," Bryn replied casually. "We gave it our best shot, but we both realized we were better off as friends. No hard feelings. If there were, I wouldn't be here."

Ghost's heart dropped to her stomach. While her two friends appeared to be genuinely okay with the fact that they were no longer together, nausea swept over her. They would probably still be a couple if not for her. Were they simply saying they realized they were 'better off as friends' to avoid the truth that might cause some unwanted personal questions? Were they telling the truth or twisting it?

Appetite gone, Ghost stopped eating, subtly and casually handing Hangman the little remaining food on her plate. He didn't question it, too involved in his discussion with Coyote about some new truck model he was thinking of purchasing. She probably could've fed him a rock, and he'd eat it without question. Once her food disappeared, Ghost slipped out of her chair, grabbed a few other empty plates with a fake smile to avoid suspicion, and then high-tailed it to the kitchen. Once away from prying eyes, Ghost dropped the dishes in the sink and braced herself against the counter, shaking. 

I broke them up. They were happy, and I broke them up. What kind of God-awful friend am I? Ghost chastised herself, clenching her jaw painfully tight. I should've reached out to Bryn and tried to help fix things with her and Rooster. I should've done everything I could to make sure they worked things out. But I stayed silent and did nothing.

A nasty second voice popped into her head. What could you have done? You would've made things worse. It's why you're pushing everyone away. Because you break relationships, both you're own and others. You were fighting with Ghoul when she died, you had an argument with your dad the day he died, you're constantly at odds with your mom, you broke Rooster's heart, you hurt Bryn, and you'll probably fuck up with Hangman and Maverick, too, the only people left in your corner. No one will miss a Ghost, so stay away from them all.

"Shut up," Ghost whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and hoping the awful voice would disappear. "Please, just shut up."

She turned around to face the sink and opened her eyes. Blurred vision welcomed her. Fuck, I'm not crying here. Not now. Not when anyone could walk in and see me. Distract yourself. Be productive. Do something other than cry because it won't do jack shit to help.

Listening to her own advice, the only solid advice she had, Ghost set to work cleaning up the kitchen and organizing the mess so it'd be easier to clean up later. Her favorite turned out to be scrubbing the plates and loading the dishwasher. She did it slowly to buy herself time to gather her composure before returning to the Daggers, afraid they'd see how close she was to breaking.

"Hey, you need any help?" Bryn asked, walking up to Ghost with a few more dirty plates.

Ghost shook her head and nodded at the empty counter space next to her. "No, I'm good. You can put the stuff there, and I'll take care of it. Thanks for the offer, though."

"You shouldn't be doing this all by yourself," Bryn argued lightly.

Ghost shrugged. "It's the least I can do for Mav. He's been a big help to me recently, and he let me fly his plane, so I'd like to do something for him in return, even if it's just doing the dishes. Seriously, I'm fine. Go hang out with the Daggers."

"You're not fine, Ghost," Bryn said softly, leaning against the counter a conservative distance away from her friend but still too close for Ghost's comfort. "I may be blond, but I'm not blind. I saw you start handing your food over to Hangman almost right after Rooster and I told everyone we weren't together anymore. You haven't even looked at or talked to me since I got here, either."

"Why would I think you'd want to talk to me?" Ghost countered, finally meeting her friend's gaze. "I lied to you about sleeping with Rooster and caused you two to break up. Outside of the same useless and pathetic apologies I offered the day you found out about me lying to you, what could I possibly say to you?"

When Bryn failed to answer, Ghost sniffed and turned back to the sink. She hoped her hair shielded her face from Bryn's view, that it blocked the sight of the tears forming in her eyes. Ghost assumed her words would've pushed Bryn away, but her friend refused to leave. 

"It wasn't your fault," Bryn said, shifting closer. "You know that, right?"

"No, I don't. You two were happy until I got between you, and I don't understand how you don't hate me right now."

"Because after talking with Rooster and thinking about it over the past week, I realized what you did, you were trying to protect me, just like you try to protect everyone you love. Plus, I think you hate yourself enough over what happened; you don't need any help from me."

Well, she is right about that... Ghost thought grimly, continuing to scrub the dishes with an unnecessary amount of force. Bryn continued on. "I wanted to apologize, too, for-"

"You have absolutely nothing to apologize for," Ghost said sharply, the shocking statement jarring her out of her melancholy and giving her the courage to face Bry again. "You didn't sleep with your best friend's boyfriend and then lie about it."

"We weren't dating yet," Bryn pointed out.

"Semantics."

"Maybe, but it's still true, and I want to apologize for not reaching out to you sooner to try and fix this between us and for not telling you sooner that Rooster and I were over. You should've been the first to know and to know why. We weren't lying earlier when we said we concluded we'd be better off as friends."

"What made you come to that conclusion?"

"Two things. One, and you're already aware of this probably, but Rooster is in love with you, not me. It wouldn't have worked in the long run for that reason. Two, I finally admitted to myself and to him that I wasn't in love with him either. I was in love with the way he made me feel. I've been struggling since Dad died, and Rooster made me laugh and forget about my woes. You did too, just so you know. But that's why I stayed with him so long, and maybe in time, I would've fallen in love with him, but why make him wait when there's someone who's already there? Someone who's been there for a long time?"

"I don't date my friend's exes, Bryn. That's girl code and my own code, and last time I went against those, it caused this whole fiasco."

"So you'll just going to let yourself be miserable?"

"Yes. It'll pass. It always does."

"Ghost, I love you, and what I'm about to say, I'm about to say with the utmost love-" Bryn grabbed her friend's shoulders- "Stop being a stubborn dumbass. I am giving you my verbal, whole-hearted permission to date Rooster. I can give it to you in writing if you need that too. I want you to be happy, and I recognize the only way that'll happen is if you're with him. You've waited years for each other. Now, you're both here, you're both single, and you're still both madly in love with each other. Go for him. I want you to."

Ghost's breath caught in her throat, a moral dilemma battling inside her head. It wasn't a lie to Bryn saying that when Ghost ignored her morals, this entire fiasco was born; on the other hand, Bryn made a point. Ghost had waited years for Rooster to be single and in the same place as her, and she wouldn't be truly happy again until she at least worked things out with him and, fingers crossed, ended up with him. Most of all, Bryn was giving her permission, and like her father, Bryn said nothing she didn't mean.

"I'll consider it," Ghost said, smiling weakly. 

"He's waiting for you when you're ready, and I think he has a slew of apologies for you. Rooster told me about your argument and all that was said. For the record, and on your behalf since you didn't do it, I slapped him violently upside the head when he got to the part about telling you to fuck Hangman if you wanted a boy toy."

Ghost let out a burst of small but genuine laughter. "I appreciate the gesture, especially since you were probably still pissed me with me when you did it."

"Hey, mad at you or not, what he said was uncalled for. I've told him he needs to see a therapist about his anger issues. I know he developed them after his mom died, and it got worse after his fallout with Maverick. There's something deeper at play there, but I don't know what. Maybe you can get it out of him. On a different note, though, are we good?" Bryn asked, her blue eyes strikingly vulnerable. "Because I miss my best friend and want her back."

"We're good," Ghost said sincerely, smiling. Bryn opened her arms, and the two girls hugged each other tightly. Unable to believe the forgiving nature of her friend, Ghost found it hard to comprehend they were actually okay again and back to normal, but she found herself apologizing one more time to make sure Bryn knew how much she regretted her actions. "I am so, so sorry for everything I did and caused."

"I know you are," Bryn said, pulling away. "But promise me you won't beat yourself up anymore about it, okay? You don't need any more additional stress on top of the amount you already have from this tournament."

"I promise. Want to head back out to the Daggers?"

"Yeah. I'm sure they're wondering where we are. Come on." Looping her arm through Ghost's, Bryn dragged her friend away from the sink. Ghost barely managed to shut the faucet off beforehand. They chatted and laughed like nothing ever happened between them, and when they returned to the group, Hangman texted Ghost the second she sat down, asking: You two better?

Ghost looked over at him and nodded.

"Hey, Ghost, how's the tournament going?" Omaha asked, leaning back in his chair. "You number one?"

"Naturally," she said confidently. "The final round is in two days. I think I'm going up against Hollywood. I'm curious about what the last course run will be. Mav, do you know?"

"I do. I picked it," he responded, face lighting up with an impish smirk.

Ghost perked up. "Can I know what it is?"

"I'm sworn to secrecy, but I'll give you a hint: it's the opportunity you would've had had other factors not gotten in your way."

The Gauntlet. He's talking about The Gauntlet! Barely able to contain her excitement, Ghost beamed. "I'm looking forward to it. What's the time limit?"

"Two minutes and thirty seconds."

"How fast did you do it?"

"You're not trying to beat my time."

"If the roles were reversed, whose time would you want to beat?" Ghost countered, leaning forward with a challenging gleam in her eyes. 

Mav nodded understandingly, recognizing she nailed it on the head because he would try to beat his score if he were in her shoes. "Two-fourteen-fifty-four."

"Noted. I'm not promising I'll beat it, but I can promise you I'm going to try."

"If you beat it, then I'm retiring completely. I'll stick to flying my P-51s."

"Yeah, speaking of which-" Coyote interrupted, pointing at her with his fork, which still had a spring roll attached to its prongs- "how the fuck did you manage to convince Mav to let you fly his plane? What kind of black magic did you work?"

"Maybe he trusted me not to break anything on it, like the joystick," Ghost countered, remembering the story of when Coyote pulled back too hard on the control in one of his first flight trainings and snapped it almost cleanly in two. The instructor had to land the plane immediately.

"How do you even know about that?!"

"Ghosts hear the things you don't necessarily want them to. I probably know a lot of things I shouldn't," Ghost admitted, thinking back to all the confidential conversations she overheard between her parents. Ghost never breathed a word about what they discussed, not even telling her parents she'd eavesdropped. She always figured the knowledge of knowing things you weren't supposed to would come in handy one day.

"What I want to know is how the hell you broke a joystick?" Payback said, diverting the conversation back onto Coyote. Ghost laughed and settled back into the couch, watching her friends tease each other and joke around. For the first time that evening, she felt wholly at ease. Ghost even locked eyes with Rooster at one point and offered him a smile, whereas before, she would've hastily diverted her gaze.

As the night wore on, although Ghost chose to listen rather than talk, she occasionally chimed in whenever someone asked her a question. However, Ghost found her mind wandering to her impending mission. Every time she looked at Rooster, Hangman, or Maverick, her heart would constrict. Maybe it was for the best she brought one of them as her wingman, but the idea of losing any of them was unfathomable.

****

Tags: @supernaturaldawning @shanimallina87 @polikszena @lgg5989 @callsign-milano @bradshawsandbridgetons​ @harper1666​ @shadeops21​ @double-j​ @copaceticwriter​ @rotating-obsessions​ @sharkprestige​ @thedarkinmansfield​ @lapilark​ @mickeyluvs​ @starshipfantasy​ @bennypears00​ @mandowife221b​ @the-navistar-carol​ @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth​ @carmellasworld​ @0hb0llocks​ @nicangelinee​ @summ3rlotus @3picklesinajar​ @magentamistress @the-other-hawkeye @elisha-chloe @emilymarie105 @persephone11110 @luckyladycreator2 @boogdleyboo @k0k3 @bibissparkles @lilmonstrjedi @stinkyrat09 @cocoag18 @suburbzchick @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @goodstuff28 @georgiasimpson95 @horselovers2016 @tanithpriad125 @davidshawnsown @sowolfstudentme @agagagfafa @callmemana @sec17 @lunamothenglishmajor @brxklyn15 @hoppy0the0sheep @tomanybandstolove @abigailannz @mini-bee-bee

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22

[dramioneficrecommendations]

Best Draco/Hermione Fics Dramione Shippers Read in 2020

A few days ago, I asked you what were the best Dramione fics you'd read in 2020. Here's the huge list of your excellent recs (in alphabetical order):

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Break for me by Ada_P_Rix: COMPLETE _______________ "-I told them this wouldn’t work.” He cut in through gritted teeth as he kept his eyes on Hermione, making her pulse quicken and she couldn’t help but clench her thighs together at the rough, husky tone of his voice. He didn’t miss it; his eyes landed on her thighs and they darkened even further. “I can’t help her when all I feel like I want to do is pin her down and fuck her into the mattress.” _______________ Hermione gets into a little accident at work and is infected with a hybrid potion created to cause certain heightened side effects. Draco offers to stick around to give his work partner a little support ... if he can Occlude long enough to resist her... E, 7 Chapters, 45,107 Words

Breath Mints / Battle Scars by Onyx_and_Elm: For a moment, she's almost giddy. Because Draco Malfoy's been ruined by this war and he's as out of place as she is and — yes, he has scars too. He's got an even bigger one. She wonders whether one day they'll compare sizes. E, 51 Chapters, 148,908 Words

Bring Him to His Knees by Musyc: Draco is on the case of a murderer, but to investigate, he needs a fake relationship - and a kink club play partner. When Hermione volunteers to take the role, both do their best to maintain the lie without letting each other know the truth: neither of them are acting. E, WIP

Calendar Boys by anne_ammons, Nadiapolyakova (Rijaya83): She had thrown out the idea on a lark, but now Hermione Granger was tasked with bringing the charity calendar to life. What was one more thing on her list? An art/writing collaboration between nadiapolyakova and anne_ammons - twelve photos and a piece of the story behind them. M, WIP

Cherry Mint by dirtymudblood: "He could smell her. Even multiple train cars away, he could smell her. Except, Draco didn’t know who she was. He ignored his natural instincts to pant like a dog and follow the scent to the omega in the beginning stages of heat. Instead he willed himself to rub his knuckles against the rough wood of the table in front of him." E, 27 Chapters, 58,081 Words

Dark Water and Dying Eyebrights by bexchan: One of them is desperately trying to remember their past while the other is forever trying to escape theirs. It's seven years after the war and Draco has managed to avoid almost everyone from Hogwarts, living a lonely life on a small island, far away from the wizarding community. But a familiar face in a cafe window capsizes his world into chaos. Dramione. EWE. Memory fic. M, WIP

Difficult by provocative envy: COMPLETE: "I should," I repeated. "But I don't want to." And then he smiled, and I was wrecked. HG/DM. M, 30 Chapters, 87,041 Words

Don't Look Back by Onyx_and_Elm: It’s the smell of it. Chemical. Bitter and sharp as a raw edge on metal. Just a hint of it as she passes him at breakfast — but enough to stop her dead, mid-step. There is Wolfsbane in his tea. E, WIP

Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time by monsterleadmehome: She scoffs. “If you must know, he ‘elected’ me because he thinks our shared animosity will keep you in check. He’s also not worried about you trying to shag me as a distraction.” He leans back, stubbing out his cigarette on the banister. His eyes rove over her from crown to toe and back. She lifts her chin and tries not to shiver. “Well, he’s right about that.” Lucius Malfoy hires Hermione Granger to whip his son into shape so he can find a pure-blood bride and receive his inheritance. What could go wrong? E, 10 Chapters, 48,092 Words

Draco's Gift by TriDogMom: Draco gives Hermione a gift because of an instructional YouTube video. M, 1 Chapter, 1,705 Words

Dragon in the Dark by GracefulLioness: The battle is won, Voldemort is dead, but the war is far from over. In the new Death Eater regime, Draco Malfoy does what he must to survive and keep his mother safe. Now a highly trained assassin, Draco has learned to think of his targets as inhuman beings, but when he is tasked with killing someone from his past, he can no longer hide from the horrors of the world around him. E, 31 Chapters, 164,782 Words

For a Present Under the Tree by grace_lou_freebush: When Draco and Hermione eloped, the Wizarding World turned against them. Hermione is stuck in a low level, low paying Ministry job with no hope of upward movement. Draco can't even convince someone to hire him. Now, it's Christmas, and Draco knows Hermione deserves the world - or at the least a Christmas gift. He finds the perfect hair comb to replace the horrid Muggle brush she's been making due with, and he'll do anything to afford the paltry present so he can have something to put under the Christmas tree for his wife. Making a beeline for the jewelry box containing the hair combs, Draco rifled through them, landing on an ivory comb with queen anne rose carvings and gold filigree detailing. He brought it to the startled shopkeeper and set it down gently. Pulling his sixth generation Malfoy heirloom pocket watch from his coat, he shoved it in the wizard's face without second guessing himself. "I would like to make an exchange." E, 1 Chapter, 10,141 Words

Fortuitous by MrsRen: Recently divorced Draco doesn't believe in the ideology of having one true love. He certainly doesn't expect to meet his match in a Halloween themed coffee shop, but fate has a peculiar way of giving you just what you need. M, 13 Chapters, 93,695 Words

Fuck, Marry, Avada by Lilian_Silver: Some years after the war, the gang meets up at the Leaky to play a silly game, with very real consequences. E, 1 Chapter, 3,106 Words

Give Me An Hour by RZZMG: As the war continues to rage on around them, Hermione Granger decides to seduce fellow Order Member, Draco Malfoy, one night while at Grimmauld Place... and everything between them changes after that. Fic follows the "five times" trope, and is dedicated to raspberryjukebox. One-shot. A/U-Extended War scenario. Dramione. Drama-Romance-Hot Shag! COMPLETE! M, 1 Chapter, 3,251 Words

Good Girl by arabellaleyes: Hermione is tired of their normal routine in the bedroom. What will happen when she asks Draco to spice things up? One-shot. Complete. M, 1 Chapter, 9,000 Words

Hindsight by floorcoaster: It's a New Year and Hermione decides it's time to make some changes. T, 12 Chapters, 167,694 Words

How to Love Thy Neighbour by WhatSoMalfoy: After her relationship with Ron falls apart, Hermione attempts to juggle a personal muggle life with a professional wizarding one. After encountering her high school nemesis in the most unlikely place, Hermione adds another ball to the juggling mix. M, 14 Chapters, 41,992 Words

How to Move On by longdistance: It's been nearly a decade since the war. A long time since she locked herself away. A long time since he faced his mistakes. She's what he wants. He's what she needs. It's time for both of them to figure out how to move on. M, WIP

Hydrotherapy by eilonwy: Draco finds a trip to the showers after playing Quidditch... enlightening. E, 2 Chapters, 7,163 Words

I Choose You by melanoradrood: At the end of Fifth Year, Hermione finds out why It is that none have approached her with a Marital Contract, the only way she can remain in the Wizarding World after Graduation. It has already been signed by her Magical Guardian, someone she has never met - she is to be the next Lady Malfoy. A year and a half later, she is a married witch, but still, Draco Malfoy, who had chosen her above all others, had not spoken of it. In fact, they barely spoke at all. And when trouble heads their way, Hermione means to change that. Really, she means to change a lot of things. E, 5 Chapters, 24,527 Words

Isolation by Bex-chan: He can't leave the room. Her room. And it's all the Order's fault. Confined to a small space with only the Mudblood for company, something's going to give. Maybe his sanity. Maybe not. "There," she spat. "Now your Blood's filthy too!" DM/HG. PostHBP. Now complete with epilogue. M, 49 Chapters, 284,050 Words

It Happened in Egypt by bionically: Wandless in Egypt: Draco's stranded in Egypt, but luckily, there's a Granger in sight. Now, if only he could be prevented from strangling her. Fun times abroad: It was supposed to be a leisurely solo trip down the Nile. Hermione didn't factor in one blond man from her past and all his drama. Then, of course, there's the fact that everyone's after him. Much hilarity ensues. Maybe. *** A rom-com adventure/mystery featuring two unwilling partners on the run from Lucius Malfoy, alien-hunters, Muggle police, and local wizards engaged in a civil war. T, WIP

Love and Other Misfortunes by senlinyu: Draco Malfoy is dying. He's part-Veela and needs his mate to survive. Post-war, Hermione Granger is a workaholic, up to her eyeballs in legal activism on behalf of Magical Beings, and hasn't yet noticed that Malfoy is the Magical Being who needs her most. “Because I don’t want to be saved by you just because you feel like you have to.” He was properly furious now. “I’m in love with you." Hermione stared at him. She knew but somehow hearing him say it made the air shimmer with magic. "I’m in love with you,” he said again, despairingly. “And that means I want you to be as happy as you possibly can. And you won’t be, not with me.” M, 23 Chapters, 98,584 Words 

Manacled by senlinyu: Harry Potter is dead. In the aftermath of the war, in order to strengthen the might of the magical world, Voldemort enacts a repopulation effort. Hermione Granger has an Order secret, lost but hidden in her mind, so she is sent as an enslaved surrogate to the High Reeve until her mind can be cracked.Now illustrated by Avendell. E, 77 Chapters, 370,473 Words

Measure Of A Man by inadaze22: To truly know someone is to differentiate between who they once were, who they are now, and who they're capable of being. Hermione realises the duality of one man as she rectifies what she knows of the past and begins to understand the pieces of who Draco Malfoy is now: a father, a son, and a man. E, WIP

Meet the Malfoys by raven_maiden: 4 Works, 21, 442 Words

of flavoured names and coloured sounds by Pink Panda (Ejacyeolation): "He doesn’t question it at first, the fact that sounds have colours and words have flavours. He grows up with it, grows up seeing powerful ruptures of colour when his mother plays the piano and softer, translucent bursts when the people around him speak. His father’s voice fills his vision with sombre oranges and lilacs while his mother’s is a pleasant mix of delicate greens, blues, and greys. The word father tastes like wet wood and the word mother tastes like the pumpkin juice the house-elves frequently serve him."In which Draco just wants to know what colour Hermione's moans would be. He also wants to know if her skin would taste as sweet as her surname or maybe as intoxicating as her given name. E, 2 Chapters, 10,351

Once Upon a Night by longdistance: One night will change everything. M, 17 Chapters, 57,444 Words

One and Done by PacificRimbaud: Hermione Granger has a career she loves, friends she can depend on, and a nice set of hand towels for her new flat. She's single and tired of tiresome men, but that doesn't stop her from wearing beautiful lingerie underneath her serious Ministry skirts. Or having pictures taken in naughty knickers. Just once. For herself. Draco Malfoy doesn't get upset at the sight of blood, which is good, because he sees a lot of it. What he doesn't see a lot of is Hermione Granger in her unmentionables. Usually. A series of meetings and mix-ups in which one cannot possibly mean done. E, 4 Chapters, 35,011 Words

Our shared silence by Vofastudum: She wakes up one morning and everyone is just gone, vanished like they never existed at all. Everyone but Him. And in this silent solitude, he's all she has. Hermione and Draco alone in empty castle. Mystery and a plot twist you didn't see coming! EDITED 10/2020 M, 17 Chapters, 40,149 Words

Pinned by bionically: Draco doesn't know what he's expecting when he follows Blaise down a dark alley, but it certainly isn't this. For a man with an addictive personality, this isn't going to turn out well. Assigned trope: Voyeurism *** Or, a chance encounter with a frizzy-haired witch from his misbegotten past in the last place anyone should have expected to see her sets Draco's disordered life on its ear. The path to redemption is truly paved with unexpected surprises. E, 20 Chapters, 110,886 Words

Really Sell It by RoseHarperMaxwell: Draco's having a rough eighth year, and Hermione's going to make it better for him. "Well, it’s clear what needs to happen.” She gripped his chin, tilting his head to make sure she hadn’t missed any injuries, before looking straight into his eyes. “You’re my boyfriend now.” *Featuring fake dating, exhibitionism, and sex-positive Hermione Granger. Submission for Farewell to Summer: The 31 Flavors of Smut Fest. E, 1 Chapters, 7,612 Words

Remain Nameless by HeyJude19: How did it feel? It felt like he was barely holding it together. She, of all people, should shun him. Or yell at him. Curse him. Spit at him. Take out her wand and blast him off the face of the earth. It was crushing guilt and relief and confusion all at once when he looked at Hermione Granger. The monotony of Draco’s daily routine had become both a lifeline and a noose. But this new habit of grabbing coffee with Hermione Granger is quickly becoming a reason to get out of bed and is unfortunately forcing him to re-evaluate his inconsequential existence. Hermione is living her life in fragments, separate pieces scattered about, and she can’t find a way to step back and let the full picture form. Why are morning meetings with Draco Malfoy the only thing that make sense anymore? E, 51 Chapters, 312,315 Words

Remember Us As War (but call us forgiveness) by Anyaparadox: Following the devastation of the Battle of Hogwarts, The Wizarding Population Growth Act is put into effect. All witches and wizards will be matched with their most compatible partner. Failure to comply will not be tolerated. Survival is key. Hermione reminds herself of this. Survival. She can fix this, if only she can survive. The war has made this a task she is equipped for. Marrying Draco Malfoy will hardly be the worst thing she's ever endured. M, WIP

Ring A Ring O' Roses by Gallivant: Dark Magic, Dark Wizards and a mysterious and deadly Dark Flux, which, in the wrong hands, has the terrifying potential to mass-murder Muggles and Muggle-borns ... It’s been fourteen years since the end of the Second Wizarding War and the Wizarding World is settled, stable and seemingly safe… Hermione Weasley has it all: a loving family, a successful career - and happiness… of sorts. But a series of unexpected events is about to turn her life upside-down, threatening those she loves, fatally undermining the peace between worlds that has prevailed for centuries … changing life as she knows it, possibly forever. If working with Draco Malfoy was the last thing Hermione Weasley ever wanted, falling for your enemy was the least expected. A quest to thwart a magical weapon of mass destruction has devastating consequences. A race to save the world, becomes a race to save themselves… M, 65 Chapters, 527,141 Chapters

Set Fire to the Rain by HarleyQuinn1317: What happens when the one you're destined for is the last person you should ever be with... When the Ministry of Magic asks for volunteers for their Marriage Initiative, Hermione Granger must come to terms with the one terrible deed she committed during the Second Wizarding War. Can she find it in her heart to forgive herself and finally learn to let love in? E, WIP

Sex and Occlumency by Graendoll: Hermione didn't escape from the war unscathed, and when she finally decides on a solution to her problems she's left to explore it on her own. A chance encounter with Draco Malfoy sets her world on it's head and leads her down a path towards healing that she would never have anticipated. E, 18 Chapters, 65,079 Words

The Art of Seating Etiquette by inadaze22: Hermione believes that every problem has a solution, and that solution can be found in a book. That is, until Draco starts sitting to her right every Friday. She has no answers until help comes in the form of an unlikely source: Ron Weasley. E, 1 Chapter, 9,734 Words

The Auction by LovesBitca8: In the wake of the Dark Lord’s triumph over Harry Potter, the defeated must learn their new place. Hermione Granger, former Golden Girl, has been captured and reduced to human chattel. Sold to the highest bidder as the top prize at an auction of Order members and sympathizers, she is thrust into the rabid, waiting hands of the Death Eaters. But despite the horrors of Voldemort’s new world, help—and hope—seem to arise from the most unlikely of places. PART 3 of the RIGHTS AND WRONGS series. E, 41 Chapters, 325,702 Words

The Binding by Curly_Kay: “Okay, what we know so far.” Hermione listed, "One, our magic is drawing us together. Two, we can use each other’s wands. Three, there were actual sparks when you touched me."After an infant binding ritual magically joins Hermione and Draco to counteract the Black family blood curse, they must navigate the secret binding through their years together at Hogwarts. E, 35 Chapters, 175,451 Words

The Carnal Club by Ada_P_Rix: COMPLETE The Halloween Ball is fast approaching with Hermione at the helm.... What a delightful time to suddenly learn of a centuries old secret sex-game club that is currently ran by a Blonde haired Slytherin. Oh, and it only happens once a year every October, when the winner takes all at the Halloween Ball ...The First Rule of Carnal Club: You do not talk about Carnal Club. E, 8 Chapters, 43,306 Words

The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy by Speechwriter (batmansymbol): The night that Harry and Dumbledore return from the cave, the Death Eaters are delayed from reaching the top of the Astronomy Tower for one more minute. Draco Malfoy lowers his wand. A Deathly Hallows rewrite in which Draco accepts Dumbledore's offer to fake his death and go into hiding with the Order of the Phoenix. T, WIP

The Erised Effect by Ada_P_Rix: Hermione and Pansy work in a shop together. Draco, Harry, Theo and Blaise all work together at the Ministry. They all meet up every Friday at the pub to have drinks. Pansy has a new fantasy potion that she likes to call 'The Erised Effect' that she's keen to try out on willing participants ... Boys are so easy to manipulate when alcohol is involved .... E, 13 Chapters, 88,852 Words

The Fallout by everythursday: Hermione learns about growing up through the redemption of Draco Malfoy. E, 49 Chapters, 310,229 Words

The Figures of Figuring Out by Vofastudum: You were the biggest riddle in my life. You were the one I couldn't figure out. You were the only thing I couldn't find a pattern to. You were something I couldn't look up from any book. Unwritten, with no instructions. And I was used to finding solutions! Post-war eight-year secret romance. Edited 12/2020 M, 13 Chapters, 26,951 Words

The Flat in Bath by Ada_P_Rix: Loosely inspired by 365 Days...-- Malfoy grabbed her chin, forcing her to look directly at him. “Don’t you dare, Granger...” He told her roughly as his intense gaze bored into her own. “I fucking forbid you to come until I’ve had enough of you...” Draco caught her cheeks now between the fingers of his free hand and then snapped her head to the side and licked her earlobe, trailing down to her jawline. “...one flutter of those delicious walls of yours and you’re going to wish you never opened your legs for me.” -- __________________ Hermione is kidnapped during a raid and taken captive by someone who doesn't plan on 'torturing' her in the conventional way... E, WIP

The Gloriana Set by ThebeMoon: The War is won, and Hermione Granger is back at Hogwarts as an “Eighth Year”, feeling reckless and determined to shed her prim bookworm persona. She will do as she pleases, and anyone who doesn’t like it will see the business end of her wand. Also returning is Draco Malfoy, universally hated but determined to restore his family’s name. Hermione’s hopes for a quiet school year are quickly dashed as she contends with mischievous First Years, killer plants, enchanted hair accessories, a totally inappropriate Moaning Myrtle, renegade Death Eaters, a nice vampire, a poorly named study group, a depraved party, and mysterious, threatening blood messages on the castle walls. We have redemption, partial redemption and (sadly or hilariously) no redemption at all. Throw in a snarky, disturbingly attractive Draco with his own secret agenda, and we have a very slow-burn Dramione with a side of who-dun-it. COMPLETE! M, 81 Chapters, 271,830 Words

The Library of Alexandria by senlinyu: The Library of Alexandria is not for just any witch or wizard. Many bookworms may try but few are permitted to pass through its doors. The books residing there are ancient and powerful and, if one happens to make a mistake, the consequences can be rather—novel. E, 6 Chapters, 26,383 Words

The List by AureliaBlack90: After her divorce, Hermione decides to get out of town to recover from the pain of her lost relationship and the miscarriage she suffered a year previously. She arrives in the Cotswolds depressed and aimless but compiles a list of things to do that she hopes will help her get back on her feet. In the midst of her journey to find healing she keeps running into Draco Malfoy, who is nothing like she remembered him. He invites her into his world, and Hermione finds exactly what she was looking for - in the place she least expected it. E, 10 Chapters, 70,526 Words

The Manuscript by alexandra_emerson: Five 1/2 years after the war, in the middle of a big fight with Draco, Hermione finds a manuscript. It’s a retelling of her and Draco’s love story, written by him. She never realized how much he was struggling before she read his words. Snippet: I could spend my whole life apologizing to you Hermione, and it would never be enough. Post-war, angst-filled Dramione with a happy ending. M, 21 Chapters, 154,918 Words

The Memory of You by PotionChemist: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger fell in love against all odds, but there was one big problem — he was already married. Pressured, Hermione does something she promised herself she would never do again and erases their affair from his memory. Completely devastated, she avoids seeing Draco or the Malfoys at all costs. But is their love too strong? Are they inevitable? What will happen if he finds out about their previous relationship? E, WIP

The Mountain and The Sea by AlexisDanaan: Hermione Granger was perfectly happy with her life, her job as a Healer Trainee, her ugly cat and her cute little house in the countryside. And then Draco Malfoy had to go and mess that all up, typical git. Post-Hogwarts, EWE, OOC, creature!fic. E, 12 Chapters, 40,441 Words

The Nietzsche Classes by Beringae: The Ministry takes action against the remaining prejudice in the wizarding society and asks Hermione for help. “What do you want? Money? Power? Name your price, Granger. I’m not about to let pride get in my way when an Azkaban sentence is on the line.” M, 15 Chapters, 45,807 Words

The Phoenix Potion by FedonCiadale: Twenty years after the battle of Hogwarts.... Harry is head auror and is worried about cases where Muggleborn children meet with accidents, Ron is a famous Quidditch keeper. Both haven't talked to Hermione for ages and certainly not to her husband, Draco Malfoy. Narcissa Malfoy struggles with a curse, and Neville and Luna try to stay friends with all. The key to solving the problems may lie in the past, a time nobody really wants to revisit and some can't. T, 111 Chapters, 237,745 Words

The Potioneers by omnenomnom: They need each other unfortunately. Hermione has tricked Draco under her tutelage, arrogant attitude and all. But she would be simple to think he would accept it quietly. They have both have secrets to hide, old wounds better left to fester, and a world full of mermaids, dragons, and magic to explore. T, 53 Chapters, 196,559 Words

The Pretense by Colubrina: Voldemort died, but the Death Eaters live on. Hermione Granger traded herself to Draco Malfoy in exchange for safe passage for core Order members. Now he's pretending to love her, Narcissa is pretending to believe that, and Hermione is walking a tightrope behind enemy lines as she figures out what is going on. Unfortunately, people fall off tightropes. (no non-con) T, 50 Chapters, 108,164 Words

The Right Thing To Do by LovesBitca8: Hermione felt the pounding in her ears again. She would see him for the first time since the Great Hall, gaunt and stricken at the Slytherin table with his mother clutching his arm. She hadn't meant to look for him. Not in the corridors, not beneath the white sheets of the fallen, not on the way to the Chamber of Secrets with Ron, but she was a stupid girl. E, 36 Chapters, 174,911 Words

The Seven Year Witch by TheLastLynx: A boy and a girl have been meeting – coincidentally – for seven summers. While they pretty much hate one another most of the year, for those secret summer moments, they manage to see each other in a different light. But will that be enough to bring them together? A Dramione story about growing up and changing perspective, told along - and in-between - the lines of canon. M, WIP

Thirty Times Lucky by galfoy: "Granger, I can't hire you on any longer," Draco said. Hermione stared at him. Losing her job might actually mean losing the War, and she had to bargain, but there was literally nothing she had that he would want. Or was there? M, 2 Chapters, 7,128 Words

Traditions by raven_maiden: She straddled him slowly, still biting her lip, her hands on his shoulders. He held her hips tightly as he stared up at her. “So beautiful,” he whispered, and she flushed prettily, like she always did from his compliments. “You never need to hide from me.” ** Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy fell in love during the war. One year later, they're heading home for the holidays so he can finally meet her parents. There's just one teeny little problem: her parents think they're both Muggles. E, 14 Chapters, 68,767 Words

Waifs and Strays by Kyonomiko: War leaves a lot of orphans in its wake. Hermione is one, by her own hand, and she struggles with the realities of her situation. When she finds an orphaned familiar, it seems meant to be, giving and receiving comfort helping to heal her fractured heart. Unfortunately, the animal is actually a wizard, and he has his own issues. M, 31 Chapters, 118,152 Words

What You Think Is Right by icepower55: Six years after the war, Hermione parents are dying and her marriage to Draco is crumbling. Nothing seems logical in her life anymore. Her healer tells her to start writing about it, so she does, as a way to figure things out, and remind herself along the way. Hell is proximity without intimacy -Dante's Inferno M, WIP

When the Bell Tolls by everythursday: As a Dark revival begins to rise four years after the war, Hermione Granger is placed on the assignment of putting an end to them – and her first task is to recruit the Ministry's best hope and last option in the form of Draco Malfoy. E, 20 Chapters, 148,033 Words

Wreck by JMilz: Serving as Minister for Magic, Hermione Granger is finally at the peak of her career. With a beautiful family, a successful book, and the public on her side, her life should be a fairytale. Unfortunately, there is trouble in paradise, and when Draco Malfoy pays her a visit, she begins recalling their history and questioning her marriage. The reality is: every relationship is hard. M, 53 Chapters, 187,992 Words

Thanks to every person who contributed (I hope I've mentioned everyone. If not, let me know. 😊): @certified-arsehole @fedonciadale kiwim22 @really-sad-devil-guy endless-musings @headfullofnargles @pinksunsets-world @rosseliz01 @dramioneden @all-consuming @elricsister @injailoutsoon12 reclusivebird @mariakov81 @notthatchhavi @mordanbooqs @haaatch @hpsassenach @ybaeby @farmgirl-in @coyg-81 @eiramrelyat metterschling-plus-two @a-maidens-fantasy @sansacat @vofastudum @lexayeon @1800-rewrite @aneiria-writes @anonymouslydramione 

It took much longer to compile this list than I thought it would. Hopefully, I didn’t skip anything. 🙈

Happy New Year. May it be better than the previous one and full of great Dramione fics and fanarts! 🥳🥳🥳

And here’s the 2019 list: https://dramioneficrecommendations.tumblr.com/post/190216354767/what-is-the-best-dramione-fic-you-read-in-2019

[jungwonenthusiast]

hi ! enhypen smut prompt request ! can i have the reader whos a female say #4 with jake or sunghoon whos a hard dom ?? if u can , can u add how the reader and the partner are enemies who got lots of sexual tension so they kinda trease e/o a lot with words and actions ? u dont have to use that plot but thank u♡

A/N: This is one of my favorite works now lol i hope u like it :) <3

Warnings: unprotected sex, rly brief oral (f recieving), degredation

Word Count: 2.9 k

“But it’s a Tuesday,” you tell Jay while zipping up your backpack.

“So?” he says. “Don’t be lame.”

“I’m not lame, just responsible.” you sing your bag over your shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s lame.” he walks with you to the lunch tables. Jungwon and Heeseung are already there chatting it up.

“You guys are coming right?” Jay asks them and they nod. “See? You gotta come.”

“It’ll be fun noona,” Jungwon says. “And you have to come because Heeseung hyung and Jay hyung are probably gonna leave me for girls.” he rests his head on your shoulder for a moment.

“Why don’t you get yourself some girls too.” you suggest and he shakes his head.

“I’m too shy.” he says quietly and you giggle.

“Alright fine, I’ll go.” you finally say and they all celebrate. “Jake’s not gonna be there right?”

“Uhm,” Heeseung looks over to Jake’s lunch table nervously. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” you cock an eyebrow.

“He won’t be there,” Jay says. “It’ll be fine.”

You feel someone bump into your shoulder as you walk to history.

“What the hell?” you say and turn around to see who the culprit is. Of course it’s Jake. He shrugs with a half smile. That fucking ass.

After a few more classes you head home and start preparing for the bonfire party. It’s at a beach so you decide to wear your favorite bikini under your shirt and shorts. Your phone begins to buzz and it's a facetime call from Jungwon.

“Hola~” you greet him.

“Hi~” he says. “Can you take me there? My parents are at work.”

“Sure.” you say while putting all of your essentials into a purse.

“Also,” he hesitates. “I think Jake hyung is gonna be there.”

“What? How do you know?”

“I heard him talking about it during p.e.” he says quietly and you groan.

“Fuck, I don’t wanna go anymore.” you say.

“No you have to go, I will die without you.” Jungwon pleads. “It’ll be fun, we'll just stay away from him.”

“It’s gonna be hard to stay away from that giant ego taking up the whole place.” you roll your eyes.

“He’s not that bad noona, he’s actually pretty nice.” Jungwon shrugs.

“Don’t betray me like that,” you scold him. “You’re on my team alright?”

“Okay okay.” he surrenders, giggling.

You pick Jungwon up and give him the aux for the 30 minute drive to the beach.

You guys groove to SZA together.

Jungwon rolls down the window while you're on the highway and sticks his head out like a dog. He kind of is like a dog (in a good way). He’d be a shiba inu.

“Whoooo!!” he screams as the wind whips through his hair, you smile.

When you get there you park your car and get the beach towels from the backseat.

“Did you put sunscreen on?” you as Jungwon and he shakes his head. “Why do you never listen to me?”

You get a bottle of sunscreen out of your purse and rub a dollop on his face. He scrunches his nose.

“It feels like you're rubbing cake batter on me.” he complains.

“You’ll thank me when you’re fifty and you aren’t a wrinkly wreck.” you tell him while spreading it over his cheeks.

“Can we be done now?” he whines and you sigh.

“Fine.”

You two approach the crowd of people suntanning, drinking, playing volleyball, and playing in the ocean.

You drop your stuff next to Heeseung’s and Jay’s before looking around for them. They’re playing volleyball with who on the opposing team? Jake Sim.

Jungwon must’ve noticed you shooting lasers through your eyes because he grabs your arm. “Come on, let’s go swim.” he tugs his t-shirt over his head and jogs over to the water.

You follow suit, only feeling a little self conscious about stripping with Jake Sim only so far away. But it’s only because you don’t want to be vulnerable in front of your worst enemy, right?

Jungwon’s already relaxing among the waves when you get to the shore. “Why’d you go so deep?” you call out to him.

“It’s not that deep,” he says back.

You swim around with him for a bit before forcing him to look for pretty shells with you.

He gasps. “Baby crab!” he rushes to pick it up. “Look.” he holds it up to you.

You try to pet it without freaking it out. “What if it bites you?”

“It won’t, we’re friends.”

The sun is nearly gone by the time you’re done shell searching and swimming so you head over to the bonfire. You wrap a towel around yourself and snuggle up to Jay. He scrunches his nose.

“It’s cold,” you defend yourself.

Heeseung hands you a white claw and you crack it open.

“What are we doing now?” you ask but you can’t hear Heeseung’s answer over the sight of Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Niki sitting right across from you. You notice how the bonfire highlights the muscles in Jake’s chest and arms. The warm orange light washing over him makes it look like he’s glowing. Is this what Apollo would’ve looked like? “Huh?” you ask Hee.

“We’re probably just gonna play dumb highschool games.” he says.

You inhale and take a big swig of your seltzer.

“Truth or dare time~” Bree sing songs. “Sunoo truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Sunoo answers.

“Do you have a crush on anyone and if so, who?” she asks and he rolls his eyes.

“I have a crush on myself.” he says confidently.

“Fair enough, you go now.” she says to him.

“Heeseung hyung, truth or dare?” Sunoo asks.

“Dare,” he replies and Sunoo giggles.

“Give your phone to Jay and let him text anyone anything he wants.”

Heeseung groans and throws his head back. “Oh God.”

Jay cackles an evil laugh. “Gimme.”

Heeseung reluctantly hands Jay his phone. “You’re gonna text Sophie aren’t you.”

Sophie Morales, Heeseung ex. They broke up only a month ago after half a year of dating. This was about to be brutal.

“You know me so well.” Jay smiles.

“Please don’t say anything too horrible.” Heeseung pleads.

“Sophie,” Jay narrates his text message. “I miss you and your huge tits. Also I’m sorry for not telling you while we were dating but your feet are really fucking ugly.”

Heeseung buries his head into his hands, laughing. “Fucking Christ.”

“And your breath stinks,” Jay continues. “At least your boobs are nice.”

This is what I get for befriending males. You think to yourself.

“Alright that’s enough.” Heeseung snatches his phone away while everyone giggles. “My turn since I was the victim. y/n, truth or dare?” “Truth,”

“What’s your biggest regret?”

“Becoming friends with Jay, because he’s insane.”

Jay guffaws. “I’ve been nothing but good to you.”

You roll your eyes.

The game goes on for a bit until it lands on Jungwon.

“Noona, truth or dare?”

You’d usually go for truth, but you didn’t want people to think you were boring. “Dare.”

“I dare you and Jake hyung to talk to each other in private for at least five minutes.” he says, crossing his arms.

Your eyes widen and you look over at Jake, he looks like he wants to drown himself.

“What? Why?” you ask urgently.

“Because I’m tired of you guys hating each other for no reason. Now go.” Jungwon shoos you away.

“Yeah go talk.” Niki says to Jake.

Both of you don’t budge. Jay tugs at your arm. “Come on, Jake and y/n becoming friends!”

The whole group starts chanting. “JAKE AND Y/N BECOMING FRIENDS!”

You had to admit that their enthusiasm was kind of endearing, so you swallow your pride and walk over to the lifeguard tower. You hear him not far behind you.

You climb up the stairs and let your feet hang over the ledge of the patio.

He sits down next to you.

You let a few moments of silence pass before speaking up. “I don’t want to be here as much as you do, so let’s just wait for the five minutes to pass and then go.”

“Damn,” he says. “Do you really hate me that much?”

You roll your eyes. “What do you think?”

“What did I ever do to you?” he scoffs.

“I don’t need to justify my feelings.” you cross your arms.

“Why are you so dense?” he grumbles.

You whip your body over to him. “I’m the dense one?”

“Yeah,” he says proudly. You want to slap the smug look off of his pretty face. Normal face. Slightly, almost, barely good looking face.

“Such a prick,” you mumble, turning away.

“What’d you call me?” he scrunches his eyebrows.

You look him right in the eyes. You never noticed how dark and piercing they were. “A fucking prick. Cause you are one.”

His black hair is still damp and poking into his eyes. His lips are parted and they look so soft that you almost want to kiss him. But he beats you to it.

I should push him away. Push him away you dumbass. You kept telling yourself but you couldn’t do it. His lips felt too good against yours.

Your arms snake around his waist as he lays you onto your back.

You wish you had a hundred hands so you could touch all of him. Two weren’t enough. He feels like silk and he tastes like red velvet.

He pushes your jaw up so he can get to your neck. You exhale as his tongue dances on your skin. He grinds his hips into yours and you let out a small moan. Why are you letting him affect you like this? Idiot.

“I thought you hated me?” he smirks while kissing your chest.

“I do.” you breathe out.

“You sure?” he asks, his fingers traveling down your stomach and into your bikini bottoms.

“Mhm.” you say.

He kisses your collarbone. “People you hate don’t make you wet like this.”

That just makes you throb even more.

“Fuck off,” you say and he backs up.

“Really?” he says. “Because I will.”

You roll your eyes and pull him in by the back of the neck.

“Touch me,” you say and he happily obliges. You knew were in public but it was dark and honestly, you didn’t care.

“Such a slut,” he says while running a finger up and down your slit. “If you wanted me this badly you should’ve said so sooner.”

“I don’t want you asshole.” you breathe out as he circles your clit.

“You just asked me to touch you princess,” he kisses your neck. “I think that’s good evidence.”

You rub your fingers through the back of his hair and tug it back, exposing his neck. He lets out a small moan. You kiss his neck, sucking and nibbling every now and then. When you pull away there’s at least three red blotches that go from his throat to his chest.

“People are gonna see those you know?” he says.

“Whatever.” you roll your eyes.

“Are you marking me or something? Telling everyone that I’m yours?” he boasts.

It’s confusing how your anger is feeding into your lust for him.

“Shut up and fuck me.” you say and he cocks a brow.

“Maybe if you ask nicely,” he kisses your cheek sweetly. You want to wipe it off and slap him in the face.

“Who do you think you are?” you scoff at him.

“Come on dont play with me,” he pushes one finger into you and you moan. “I can tell that you want it.”

It was true. You were practically gushing.

“More,” you say, wanting another finger.

“Where are your manners?” he smirks.

You swallow your pride. “Please?”

“Good girl,” he says and it sends tingles down your spine.

He pulls your bikini bottoms to the side and rubs his thumb up your slit. “Such a pretty cunt.”

Your thighs are already trembling.

“I really thought you’d still be hating me right now.” he says lowly. “Do I make you that weak?”

You snap to your senses for a moment. “Fuck you.”

“I am.” he snickers and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t give me attitude princess.” he warns you with a dangerous smile.

“Or what?” you test him.

“Do you really wanna find out?”

“What do you think you’re intimidating or something?” you ask and he scoffs.

He sits up and grabs your arm. “Get up.”

“What?”

“Get up.” he says sternly and you do.

He grabs your hand, leading you somewhere.

“Where are we going?” you ask, agitated. If you really didn’t want to go you wouldn’t, but you secretly wanted to continue what was going on.

“My car.”

“What? Why?”

“You’ll see.”

“Hey! Where are you going?” Jungwon calls out. “Don’t leave me!” “I’ll be just a second!” you reply with an unsure smile.

“Backseat.” Jake says as you approach his Mercedes.

So bossy, you think.

You sit in the back seat and before you know it he’s pulling you into his lap.

“Let’s continue shall we?” he says and you don’t waste any time getting your lips on his.

He pushes your hips down onto his and you whimper. You were already so wet and this was just making it worse.

“Please, I can’t wait any longer.” you say, not being able to hold it in.

“For what?” he nips at your neck.

“I need to feel you inside of me.” you plead. 

“That’s better.” he tugs his shorts down and pulls your swimsuit to the side.

You grab the base of him before slowly sinking down. “Fuck yes.” you moan in relief.

He fills you up perfectly and his tip brushes your g-spot every time you bounce.

“So fucking tight.” he growls, holding onto your hips tight.

Your legs begin to tremble from the pleasure so he grabs you by the waist and lays you on your back.

He snaps his hips into yours and you whine.

He smirks. “Look at you all spread out for me,” he kisses your neck. “Taking this cock deep inside you.”

Your fingers trail down to rub at your clit. “Please don’t stop.”

He flips you over into doggy and tugs your hair, bringing your ear up to his mouth.

“Tell me how bad you want it.”

“Really bad,” you whimper.

He smacks your ass and you let out a small squeal.

“Touch with yourself while I fuck you.” he lets you go and you rest on the door. Your fingers move to play with your pussy.

His hands are tight on your waist as he pounds into you.

You feel your knees start to give out and your cunt start to pulse around him.

He chuckles. “Are you close sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Please make me cum, please I need it so bad.”

“Why should I think you deserve it?”

“Please, I can’t hold it any longer.” you say and he stops his movements completely.

He gets close to your ear. “You get to cum when I say so okay?”

You accept defeat. “Okay.”

You start to get more and more flustered as he continues to fuck you just right.

“Fuck Jake I can’t,” you whimper and hold onto the car door for dear life.

He pulls out suddenly and you complain before feeling his tongue on you. Your body tenses up from the pleasure.

“You taste so fucking good,” he says and you arch your back, pushing your pussy into his mouth. He moans against you.

After only a couple circles on your clit with his tongue, you’re ready to come undone. You grab onto his hand.

“Wait wait I’m close,”

And before you can utter another word he slams his cock into you and brings his hand around you to rub your clit.

“Cum on this cock sweetheart, I know you can do it.” he encourages you.

He smiles as your moans get louder and more high pitched.

Your legs start to shake and he grabs you tight. He comes up to your ear. “Be a good girl for me won’t you.”

Your eyes roll back as bliss runs through your entire body. He was probably the best lay you’ve ever had.

Your body goes slack as he cums inside of you.

“Fuck,” he growls and slowly pulls out. He picks you up and holds you in his arms as you try to ride out the trembling.

“How am I supposed to clean up?” you ask.

“Maybe you can swim again?” he jokes and you punch him in the arm. “Do you still hate me?”

“One hundred percent.” you say confidently.

“Are you kidding?” he scoffs. “My kids are in you right now.”

You fake gag and he laughs.

[rocorambles]

Mission: Seduce Kuroo Tetsurou

Pair: Kuroo x Reader

Genre: NSFW, Slight Angst, Fluff, Porn With Plot

Warnings: Degradation, Master/Pet Dynamics, Sex Toys, Overstimulation, Cum Play, Nipple Play

Prompt: "Guess I'll just have to cum inside you."

Summary: You really should have just spoken to Kuroo about your insecurities instead of letting everything spiral out of control. But that’s okay, your husband is more than happy to thoroughly remind you that you’re the only woman he’ll ever want.  

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this spicy prompt. (Masterlist goes live Monday 31st August 11:30pm U.K. time!) 

You stretch your arms over your head as a big yawn rumbles throughout your entire body. It’s too early for any sane person to be up, even the sun is barely creeping in through the windows of your apartment, but your husband has hardly been sane recently with the crazy amount of hours he’s been pouring into work. You’re lucky that you even woke up before he left and you smile as you hear your overgrown house cat rustle around your bathroom and bedroom, getting ready for the day. 

“Tetsurou, hurry up so you have time to eat at least a little breakfast before you head out! You’ve been skipping it too much recently. You wouldn’t want me to leave you for one of those pro-athletes you work so closely with when you become just stick and bones, would you?” 

You bite back a laugh when your husband’s messy bed hair peeks out from around the corner and hazel eyes narrow at you, but you’re not laughing when he finally saunters over to you in his suit and traps you against the kitchen counter between his long arms, leaning in so close your noses are brushing and just when you relax and close your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you, you rapidly blink your eyes open as he gives you a quick light peck before ambling off to pour himself a cup of the green tea you’d brewed. With a pout, you warm up the rice balls you’d bought last night and place them on the dining table, wrinkling your nose in displeasure at the smirk on Kuroo’s face, but it’s all forgotten as the two of you lightly chat over breakfast, Kuroo’s long legs spreading into your space across the table, your calves gently rubbing against each other as you laugh and eat. But all too soon it’s time for him to go and he gives you another loving peck before racing out the door and with a sigh, you wash the dishes before getting ready to leave for work yourself.

You love Kuroo with all your heart. Your feelings for him have only gotten stronger over the years and even after tying the knot with him, you can’t help the way your heart flutters and warmth fills your chest whenever the two of you lock eyes. But when your mind replays the teasing scene from this morning, your thighs clench and you bite your lips. Kuroo’s always been a tease and you love it as much as you hate it. No one knows how to rile you up like he does and he uses that to his advantage, rendering you a desperate, needy mess before finally making good on all his dirty promises. But lately, he hasn’t been following through. You can’t even remember the last time you’d done anything more than heatedly make out. 

At first, you had tried to be patient. You know far too well exactly why he hasn’t been in the mood recently. It’s so obvious to you. It’s obvious in the ever growing and darkening circles underneath his eyes. It’s obvious in the way he can barely stay awake when you do manage to spend some time together when he comes back home from work. It’s obvious in the way he immediately passes out as soon as his head hits the pillow. Hell, even his messy bed hair that usually defies gravity seems to slump more and more with every passing day. He’s exhausted. You’ve always loved how dedicated and hardworking Kuroo is. It’s one of the many reasons you’d fallen for him and you know how important his job is to him, but you wonder if it’s time to intervene as you watch your husband walk around your shared apartment like a zombie. Also, more selfishly, you have needs and it’s been months since you’ve been stuffed full by him and really, this is all Kuroo’s fault for training your body to constantly yearn for him after all the years he spent pleasuring you over and over again. With a determined glint in your eyes, you begin to scheme. Let Mission Seduce Kuroo Tetsurou begin.

You scan yourself in the mirror pleased with how you look in a strappy lingerie set you know drives Kuroo crazy. It’s a delicate and intricate creation of lace and ribbons that barely covers you, only accentuating the curves of your figure, but you know it’s the one strip of ribbon that travels in a single bold line between your breasts and leads up to a delicate lacy red collar wrapped around your neck that will specifically catch Kuroo’s eyes. Checking the time, you excitedly perch yourself on the bed, positioning yourself seductively, candles flickering and enhancing the mood as you wait for him, but a hour passes and you unwillingly succumb to sleep, ignorant of the way your phone buzzes with an apologetic text from Kuroo, letting you know he’d be home even later than usual. Blearily you open your eyes and wince as daylight sears your vision. Wait...daylight? You scramble to sit up and check your surroundings and your shoulders sag in frustration when you find yourself still in your lingerie set, but carefully tucked into bed, blankets wrapped around your body, Kuroo’s side of the bed empty and cold. You reach over to look at your phone, getting up to get dressed for work, when you see a new text from your husband. 

Sorry, kitten. You must have been waiting a long time for me last night. You looked absolutely beautiful. Look! I even took some pictures so I could remember. But maybe next time try not to fall asleep while the candles are still lit ^.^  

Your face heats up at the lewd pictures he’d taken of you while you were fast asleep and your heart warms at his compliment, but you stubbornly shake your head. There’s no time to be distracted. You’re still a woman on a mission. 

Attempt two takes place that weekend and you watch your husband from the shadows, lurking behind him before finally pouncing on him as he sits at his desk, answering a work phone call. You saucily wink at him as you saunter into his view and you smirk at the way he clears his throat and gulps at the sight of you dressed in nothing but his old Nekoma jersey and black thigh highs. And when you sink to your knees and arch your back just so, you almost snicker at the way he hisses when his jersey rides up and your bare ass is displayed. But he collects himself enough to firmly, but gently shove you away from him as you try to pull his boxers down and despite a few more attempts on your end, you instantly stop when he puts his phone on mute and sternly says your full name. 

But Kuroo’s always been weak against your puppy dog eyes and with a slight roll of his eyes, he beckons you to sit on his bare thigh and as he calmly and professionally continues his call, you heavily pant with your tongue lolling out, drool dripping from your mouth as you grind against his strong muscles like a bitch in heat, smearing your arousal everywhere until you’re almost sliding back and forth against the taut surface. And as he clenches his muscles and digs his leg further up into you, your body convulses and he barely has time to end the call before you loudly moan as you ride out your orgasm. He whispers filthy praises into your ear about what a good slut you are, what a desperate pet you are, what a mess you’ve made all over master’s leg, but when you finally exhaustedly slump onto his chest, he peppers butterfly kisses all over your face and holds you for a few minutes before carrying you to the bathroom and washing both of you off despite your protests that you still want to play more. 

He at least has the decency to apologetically kiss you for ending things so abruptly as he throws on slacks and a button-up before rushing off to work to take care of the emergency he had just been on a call about despite the fact that it’s a weekend, but you can’t help the growing insecurity that begins to eat at you as you spend the rest of that Saturday alone. Were you not as attractive as you used to be? Was Kuroo getting tired of you? Why does it feel like you’re trying so hard to get his attention? Does touching you feel like just a husbandly duty for him now? Thought after crippling thought sears through you and you have to hold back the tears that threaten to spill when Kuroo returns late that night and, thinking you’re already asleep, turns on his side with his back facing towards you and instantly falls asleep.        

You muster what little resolve you have left with the last few scraps of your self-confidence for a final attempt. Raking through your mind for memories of what would hopefully bring some passion back between the two of you, you perk up as your eyes scan a black box crammed underneath the bed. Kuroo hates it when you masturbate, when you touch yourself, when you make yourself cum without him being physically present or at least on a call with you to hear all the pretty sounds you make. Surely this would be enough to finally have him fuck you senseless like he always used to. But when you purposefully time everything so that Kuroo enters your bedroom and finds you stuffed full with your favorite dildo, a wand vibrator pressed against your clit, and your back arched as broken cries fill the room, he just gives you a tired smile and sits on the edge of the bed before helping you by thrusting the dildo in and out of your gushing cunt. And it feels so good, but when you see how dull and lifeless Kuroo’s sleep deprived eyes look despite the fact that you’re laid out in an erotic display of lust, you can’t stop the sobs you let out as you climax. 

Thinking you’re just crying from the overwhelming pleasure and too tired to dig further into it, Kuroo absentmindedly tosses the toys to the side and cradles you in his arms as he falls asleep, finding comfort in your familiar scent and figure, ignorant of the way your body continues to tremble as you cry yourself to sleep. And as you try to keep your sobs and sniffles as quiet as possible, you decide to abort this mission, deeming it a complete and utter failure and you struggle to fall asleep that night as self-deprecating thoughts claw at your insides. Of course Kuroo didn’t find you sexy anymore. Your body has changed a lot since your younger days. You should be grateful that you still have a loving husband, a husband who works tirelessly to help provide for the two of you, a husband who always takes care of you, a loyal and devoted husband. And despite the longing pang for something more, something primal, for your base desires to be filled, you tentatively turn in Kuroo’s arms until you're face to face and you nuzzle into his toned chest and finally find peace in the rhythmic rise and fall of his sleeping figure. 

Life goes on normally after that. At least for Kuroo. He's too distracted and exhausted to notice the way your smiles are a little more forced, the way you're more hesitant about touching him, the way you wear more clothes to cover your body as self-consciousness plagues your mind. So it's just business as usual for him to excitedly tell you about the Japan Volleyball Association's annual summer beach party, but he blinks in confusion when you don't return his enthusiasm, mumbling a feeble excuse about not having a swimsuit for the occasion. Brows furrowed, he digs through the drawers of your wardrobe and triumphantly holds up a black bikini set you still have, waving aside your worries that it won't fit and that it won't look good on you anymore and that's how you find yourself a few weeks later, exiting Kuroo's car and walking side by side with him in said bikini, feeling like an ugly troll next to your stunning husband whose lean and toned muscles are on full display with him just sporting a red pair of swim trunks. 

But your insecurities are pushed aside as a loud "hey, hey, hey" echoes even over the sound of the waves crashing on the beach and you can't help but grin as Bokuto runs over slapping Kuroo hard enough on the back to leave a red mark before picking you up and spinning you around as he hugs you. "Alright, that's enough, stop manhandling my wife, you big dumb owl!" Kuroo pretends to grumble at the two of you, but you can tell by the amused glint in his eyes as Bokuto finally lets you go and the reassuring hand he places on your lower back as the three of you mingle with everyone else that he doesn't really mind. But as soon as you reach the thickest part of the crowd, Kuroo quickly kisses your forehead before running off to network with some players and coworkers, leaving you alone with Bokuto. 

The two of you have fun. Bokuto has always been the life of the party and you laugh the hardest you've laughed in a long time. But many drinks later and unable to keep up with his crazy stamina, you excuse yourself and find a quiet corner, drinking a glass of cold water to cool down and sober up a bit. It's been hours and you still haven't seen Kuroo since he separated from you and you're so focused scanning the venue for him that you don't notice the person drawing near you until you feel movement right next to you. Surprised you turn around and are met with a vaguely familiar face. Blond dyed hair. An ever present smirk. You don't realize how long you've been staring, trying to remember where you recognize him from, until he snorts and waves a hand in your face. "I know I'm good looking, but don't you think it's a little rude to just stare at me silently?" 

You try to stutter out an apology as you finally come back to your senses, but he laughs it off and introduces himself. Atsumu. Yes, now you recognize him. Bokuto's teammate. You've seen tons of pictures of him on Bokuto's social media accounts. He's a little rough around the edges and you can feel your face heat up as he blatantly looks you up and down, eyes lingering a bit too long on the swell of your breasts, but you can feel your confidence growing, feeling truly desired for the first time in months. What's the harm in a little flirting? 

The two of you banter back and forth and maybe it's the heat of the sun mixed with the alcohol still running through your veins, but you don't notice the way Atsumu inches closer to you until your thighs are pressed tightly against each other or the way he rests one arm behind you, slyly pressing it against your upper back. And you definitely don't notice how he suddenly swoops in to crash his lips against yours and you move to shove him away from you only to be interrupted by a flurry of motions and you stare in shock at Atsumu sprawled out on the ground and your husband furiously glaring down at him, fists clenched so hard his knuckles are turning white. 

You react just in time to lunge at Kuroo and you tightly wrap your arms around his tense figure as he takes a step towards the blonde setter, holding him still as realization finally dawns on Atsumu when he spots your matching wedding bands and he scampers off with a rushed apology. But even when he’s long gone and nowhere in sight, you still clutch your husband, not letting go until you feel his muscles relax. You let him shake you off as he turns around to tower over you and you whimper at the fire burning in his eyes, hazel eyes almost glowing as they pin you down. You’re thankful for the loud music and lively atmosphere, ensuring no one’s paying any attention to the two of you as he tightly grips your chin and forces you to maintain eye contact. 

“Someone’s been a naughty kitten. I leave you alone for a few hours and you let some other man just place their dirty paws all over you? Let them taste your pretty little mouth? If I hadn’t stopped him, would you have let him fuck your tight cunt too? Mark you up inside and out?” 

You hate the way you grow wet at his words, trembling when Kuroo notices your growing arousal and narrows his eyes in disdain. But it’s the brief flicker of hurt in his eyes that finally has you digging your hands into his waist as denial and reassurances come pouring out of your mouth. 

“Tetsurou, I had no idea he was going to kiss me. It happened so fast. I’m so sorry. Of course I would have stopped him if you hadn’t stepped in! I love you. I only want you.” 

You stare intently into his eyes, trying to portray all your love for him through your gaze and you sigh in relief when his eyes soften at your words, but your breath catches in your throat when his eyes sharpen into a familiar gleam and a dark smirk curves onto his lips. He finally releases your chin and leans down until his hair brushes against the side of your face as he purrs into your ear. 

“Prove it to me.” 

Kuroo has a reputation to uphold and, not wanting to risk anyone seeing what’s about to happen, he grabs your hand and guides you through the dancing crowd, laughing and greeting a few tipsy faces he recognizes in passing, but not once does he stop leading you towards the exit and you’re quivering in anticipation by the time the two of you reach the parking lot and he roughly shoves you into the back of his car. The door has barely closed before he pulls your bottoms down, not even bothering to fully remove them as he also hastily shoves his boxers down just enough for his cock to swing out. And you almost moan at just the sight of what you’ve been lusting for all these months, a small part of you taking pride in the fact that he’s not as unaffected as he makes himself seem behind his angry facade as you unconsciously lick your lips at the sight of his already fully hard length. 

You attempt to sit up and move towards him, desperate for a taste of the pre-cum leaking out of his tip, but you yelp when you’re shoved back down by a hand on your chest and you whine, only for that to quickly turn into a wail as Kuroo slams two of his fingers inside of your throbbing cunt. He growls as he rapidly pistons his digits in and out of you and you should be embarrassed by the way your cries of ecstasy and the sound of your squelching wet pussy fill the car, but you can’t bring yourself to feel any shame as you lose yourself to the delirious pleasure of your husband’s long fingers filling you, stretching you, always sure to rub against that spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars. But when your hand instinctively reaches down to rub your clit, you’re startled back to reality when it’s slapped away and his fingers are yanked out of you. 

He sneers down at you, a wicked smile twisting his face as he shoves his drenched fingers into your mouth and you obediently suck, making sure to clean every remaining drop of yourself that coats his skin. Satisfied, he finally removes his hand from your mouth and he quirks an eyebrow in amusement as you beg and plead for him to fuck you.

“Tetsurou, please. I need your cock inside of me. Please, I want it so badly. Please fuck me. Please please please. I miss it so much.” 

He mockingly coos down at you as desperate tears well in the corner of your eyes. “Aww is my little kitten crying for my cock? You’re such a fucking whore. You want my big fat cock inside of you so badly that you’d cry and beg for it like a desperate slut? You sure it’s my cock that you miss? I think you’d be happy with any cock fucking you. You’d let anyone stuff you full and moan like a whore, wouldn’t you?” 

And the tears finally fall as you sob and shake your head rapidly. “Only you, Tetsurou. Always only you. Please please please.” You’re still crying and incoherently babbling as he slams his entire shaft inside of you in one swift motion and Kuroo darkly smiles at the way your crying instantly turns to wanton moans at the sudden intrusion. But it’s been far too long since either of you have done this and both of you are so worked up that he knows he doesn’t have much time before you both reach your ends. And sure enough after just a few strokes he can feel your body begin to tighten and he grits his teeth at the sight of your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your head shaking back and forth, and your mouth wide open. But even as dazed as you are, when you feel the way your husband’s thrusts become uneven, you try to voice as much reason as you possibly can, fully aware of your husband’s tendency to paint your body with his fluids. 

“Tetsu-Tetsurou AH- Feels so good. Hngh D-don’t cum on me. Don’t have anything to- AHHH clean it up with and- OH we need to go back to the party.”

Kuroo grunts in displeasure at your words, but he knows you’re right and as much as he loves to see you covered in thick spurts of white, the thought of anyone else seeing that incites rage in him. You get ready for him to pull out and cum down your throat like you always do when you mess around in similarly inconvenient places, ready to swallow down any evidence of your sinful deeds, but you scream when his thrusts get even harder and faster. 

"Guess I'll just have to cum inside you."

And those words are the final shove you need to fall over the peak and Kuroo follows shortly after you as your pussy walls clench and milk his cock. He stays buried inside of you for a few more moments, wanting your tight walls to soak up as much of him as possible, but when he slides out of you, he quickly pulls your bottoms up, not letting a single drop escape, and you whimper as he purposefully tugs them up just a tad too tightly, teasingly wedging the fabric between your folds before finally having some mercy and letting you rearrange them. He opens the car door and steps out first, offering a hand down towards you and you grab it, gingerly standing up only to be pulled swiftly towards him and you stumble into his chest. But before you can fully find your balance, a large hand tugs your hair until you’re forced to stare up into cat-like eyes. 

“I want you to keep my cum inside of you for the rest of the party. I’m not anywhere near done with your punishment. I’ll be checking at home tonight to see if your pretty little pussy is still painted white.”       

The rest of the party is torturous. Kuroo doesn't let you step even a foot away from him as he continues mingling with the crowd and in any other scenario you'd love the attention he showers you with as he affectionately introduces you to countless faces, but not today. Not with your pussy desperately clenching in order not to spill a single drop of the white liquid coating your insides. Not with your touch starved body only yearning for more after getting a taste of what you've wanted all these months. And Kuroo only makes things worse with his subtle teasing. 

You know better than to think any of his touches are accidental or innocent and your body is so in tune with his that it reacts to every single bit of contact he dishes out. His arm grazes over your nipples as he reaches over to grab a drink. He leads you with a hand that just happens to slip from your lower back and land squarely on your ass. He wipes your mouth for you, claiming you have a piece of food on the corner of your mouth, but that doesn't really explain why his fingers briefly slip past your lips. But all hell breaks loose when he reapplies your sunscreen for you and his hands blatantly slip under your bikini set, teasingly close to where you want him most, but always just missing your clit and nipples and when he reaches your neck, a moan escapes you at the feeling of his hand subtly wrapping and tightening around your throat. 

"Tetsurou, stop teasing me! Can we go home? Please take me home. I need you inside of me again. I want you to ruin me." 

Kuroo's the one who's turned you into a needy slutty mess, but it's his turn to feel flushed at the sight of you lewdly begging him to do whatever he wants to you in broad daylight, in front of hundreds of people and finally losing his self-control, he brusquely grabs your hand and once again the two of you are leaving, but this time for good. The car ride is silent, the atmosphere thick and tense between the two of you as you clench your thighs together and Kuroo tries to ignore the growing bulge in his shorts. It's silent as both of you enter your apartment and Kuroo seats himself on your couch. But you break once you close and lock the front door and Kuroo impassively stares at you as you drop to your knees in front of him and beg him to fuck you again. You know you're barely making any sense, fueled only by your cock hungry thoughts, but you pause when Kuroo raises a hand to silence you. 

"Let's see if you were able to follow the one rule I gave you today, kitten." 

Eagerly you nod your head and you raise yourself on your knees, spreading your thighs apart before pulling your bikini bottom to the side and you think you could cum right there and then just from the way Kuroo unabashedly stares at the white trail dripping down your inner thigh as he pushes down his shorts enough to languidly stroke his cock. 

"Good girl. Did you like being my little cum bucket today? Did you like being filled by me? Bet if it were possible, you'd always want your little cunny to be drenched in my cum, right? Come sit on master's lap." 

Kuroo chuckles at the way you clumsily stumble in your haste to reach him as you blather affirmation after affirmation in response to his questions and he lowers his head to affectionately kiss you, lightly nipping your lower lip before he pulls back. He moves one hand to his cock to angle it as his other hand grabs your waist and urges you to move, but you hardly need any encouragement and you both groan as you sink down on his length until you're completely bottomed out and sitting in his lap once again. Immediately you try to bounce, but you whine when strong hands hold you still and you can feel tears of frustration forming as you pout at your husband's smirk. But any annoyance is forgotten when his hands fondle and pinch your nipples through the fabric of your top. 

"Look at you. I've barely done anything and you're already so worked up. Stop moving! Just sit there and take what I give you." You yelp when he roughly pinches your nipples and you cease your attempts to ride him, but you can't help the way your hips roll and grind as he continues. 

"Your nipples are already so hard, kitten. Look how obvious they are even beneath your swimsuit. Were they like this all day? Is that why Atsumu couldn't take his eyes off you? You think every player there saw how slutty your nipples are? Realized what a horny desperate whore you are? I bet they all wanted to get a taste." 

You wail when Kuroo shoves the fabric aside and latches a mouth onto one of your sensitive nubs, while experly flicking and rolling the other between his fingers. He alternates between the two sides and your frazzled mind can barely keep up with his actions as he switches up the motions of his fingers and mouth. He pulls off briefly and sharply tugs at your nipples. "Think you can cum just from your nipples?" You try to deny it, pleading for him to at least rub your clit, but your protests are ignored and you gasp when he dives back down and harshly sucks at one of your puffy nubs. Kuroo knows your body even better than you do and he continues to stimulate your nipples even when you topple over into an orgasm that takes you by surprise and you tightly clench around his cock as your back arches and only when you weakly paw at him to stop does he release your nipple with a lewd pop. 

You playfully smack him when he teases you about what a slut you must be to be able to get off from just your nipples and you hide your face in his neck as he shamelessly thinks out loud about all the nipple clamps, suctions, and vibrators he can use on you to train you even more. But you raise your head in alarm when you feel yourself being repositioned, Kuroo's erect cock still inside of you as he lays you on your back and hovers over you. 

"Tetsurou, st-stop NGH TOO SOON!"

"What did you say, kitten? Sorry, it's hard to understand you when you're moaning like a whore. Weren't you begging for this all day? Shouldn't you be thanking me?"

Kuroo thrusts sharply into you with every word and you can't think of anything other than how well he fills you, how perfectly he fits inside the cunt he's molded and shaped for himself after years of using it, how amazing the drag of his cock against your insides is. You babble thank you, thank you, thank you mindlessly over and over again, incapable of doing anything else as your breasts bounce and your body writhes underneath him. And when his hips finally stutter and he furiously rubs your clit as he adds to the mess inside of you, you break apart once again, your mind going blank as you feel the warmth of his cum sloshing inside of you.

But exhaustion slams into you as you come down from your climax, exhaustion from your third orgasm, exhaustion from being teased all day and all the barriers you’d put up finally come crashing down and Kuroo stares in horror as you sob, nothing like the pleasure filled sobs he usually wrings out of you. No, these are heartbreaking anguished cries for help and he immediately answers the call by tightly clutching you to his chest, your lower bodies still connected as he murmurs words of praise and love into your ear. 

“Hey, what’s wrong, sweetheart? I love you. You know that, right? I love you more than anything or anyone else in this entire world. I’m so lucky to be your husband. You’re so good to me, so loving, so supportive, so loyal, so beautiful.” 

The last word catches your attention and with a sniffle you hesitantly remove your head from his torso and look at him through watery lashes. 

“You think I’m beautiful?” 

Kuroo flounders for a second, disbelief choking the words in his throat, unable to understand how you could think otherwise. But when he sees the insecurity and doubt flooding your eyes he gently cradles your face in his calloused hands. 

“Of course I do. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, inside and out.” 

Your heart flutters at the sincerity you see in his eyes and that’s all it takes for you to break down in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as you tuck your head under his chin, and he silently listens as you reveal all the internal suffering you’d put yourself through over the past months as you let your anxiety and worry mix with your doubts and insecurities, letting them fester and ferment into a self-destructive time bomb. A slow-moving process he’d been too daft to notice, that you’d been too scared to talk to him about for his sake, not wanting to be a bother or another item he needed to check off his to-do list. And while you continue shyly speaking, tears stream down Kuroo’s face and his heart clenches at the thought of how long you’d quietly suffered, putting on a happy facade for him, taking care of his every want and need during the few hours of the week he was home and awake. 

Surprised to feel liquid drops plop down on your face, you quirk your head upwards and panic when you see your husband’s teary eyes and the two of you become a blubbering mess as you both try to wipe each other’s tears and soothe each other. It’s so silly to see two adults trying to out comfort each other that you accidentally snort at the strange image the two of you must make and there’s a slight pause, but then your laughter is joined by Kuroo’s trademark cackle and before you know it, the two of you are wrapped in each other’s arms, feeling the rumble of each other’s laughter through your connected bodies. 

Yes, there’ll be serious conversations later about being more open and transparent with each other when something’s troubling either one of you and discussions on how you can both work on your communication. You’ll jokingly complain that Kuroo is hovering over you too much for weeks after this breakdown as he practically scrutinizes you with those perceptive eyes of his, always making sure you’re really fine. And he’ll never give you any more opportunities to doubt how much he loves every part of you when you’re screaming his name on every surface of your home. But for now, feeling infinitely lighter with all your burdens finally shoved off your shoulders with the help of your husband, you’re content to close your eyes and relish in the warmth of the lean body pressed against you.     

[shig-a-shig-ah]

LAYING CLAIM

» pairing: dabi x fem!reader

» cw: dubcon, revoked consent, noncon (we’re going on a journey, okay?), rimming, anal fingering, anal sex, crying, gratuitously fanon characterization. 18+, minors DNI.

» a/n: Started this months and months ago, and since I’m finally getting around to wrapping some WIPs, I guess you can have it now. Thanks @thebiggergroove​ for beta-reading!

» wc: 5.3k

» ao3 mirror

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The thing about Dabi is he's not usually a possessive guy. Fucking is fucking, as far as he's concerned—it doesn't really matter who is doing it with whom as long as everyone is getting off on it. But goddamn if there isn't something about you that makes him want to make you his.

And he's gotten that, more or less. It took some sweet talking and cajoling, and a few late nights where he made you come until you couldn't see straight, but you agreed not to go sleeping with anyone else. Sure, you've made him promise the same, but that's fine. Not that he's going to actually stop, of course, but he goes out on recruiting missions alone and he figures what you don't know won't hurt you.

That's all enough to satisfy him, at least for a little while. But then a few weeks pass and there it is again: that stupid jealousy and all those unbidden thoughts about the people you were with before him. People he knows. You never talk in too much detail about your past hookups, but he's not stupid, is all too aware that he's not the first one in this ragged band of miscreants that you've crawled into bed with. You've fucked Jin, and Shigaraki, and probably even Magne, god rest her soul—Dabi hadn't missed the way the two of you had huddled up giggling in the corner of the old bar one night, disappearing together unusually early, making those bedroom eyes at each other. And in theory that's fine. Nothing wrong with two girls having fun together, after all. Hell, bi chicks are hot and Dabi wouldn't mind taking advantage of that someday.

But first he needs to find a way to get the image of you with your legs spread for half the League out of his goddamn head.

If he's being honest, it's Shigaraki who bothers him the most. Magne is dead. Jin is a decent dude and, Dabi has to imagine, tame as a kitten in the sack. But Shigaraki, well...Dabi can tell just by looking at the guy that he's a freak, and the idea of you riding Shigaraki's dry, crusty dick, of letting him do who-knows-what filthy shit to you? It just gets to him.

And then Toga has to suggest that stupid game and go putting ideas in his head.

You're all sitting around the crumbling office space that passes for a hideout, drinking to celebrate the League's first successful double-amputation (because fuck that germophobic, transphobic prick), and blondie is just begging to play a drinking game. Normally Dabi doesn't go for that shit—why anyone needs an excuse to get wasted is beyond him—but he's in a good mood, and you make that adorable pouty face as you tell him that you played in college, that it's really fun, and somehow he finds himself sitting in a circle on the dusty floor with the rest of you losers playing 'I haven't' or whatever the fuck it's called.

It's all bland shit to start. Toga's never driven a car, Shigaraki's never gone to school. But, after you've made your way around the circle once, everyone seems to be loosening up and Spinner takes one for the team by getting to the interesting shit and admitting he's never slept with a girl. It spurs a moment of awkward silence made all the worse by his red face and obvious self-consciousness about being a virgin, but then Compress stage-whispers "Neither have I," before winking salaciously at the blushing lizard and taking a dramatic pull from his beer bottle. It's enough to lighten the mood.

After that, Dabi's forced to admit it's a decent game. There's not much he hasn't done sexually or criminally, and since those are the two topics everyone focuses on, he finds himself getting hammered faster than usual. It's a good thing too—his buzz makes it easier to ignore the look you and Shigaraki exchange when Jin announces that he's never tried watersports, easier to pretend his gut isn't twisting at the knowing smirk on your leader's face as he raises his beer bottle to drink and you follow suit.

That particular moment makes it all the more surprising when, on your next turn, you hide an embarrassed face behind your hand and announce that you've never taken it in the ass.

Dabi can't stop thinking about it the rest of the night. Obsessing over it, and the idea of being your first, your only, even if only in some less than conventional way. The thing is, it's downright tame in comparison to a lot of what you two get up to, so barely even kinky that it's almost impossible to believe you've never tried it. Sure, you've never done it together, but he'd just figured neither of you were all that into it, since it hadn't come up when you were doing lewd shit to each other.

That kind of sex is fine from his perspective, but only fine. He doesn't actively seek it out because in his mind nothing beats the feel of being balls-deep in a warm pussy, but that doesn't mean he hasn't done it. He's hooked up with plenty of girls that were into it and has always been happy to oblige; hell, he's even taken it more than once, on account of the fact that when it comes to the bedroom he's willing to try anything twice.

But doing it with you? Well, that thought sticks. The two of you finally go to bed and Dabi's so turned on by the idea of your virgin ass that he can't help testing the waters, prodding teasingly at that tight hole with one spit-slicked finger until you're squirming away and whining. He doesn't manage to convince you right then, but he makes those puppy dog eyes that are far more effective than they have any right to be, and you agree to give it a go in the future.

"Not here," you specify, the words fuzzy on your drunken tongue. "Someplace nicer, with a real bed." You already have your reservations, and you certainly don't relish the idea of undertaking that particular venture now, on a worn mattress in this falling apart building, with its paper-thin walls and complete lack of hot water. Between your booze-fueled haze and the seeming interminability of the League's poverty, you mostly forget about that casual promise by the following morning.

But Dabi doesn't. He picks up a small bottle of lube the next day and carries it around in his pocket shamelessly, a little reminder that he has something to look forward to besides roasting that prick Endeavor, and he strokes himself off to the idea more than he's proud to admit as he waits for the League to move on to better things. He can be patient, when he needs to be.

That patience takes a toll though, and the minute the League settles into their new digs in Re-Destro's sprawling villa, where there's actually privacy and clean, comfortable beds, Dabi shows up at your door with a cheshire grin and every intention of finally getting something from you that's just for him.

You grimace when you remember that promise, try briefly to talk him out of it even, but he isn't so easily dissuaded. It's made all the harder by the fact that you can't give him a specific reason why you've never tried it, beyond that it seems uncomfortable and you hadn't particularly enjoyed the couple instances when you'd allowed someone to slip a finger or two in there.

"C'mon, baby girl," Dabi coos, his breath hot in your ear as he pins you to the wall, working two unnaturally warm fingers into your cunt. "I'll make sure it's good for you. Be gentle, get you nice and warmed up first, all that sweet shit."

It really is unfair how persuasive he can be when he fixes those pleading turquoise eyes on you. The way the pads of his fingers are curling just right deep inside isn't helping either, and he teases you like that until you give in to his cajoling, though you still insist on waiting a couple nights so that you can do your research and make sure you're entirely prepared. Dabi demonstrates his appreciation by burying his face in your cunt and not surfacing for air until you've come three times and are begging for a break.

When the night finally arrives, Dabi's feeling positively giddy. He slips into your bedroom with a bottle of wine and a couple glasses he's brought, a little something to help you relax because he's a gentleman when he wants to be. It should be good booze too—he lifted it from Re-Destro's private stash, and he's certain baldy doesn't drink anything that costs less than ¥30,000. Of course, Re-Destro doesn't love sharing either, but the uptight prick is too scared of Shigaraki to complain about anything the League does. They all take advantage of that, because they can and because it's fun to watch him bite his tongue when they piss him off.

You don't make it easy for Dabi to focus on pouring the drinks though, not when you're reclining in that armchair by the window, freshly showered and fidgeting nervously. He was half-erect before he got here from just thinking about what he was going to do to you, and the sight of you acting like you're some blushing virgin spurs him all the way to rock-hard. By the time your glasses are close to empty, he's straining uncomfortably in his pants, and can't fight back his impatience any longer.

"What do you think, doll?" he murmurs, setting his glass to the side and standing up, shrugging his jacket off before leaning down to ghost his lips over your neck. "You ready to move this to the bed?"

The way you chew at your lower lip anxiously before nodding makes his dick throb.

You empty your glass with one final, large swallow, your heart racing as you rise. You know it's stupid—you and Dabi have fucked countless times and a lot of it hasn't exactly been vanilla—but it's been a long time since you've actually tried anything new. His obvious excitement doesn't help either, paradoxically; it leaves you fretting about what will happen if you're somehow bad at this, or if you can't take it and have to stop. You've never really worried about disappointing him before, but now the thought weighs acutely on your mind.

It's with halting steps that you approach the bed and then, when you can't realistically drag your feet any longer, you finally tug the nightgown you're wearing off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor to reveal what's underneath.

"Damn, baby girl," Dabi breathes, looking you up and down. You'd figured that since it was a special occasion you might as well dress up, donning a strappy bra and panties. They're little more than elaborate, crisscrossing pieces of lace, all white since he'd seemed so fixated on this pseudo-innocent, first-time act. His reaction doesn't disappoint, eyes lighting up as he stares at you hungrily.

You let yourself fall back on the bed, nestling against the many pillows. The look on his face has your stomach fluttering, and the wine has helped you to relax a bit despite your nerves, a pleasant warmth spreading throughout your body. It's joined by a different kind of heat when you feel the mattress dip beneath Dabi's weight as he positions himself over you, one knee resting between your thighs, just barely brushing against your center, a hint of what's to come.

"You look so good I could just eat you up," Dabi whispers hotly against your ear before tracing his lips over your jaw. Even though he wants to take his time, let himself savor this, it's taking every ounce of patience he has to keep the promise he made to get you worked up and ready for him, to not to tear those pretty bits of satin and lace off and have his way with you right then.

You whine eagerly when his mouth slants hungrily over yours, savoring the feel of those mismatched lips, the way the rough skin of the bottom one contrasts so deliciously with the top. Hot hands run over your sides as the kiss deepens, your tongues tangling together, and you moan against him.

When you finally break for air, Dabi moves his lips to your throat, his tongue lapping at your pulse before he sinks his teeth into you. He loves to mark you up, loves making sure everyone can see that you're indisputably his, and it's even hotter now that he knows he's going to fuck you in a way no one else has. You're shivering beneath him as he works, your hand tugging insistently at his hair, and Dabi lets out a low, throaty growl.

"Guess I'm not the only one who's eager, huh?"

Your hips tilt in response, pressing needily into his firm thigh, and Dabi can feel the skin on his cheeks straining against his staples as he grins. He traces one hand up over your ribs, cupping at your supple breasts, teasing your hardening nipple through the flimsy fabric of your bra. Those deft fingers work under the seam of your lingerie as he shifts his weight, increasing the pressure against your center while he pinches and tugs at the peaks of your breasts until you're whimpering, spreading slick along his leg even through your thin panties.

Dabi pulls away abruptly, rolling onto his back and tugging at you to change positions, shaking his head when you move to mount his hips.

"Come here, baby girl," he says, his tongue tracing over his bottom lip. "Like I said, I wanna eat you up."

The promise in those words sends a bolt of heat straight through your core as he guides you to straddle his face, hot breath tickling your inner thighs. One calloused thumb brushes your clit lightly through your underwear, blue eyes sparkling when your breath hitches at that soft touch. When he pulls that useless fabric to the side and runs his tongue over your already-damp slit, you shudder.

Dabi lets out a pleased groan at your reaction and gets to work more earnestly, lapping at your sensitive nub, licking and sucking until you're moaning and only then shifting a little so that he can lap at your insides, that same rough thumb replacing the pressure of his tongue on your clit. It strokes firm circles as he buries that hot, wet muscle inside you, the metal barbell there teasing your inner walls as you grind involuntarily against it. You can't help but whine when he withdraws it, but that disappointment is quickly replaced by you startling as that same wet muscle extends further back to tease at your puckered entrance.

"A-ah, Dabi, wait," you protest, your face heating up self-consciously almost at once.

Dabi pauses, shifting just enough to keep his reply from being muffled as one warm hand runs reassuringly up your thigh. "I don't think I can help myself, doll," he says, his slick-coated lips splitting into a wide grin, "you just taste too good."

That heat in your face worsens as he dives back in, not even waiting for you to respond before he's flexing his tongue to poke at that tight ring of muscle. You still try to squirm away, feeling unprepared for this. You hadn't even considered it among the possible activities were volunteering to participate in, but Dabi is holding you firmly in place with the hand not working at your clit, and when another whine of protest escapes you, it's weaker than the first. The foreign sensation of his tongue against your neglected hole has you hyperaware of the press of his thumb at your apex, and you can feel tension building in your core even as you writhe in embarrassment.

It's as though he knows, too, and you suppose maybe he does; after all, he's the one who's done this before. He thrusts his tongue a little deeper, rolling your clit between two hot fingers with enough pressure to cut off any further protests. A long moan is the only sound you can muster as you spill over the edge, your thighs clenching around his head and your hips jerking shakily as you ride out your climax with his tongue still buried obscenely in your rear.

Dabi's face is covered in your juices by the time he slides from between your thighs, and he wipes it away carelessly with one arm as he repositions you again, pinning you on your back and wasting no time peeling away your now-soaked panties. He grins at the sight of your glistening folds and swollen clit before stripping off most of his own clothes, kicking them unceremoniously to the side and relaxing between your legs, kissing at your still-trembling thighs.

He teases at your sensitive cunt with his fingers, coating them in your juices as you whimper. "Ready for a little more?" he asks, and you nod despite the fact that your cheeks are still burning from before and your stomach is knotting with nerves.

"Just...go slow, okay?"

"Of course, baby girl," he promises, "I told you I'd take good care of you." With that, he starts to work you open, dipping one finger into your tight hole just until he reaches the first knuckle, working it in and out slowly. His other hand toys at your clit, stroking and rolling that puffy nub again, making you mewl.

Dabi waits until you're relaxed before trying any more, pulling away from you just long enough to dig the lube from the pocket of his discarded pants, coating his fingers with it. He works that lone finger deeper this time, in and out until it's buried to the last knuckle.

The sensation is strange, but not entirely unpleasant; even if you think you'd rather have that finger curling in your cunt, the slight stretch is still adding to the faint throb already growing inside you, the one that worsens when his thumb returns to your apex.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Dabi growls when one well-placed stroke of his thumb has you clenching lightly around his finger. He ruts his hips against the sheets, trying vainly to find some relief for his aching member, but it's not enough—he needs to feel you, needs the vice-like grip clutching his fingers to be wrapped around his cock, and he needs it soon.

You feel him withdraw to add more lube, and then he's fingering you again, adding another digit to stretch you wider. It comes with a stab of discomfort when he forces his way past the second knuckle, and you reflexively try to pull back. "Dabi, that's too much."

He abandons his soothing attentions to your clit, one warm palm pressing you tight against the mattress to keep you in place, stroking soothingly at your hip. His breath tickles over your inner thigh as he chuckles softly. "If you can't take this, how are you ever gonna take me, hmm?" he says teasingly. "You're doing great, baby, just relax."

You will yourself to unclench, trying to picture Dabi's satisfied face once you're taking him, that adoring look he sometimes gives you, the one that you relish. Your efforts are only marginally effective, but Dabi keeps pushing deeper, fucking you slowly but insistently with those fingers, and when you don't complain again, his thumb returns to caressing your sex.

"That's a good girl." Dabi picks up the pace, cursing under his breath. "You're doing so good."

You're wriggling against his hand now, trying to increase the friction at your center, not quite minding the foreign sensation of his fingers and the uncanny fullness they bring so much now that there's heat thrumming in your core. "Y-yeah, like that," you pant encouragingly, and Dabi grins.

"That doing it for you?" he purrs. "Think you can take more?"

You start to shake your head—the stretch now feels like all you can handle—but Dabi's already adding a third slick finger, shoving it in with less restraint than before. You feel more than discomfort this time when three knuckles breach your asshole, and it quickly dampens the arousal that had been steadily building. "Dabi, slow down," you gasp.

"Aw, are you sure you can't handle it?" His blue eyes meet yours, pupils blown wide with arousal as he looks you over with the hungry gaze. "'Cause if I'm being honest, it feels like you're trying to suck me in. Like this greedy little hole wants to get fucked."

The huskiness of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, even as another whine of discomfort escapes you. For just a second his expression darkens slightly, but then he's slowing his movements, twisting his fingers instead of thrusting them in and out.

"Better?" he asks, and you think you catch an edge of impatience in his voice.

It is better though, a little at least, enough that you can focus on the way your cunt flutters every time his thumb strokes over your clit. So you just nod; it's not like this wasn't bound to be a little unpleasant at points, right?

Dabi's smile stretches wider, his thumb working faster. A mewl slips from between your lips and Dabi takes that as encouragement, his fingers resuming their persistent thrusts. It's still uncomfortable, though not quite as bad as when he started, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to bite back your complaints. You let your eyes fall closed instead, trying to focus on his attentions to your hooded nub, on the heat that's pooling in your lower belly. You're inching towards another release, and you let a hand lift to your breast, tweaking at the pebbled flesh of one nipple to help yourself along.

"D-dabi, I'm close," you stammer, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Yeah?" His movements speed up, his voice breathy and excited. "Do it, baby girl. Come for me and then I'm gonna fuck this tight little ass of yours."

You swallow hard, trying not to dwell on those words for now—you can tell you've loosened up more, tolerating the jab of his fingers, but his cock is substantially larger than those, all too intimidating. Thankfully, it's not hard to remain distracted, to focus only on your approaching peak.

Dabi can feel that orgasm rip through you when it hits, your asshole clenching around his fingers as you keen, and it's then that he reaches the limits of his patience. He needs you now, needs the thrill of burying himself in your tight ass and claiming you for his own, of reaching his own release deep inside and then watching his seed spill out afterwards. What a satisfying sight that will be.

He scrambles up from between your legs to catch your lips with his, fumbling his boxers off as his tongue invades your mouth. When he pulls away, his eyes are bright, needy. "Ready for me?" he asks.

You're not, not really, but you can see the fervor in his eyes, hear the urgency in his voice, and you convince yourself that he won't be able to work you open much more with his fingers no matter what. Your agreement doesn't matter anyway—he's already rolling you onto your side and slotting his chest against your back, his straining erection poking at the cleft between your thighs.

"Like this?" you ask, surprised by the choice of position.

"Just like this," he pants in your ear. His teeth nibble at your lobe as he slicks his cock generously with lube. "Want you spooned against me so I can see those cute faces you make, feel you squirming when you take me."

And fuck, when he slips one hand back down to finger your asshole one last time, it doesn't disappoint—your body ripples against him when that invasion catches you off guard, and he can see the way your lips part obscenely as you gasp at his touch. His fingers abandon your tight hole almost as quickly as they'd entered, and then Dabi is aligning himself with your entrance, using the last of his restraint not to slam his hips forward and bury himself inside with a single thrust.

You can feel the spongy head of his glans, and the slick coolness of the ring that adorns his tip, prodding at your rear. One of his arms worms its way under your side, his hand groping distractedly at your breasts as you tense in anticipation.

"Relax, baby girl," he murmurs, but he doesn't wait for you to even try. He's already slipping in, moving slowly until he encounters resistance an inch or so inside, and then pausing.

He has to struggle to keep his composure. Even like this, with not even the full head of his cock in your ass, his balls are tightening, just the thought of what he's doing nearly enough to send him over the brink. He waits until he's sure that won't happen and then starts moving, pushing insistently to work you open around his length with shallow thrusts.

"A-ah, Dabi, g-go easy," you stutter, already squirming. You can feel your body resisting the intrusion, so much larger than his fingers, and it aches slightly every time he tries to breach that inner ring.

"I am, baby, don't worry. I'll take care of you." His cheek is nuzzling against yours, his lips kissing and sucking wherever he can reach, but his motions don't change at all even as he murmurs so sweetly. He only slings one arm over your hips, toying lazily at your clit. That attention helps you relax, helps distract you a little, but it's not enough to prepare you for when he drives himself in further, finally surging past that taut band of muscle.

The invasion brings a sharp pain, one that has you crying out. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your body reflexively contorting to try and escape the cause of that hurt, but his arms tighten around you, holding you in place as he continues to work himself deeper with every thrust.

"Dabi, that hurts." Your words are sharper this time as each stroke sends another unpleasant throb through your overstretched hole, but his only response is to plunge the fingers rubbing at your clit into your dripping cunt.

"Shh, you're doing great." He curls his fingers, stroking against that spongy spot deep inside. It makes you writhe, but that does nothing to address the pain between your legs as he fucks you.

"Dabi, don't, that's not helping, I—"

"It's okay, baby girl, you're taking me so well," Dabi coos. You'll adjust, he knows you will—you're usually up for anything, of course you can take this. And fuck, there's no way he can stop now, not when it's even better than he'd imagined—hotter and softer, your pillowy walls enveloping his length every time he plunges into you, the exquisite tightness of your entrance massaging his shaft with each thrust.

"I'm not— I don't— I don't want to do this anymore." You can hear the desperate edge in your voice now. Your heart is racing and there's a cold sweat forming on your skin as tears of pain and confusion start to leak down your cheeks. "Dabi, stop."

"Shh, shh, you're fine. You—fuck—you feel so amazing. 'S never been this good with anyone else, fuck."

"I don't care, I don't want this." You can't understand what's happening, why he's not listening. You twist your head to look at him, pleading with your eyes, but he's barely even focusing on you. His blue eyes are glazed and half-lidded as his lips wander over your shoulders and your neck, all the while murmuring those useless reassurances against your skin. You're thrashing now, your feet scrambling for purchase on the sheets as you try frantically to pull away, but he keeps his tight grip on you, one of his legs hooking around your own to hold you in place. "Dabi, I said stop!"

He shushes you again, rutting into you harshly, and a choked sob escapes you when he bottoms out inside you, his hips flush against your backside as you struggle against him. You feel sick to your stomach, and it only worsens when he pulls out until nothing but his tip remains, then drives himself back in with one agonizingly rough thrust.

You keep begging, pleading, wracking your brain and trying every past safe word you can recall, but he only continues to pound into you, his breathing erratic as he pants in your ear. "It's okay, baby. You're taking my cock like such a good girl. You're—ngh—making me feel so good."

The ache between your legs is diminishing slightly as you adjust to his girth, your body entirely unconcerned with whether you want that or not. He's still fingering your sopping cunt too, his palm grinding against your oversensitive clit with each plunge of his long digits, the lewd squelching sound of those attentions mingling with the sharp slap of his hips against your ass as he fucks you.

"You like this?" he asks, but you know he's not really asking. "You like knowing I'm the only one? That I'm making you mine, just mine, just like how it should be?"

"Dabi, stop. Please stop." Your appeals are feeble now, far more for yourself than for him as you continue to utter them between quiet sobs. Dabi's somewhere far away, awash in the tight heat of your ass and the satisfaction of finally staking his claim on you, aware of your supplications but not hearing them, not really.

You slump, still sobbing, and let him take what he wants. His attentions to your cunt have a coil tightening in your gut, but when your climax hits it's perfunctory and mechanical, no real pleasure to be found even as your hips jerk and your holes spasm, a joyless whine passing from your lips.

No real pleasure for you, at least. But fuck, the feel of you squeezing around his cock as you come is what Dabi has been waiting for, your insides massaging his length as though desperate for him to decorate your walls with his cum. It's a gift he's glad to grant—he rocks his hips more urgently, keeping his thrusts shallow now so that he's sure to get it all deep inside.

"Fuck," he groans against your neck. "Gonna make me come, baby girl. That what you want? Want me to fill you up?" You shake your head, but his movements are already growing spurtive and erratic, his grunts louder and throatier, and then you can feel his cock jerking inside you, a hot rush of cum flooding your guts.

Dabi doesn't stop then, either, keeps fucking his seed into you until he's softening, not quite able to work himself in and out of your tight, abused hole any longer, and only then does he finally pull out, a dribble of cum leaking obscenely down your thigh.

You're sniffling, drawing shaky breaths, and you try to pull away the moment his arms relax around you. They only tighten again, his lips planting soft kisses along your temple.

"Shh," he murmurs. The sound of his shushing makes you want to scream. One hand lifts to wipe at the tears on your cheeks. "You were so good, baby girl, there's no need to cry. You were fucking incredible." He means it too, doesn't think he's ever come so hard in his life as he did now, making you his.

Dabi can't wait to do it again.

[officialscaramouche]

ayo feel like doing a gorou confession fic for me? pretty please with sprinkles on top (you know that fucking tiktok)

Ofc Pizzato anything for u my dear 🥰

Pairing: Gorou x gn!reader

Warnings: slight angst

Word count: 1,969

You heard a couple friendly knocks on your office door, eyes glancing to the clock to see it was a little past noon and you knew exactly who it was. “Come in,” you chime, putting down your pen and stretching upwards with a smile.

“Helloooooo!” You hear as the door swung open, Kazuha flaunting an envelope between his fingers. “Letter time!”

You sweep to your feet and give him grabby hands. “Give it to me!” He chuckles and places the thin paper into your hands. “Tell me who it is already,” you giggle as you rip it open and slide the letter out.

“No,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. “I keep my promises.”

You quirk and eyebrow before you fold open the letter. “Even if I bribe you with dango?”

Kazuha smiles. “Even if you bribe me with dango.”

You grunt and groan but it quickly stops when you unfold the letter, reading the contents.

Good afternoon, cupcake, it starts. You blush at the pet name. I hope your day is going as well as mine. I’ve just won the office lottery! I’m going to ask for more snacks in the break room. That way, everyone benefits too! Specifically though, I want more sakura mochi! The ones you made for us were delicious. Share your recipe? :3

I adore you, your secret admirer.

You squeeze the letter to your chest and squeal, your face warm from blushing and your heart pounding against your chest. “Oh, Kazuha, whoever this person is, I really wish they’d come up and confess!”

Kazuha tuts and wiggles his finger. “But then the mystery wouldn’t be there anymore.”

“Screw mystery!” You squealed, gazing down at the illegible and scratchy handwriting, the mysterious stains and fur all over the page. “I’m ready to hear these words in person.”

Just then there was a knock on your door and a quick turn of the knob, one of the top brass leaning against your door frame. “Good morning, Chatty Cathy’s,” sang a familiar voice and ear twitches.

You wave while Kazuha bows, hiding the letter behind your back. “Good morning, General Gorou.”

The tail behind his back wagged discreetly as the two men share a knowing glance. “Kazuha,” the general clears his throat. “May I speak with you?”

The samurai nods his head and gives you a little wave as he walks out the door. “Bye boys!” You sing, tucking the letter back into the envelope and putting it away.

The next day, as routine, a little past noon you heard three friendly knocks on your door. You excitedly put your pen down, closing your ledger and standing out of your chair and onto your feet. “Kazuha,” you grinned. “Come in!”

He pushed the door open with his back, lugging a big box with some plastic sticking out from the top. “I’m just a mule to you guys aren’t I?” He groaned, lifting the box up and onto your desk. “This is ridiculous.”

You stood on your tippy toes to try and peek inside the box without being obnoxious. “What is it?” You hum, getting more and more restless.

“Your letter, what else?” He kind of snapped, letting out a deep sigh and rolling his eyes. “I wish he’d confess too. That way I don’t have to carry these things.”

You pulled back the top of the box that was just out of your reach. “Here,” pushing your hands away, Kazuha tore the box apart to expose a giant basket full of goodies and flowers. “The letter.”

Kazuha snapped the taped-on letter from the plastic and handed it to you. Wasting no time at all, you rip the envelope open and unfold the letter.

Dearest [Y/N], you’ve pierced my heart like an arrow through a target and I simply cannot get you off my mind. I heard from the grapevine that you wish for my confession. …Maybe I shall do so in the near future? It’s not that I do not want to be yours, but rather that you make me quite nervous. Still, we see each other for terribly brief moments but these moments are the most precious to me. Hopefully I can muster up the courage to finally tell you how I feel. In the meantime, please accept these treats and toys imported from across the globe. My favorite are the dog-shaped biscuits.

Your shy admirer.

Looking up from the letter you find Kazuha stuffing his face with some chocolatey cookies from within a tin box labeled ‘Fontaine.’ “Are those good?” You ask, reaching in and stealing one.

“Mhm,” Kazuha hums, taking a bite out of the one in his hand. “I’ve never had Fontaine chocolate. I guess the rumors about being the best were true.”

You melt under the sweet taste and crunchy texture, thinking that if your crush’s letters had a taste, it would be like this. “This is so nice,” you sigh, eyes sparkling as they gaze upon the basket. “Do you think he’s going to confess to me?”

Kazuha stares out the windows of your office that peer into the rest of the building, watching a certain general spill water on himself and the resistance leader. He takes another bite of a cookie. “Maybe.”

You squeal in delight and spin around in joy. “My heart’s beating so fast! I hope he does it soon or I’ll explode!”

Kazuha chuckles and playfully shoves you aside. “If you explode, I’m eating all of your snacks.”

“No! They’re mine!”

Weeks— almost a month— go by with no further letters. Kazuha stopped coming by, whether at noon or otherwise. The only knocks you got were visits from Kokomi about the budget or from other soldiers carrying reports and receipts from spending. Your heart ached at the sudden lack of contact, wondering if you had done or said something wrong.

Maybe your eagerness was intimidating and this mystery man just wanted someone to flirt with without commitment. Maybe he got bored of you. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

Regardless, you wanted to try and spark it back up in case you’ve stepped on some toes without realizing. That night when you got home, you tossed the ingredients for sakura mochi into a bowl and got to mixing.

The office ate everything you brought before lunchtime rolled around. With such great success, you had confidence that he’d reach out to you tomorrow, if not today.

But alas you were left in silence once more, leaving your heart to crumble and ache. You were quick to recover, considering you never met the guy— let alone knew his name. But you had no time to be worrying anyway, because in a couple of days one of the squads were returning from the front lines and you needed to factor in medical costs. Apparently they took a hard hit when Sara Kujou showed up with her samurai. Kokomi was depending on you, and you didn’t want to let her down.

You spend these few days really crunching the numbers, making sure that every wounded soldier would get the basic medical necessities with some left over for any miscalculations. With every i dotted and every t crossed, you stuffed your report into a fancy envelope and handed it to Kokomi. “Thank you [Y/N] for your hard work under such a sudden timetable.” She thanked, tucking the envelope under her arm. “The team should be arriving tomorrow, so I will be submitting this for review immediately.”

You bow respectfully and offer your thanks for praise. “It’s no problem at all, Her Excellency. I was given ample time to prepare the balance sheet.” You begin to turn when you’re stopped once again by her.

“Before you go,” she smiles softly. “Would you mind helping out at the infirmary? We’re short handed right now with the sudden intake of Delusions.”

“Of course, Her Excellency. I will be there whenever you need me.”

You weren’t specialized in medics but you had helped around often enough to know the basics. And anyone could become a master at immediate medical attention after doing it so many times.

The flood of gurneys was a little disheartening to see, but you were still thankful for all that they do for the greater of the country. It must be scary being at the front lines, but everyone knew what they were signing up for.

You catch sight of Genera Gorou and Lord Kazuha chatting with Lady Kokomi before you were assigned to a batch of wounded soldiers, feeling a little bad for harboring ill feelings toward the young lord for disappearing. ‘You could’ve at least told me that you were leaving,’ you thought as you rinsed the injured area.

“I can take over from here,” the head medic stepped in, slipping on a new pair of gloves before getting a closer look at the soldier before you. With most of everyone patched up and recovering, the medic team was able to take control of the infirmary once again.

You wash your hands and check the clock. A little past noon. It’s funny how at this time you would’ve waited with bated breath for a couple of knocks. But not anymore.

You step out of the infirmary and find Kazuha and General Gorou sitting outside on the benches there. “Oh, hi boys,” you say surprised.

Kazuha grabs and shakes your hand. “Thank you for helping out our soldiers,” he says seriously.

“Oh, it’s not that big of a deal,” you mutter. “I do this all the time.”

A calloused hand pushes Kazuha’s away and shakes your hand firmer, harder. “No, [Y/N],” Gorou says with a sort of oomph behind his words. “These are my men…my family. They would be suffering if not for your help.”

You look to the side uncomfortably, a little put-off by the tension in the air. “And that’s why—!” Gorou continues, suddenly eight decibels louder. You hold eye contact with the general, his face darkening into a deep red flush, his eyes glassy and ears twitching. He squeezed your hand harder and shut his eyes. “M-My C-C-Cupcake!!! P-Please let m-me take you on a date!!!!”

Kazuha winced at the loudness of his friend, covering one of his ears but still smiling nonetheless. The people walking by stared and mumbled, but it didn’t matter as you felt your heart pound against your chest. You felt your eyes well with tears as now your face flushed red, the general cautiously opening his eyes to see your trembling lips and pathetic pout. “A-Ah! [Y/N], don’t cry!!”

You tug on his hand hard, pulling the man into your arms and squeezing him tight. You sobbed into his chest, hearing and feeling how frantic his heart was beating as well. “You idiot!” You shout into his battle-worn chest. “Don’t disappear without telling me…”

Gorou caressed the back of your head and chewed on his lip, his tail drooping with guilt but twitching with excitement for being in your arms. “Did I…scare you?” He whispered tentatively, choosing his words carefully.

You pull away and wipe your eyes, Gorou watching you closely and holding tightly onto your waist. “I thought you got tired of me…because I stopped hearing from you.” Gorou frowned and cupped your face, thumbing your cheeks gently. “I even made sakura mochi and I didn’t—”

“You made sakura mochi??!??!!! Is there any left?!?” Gorou’s jaw dropped. He let you go to turn and run to the break room, halting before running back to embrace you once more. “Heh, uh…” he chuckled nervously. “I’d actually…rather hold you like this…”

You couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your cheeks, flushing your body against his chest. “That’s okay,” you giggle. “There aren’t any left.”

You had no idea that his ears could flatten sadly like that.

[bittermuire]

a nightlight and a bottle of wine

recently I’ve really loved nezriel and wanted to write a lil thing for them. this will be two parts, this is the first. modern au

---

It’s not like Nesta really knew what she was doing when she moved out. All she knows is that there is a rift between her and Feyre; a scar splitting their shared skin, a wound opening and reopening, never to heal.

And so she’s away. They’ve made their mistakes and let them be. They’ve hurt each other and even tried to love, but sisters love each other too much for love—and so she’s away. The guilt is still there, but farther from her, now. Nesta stirs it into her morning coffee and drinks the sleep, wiping it from beneath her eyes and the lines around her mouth.

Every so often Cassian will text her, inviting her out to dinner or to a work party, and Nesta resists the urge to throttle him. He’s a very smart, thirty-five year old man. He should know what cutting off someone means.

(He knows, of course he knows. She guesses he just thinks it doesn’t apply to him.)

His roguish charm, his smirk, his low voice, all inviting her to one thing—sex—was beginning to exhaust her. It’s a surprising relief to be away from him. She feels like she can wear tank tops and let her hair down and go out without a bra, relieved he won’t be there to stare.

(Was she really so afraid of him?)

So Nesta lives her life and drinks her coffee, wears her tank tops and sleeps in her underwear, finally a woman in the way she’s always wanted to be; she feels discrete from the rest of the world but in a near comforting way. She has no one to disappoint, no one to miss. Her world is confined to very few people and her mind allows for one.

•

But there are things that trip her up. Remaining ties.

One such: the nightlight clipped to her bed. It’s cheap, a gaudy silver. She’s sure Azriel bought it for no more than two dollars.

But she uses it every night.

(This trips her up.)

It’s a routine she’s given to herself, written into the margins of her life; she climbs into bed, smooths the blankets over her legs, grabs her book, opens it on her lap, then twists and switches on the light. It illuminates the page with a pretty, golden sun. She uses it religiously. She thinks that if she lost it, some intrinsic part of her might be lost as well, and this frightens her.

Remaining ties should be snipped. These last threads should be spooled up, put away, hidden in the bottom drawer.

She switches it on anyway, watches the light trace the letters.

(Sometimes she thinks she is the black stamp of letters. The utter bleakness of them on the smooth page. Sometimes she thinks she is what ruins the paper. She is what ruined the paper. There’s a reason she is here and they are there.)

•

November 19th.

Happy birthday to me.

She buys a cake from the supermarket and blows out the candle.

There’s a knock at the door, late at night. Not thinking to check, she goes to open it, and there stands Azriel, still in the doorway, bottle of wine in hand.

“Happy birthday,” he says bluntly.

She lets him in for some reason she still doesn’t understand, and they end up drinking a glass together. It’s from Cassian, the wine—his favorite. Azriel tells her that Cassian didn’t think she’d take it from him.

“So he asked you,” she says.

He smiles. “Because you like me.”

1:00 AM, and they’re still drinking. They barely talk. They just sit; they sit on the kitchen stools, then the rickety chairs, then the floor, then the couch, then back to the floor. His cheeks are pink, his words slurred.

“Why’d you come?” she asks, peering down at where he lays, splayed out, on the carpet.

(He’s not the kind for favors, she knows that.)

Opening his eyes, he fixes his gaze on her. He smiles sleepily.

“Happy birthday, Nesta.”

•

She doesn’t really celebrate for the holidays. Her apartment is bare, save a pair of twinkling bells on the kitchen counter, tied with a red ribbon. Sometimes when she’s cooking she’ll give them a little ring.

The letter comes in the mail—from Feyre, clearly put there by her own hand. It’s an invitation to dinner, for the winter solstice. They’re celebrating early this year because they’re going out of town for a few weeks.

(Please don’t feel pressured to come. We were going to leave you be but Az, since he’s so considerate, thought you might appreciate an invite.)

Nesta picks up her phone and texts Feyre a simple no thanks.

•

The next morning, she opens her door to a bottle of wine. Its neck is tied with a cherry red ribbon, and there’s a note—“If you’re ever lonely, give me a call. It’s my favorite.”

She doesn’t need to see who it’s from to know.

She smiles and picks it up, taking it inside.

•

It bites, the loneliness.

She wasn’t prepared for the quiet.

She traded in insults and jabs and sweaty hands at dinner tables for nothing, nothing, nothing. Silence in the shower, silence over breakfast. Over time, it’s begun to grate on her skin, sift between the strands of her hair, and she feels like she’s swimming a meter below the surface, ears clogged, vision blurred.

And slowly, she’s started to cry; she cries when the silence is too loud, when her aloneness is real, when she realizes the ugly truth of it all. She’s alone, she has nobody, she’s alone.

She picks up her phone and dials his number. “Let’s drink your wine.”

A small quiet. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“I know, Nesta,” he laughs. “I’ll be there.”

•

They don’t drink at all, actually. She starts crying again the minute she sees his face.

“Nesta?”

•

“I’m fine, really.”

They’re walking down the aisle of the grocery store, weeks later.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m doing better, I am.”

He shrugs. “I don’t care. Pick a flavor. We’ll eat it, we’ll watch a movie.” He looks her up and down, brow creased. “You need two things—no, make that three things.”

She huffs a laugh, sticking her hand into the freezer and pulling out a carton. “What?”

“Sleep, ice cream, and company.” He grins. “And now you’ve got me.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you.”

•

He’s seen her beautiful; he’s seen her ugly. He’s seen her in her rattiest apron with flour crusted into her fingernails. He’s seen her laugh so hard she cries, watched her slam her head into an open cupboard door, driven her to the hospital when she sliced her hand open with a knife. They’re together a lot, she realizes. They’re not halves; they’re one and one, and one and one make two, and they stand as two together on sidewalks, squinting at menus in the windows of restaurants, and they pet dogs in the park (Nesta always asks, because Az gets shy), and they take walks at midnight, and they live their lives contentedly next to each other’s. She starts to wonder if he splits his life into two—into Cassian and Rhys and Mor and Feyre, and into her, the girl who walked away. She’d like to know why he followed her.

Sometimes she’ll catch herself staring. Even before Cassian, she’d thought Azriel was the most beautiful of the three; all graceful, sloping shadows, soft and deep eyes, curling black hair. Her heart doesn’t know what to do anymore. It skips a beat when she sees him, but calms when she’s near him. It races when he leans close, falls to steadiness when he slings his arm over her shoulders. She can’t decide if she loves him like this or loves him like that. He means so much to her, means so many different things, that to give him a singular word wouldn’t fit.

She calls him Azriel, Az, Steve, Steven Shadow, Mr. Shadow, Ralph, Ron, He of the Candied Pecans, You. He responds to all of it. Recently he told her that it wasn’t because of the name, but because of the voice—(of course I don’t know who Ralph is, Nesta, but your voice, it’s your voice you use for me)—and she felt warm for reasons she couldn’t understand.

She shows up unannounced at his apartment when it’s a bad night. He does the same.

•

“Tell me the truth,” she begins, tipsy. “Did you like me before?”

“What?”

“Did you like me before?”

He frowns. “Elaborate.”

“Before you learned I’m a nice person. Back at the townhouse. When I hated everyone and was rude to you.”

“Oh.” He laughs a little. “I always liked you,” he says, and then his face settles into something like sadness. Nesta watches him closely. “I didn’t like… the way you made me feel, though. I’d see you down the hall, tired and everything, a stick of a person, and Rhys would make some joke, and I’d hate him.”

She blinks.

He looks down. “I’d never hated him before.”

There’s a tension between them. It’s common enough to be recognizable, but not enough to be familiar. She’s on edge, unsure.

The silence seeps in.

“And I hated myself, too,” he says. His eyes flick back up to hers.

Her breath catches in her chest. “I hated myself because I didn’t do anything. So I stayed away.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, overwhelmed. Everything is building; everything is quiet. His eyes are deep and dark and swirling. He shakes his head slightly, leaning closer, slowly, slowly, and she sees it all happen—he takes her face in his hands. She can see the stray strand of hair on his forehead, the one eyelash resting by his nose, the mole right above his mouth.

“I watched you fade,” he breathes. “I watched them pull you around.”

She twines one finger into his hair, trying to bring him closer, trying to have him closer. Come here, Azriel. Come with me. Be with me, love me, because I love you.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, because it’s all she can say.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he murmurs, and kisses her.

•

“Wait,” he says, reaching up.

“What?”

He touches the nightlight. “You kept this?”

She laughs, curled into his side, and says, “Of course I did.” He drops a kiss to her hair. “They all bought me books. You made it easy to read them.”

—-

@acosfisfeysandpropaganda I finally wrote it!!

[honeyedhoseok]

Blue | 01

genre | jeon jungkook x reader; lifeguard!JK but this isn't really a lifeguard fic; soulmate!au if you squint; smut; angst

word count | 9.9K

summary | that summer with jungkook was blue--a shade that carries with it a tinge of melancholia that you should have accepted from the beginning.

or,

to say that you fell in love with a color was an overstatement, but to say that you fell in love with him was an understatement.

a/n | i've been writing this to avoid my responsibilities. hope you enjoy! <3

series masterlist

It rained the first day Jungkook worked at the pool.

You’d heard the news of a few new lifeguards starting that day, but you’d been too busy serving ice cream at the snack bar to really get anything other than a quick glance at the lifeguard stand before you were locking eyes with the next greedy customer in line.

It was the beginning of summer, with the air sitting hot, dry and heavy on the normal patrons of the pool: older moms who sunbathed and gossiped with their friends while their kids splashed in the shallow end and gave the lifeguards something to do. Teenagers too cool to actually get in the pool littered the sides, only dipping their feet in while using expensive Ray Ban frames like a headband to hold their hair out of their eyes while they talked with their friends.

The forecast had mentioned some scattered storms, but normally that just meant getting everyone to come inside for a few minutes until it passed. The storm that day, however, had plans of sticking around a little bit longer.

You were passing a cup of strawberry shortcake soft serve out the window when the first clap of thunder sounded, followed by a lightning storm that sent the lifeguards in a tizzy. Multiple whistles blew at the sudden appearance of a storm, and the atmosphere was a rush of splashing and commotion as people made their way out of the water and to their belongings scattered in chairs on the sides.

“Well, that came out of nowhere,” your coworker, Jihyo says, sidling up beside you to look at the clouds looming over what was supposed to be a normal day at the pool. “Wonder if we’ll get to go home early?”

“I hope not,” you reply. “I need these hours, damn it. The Blooming Festival is in a few weeks, and I plan on taking off at least three days to soak it all in.”

Jihyo rolls her eyes. “Yeah, you’ve only mentioned it, maybe, every day I’ve worked with you so far?”

Serving ice cream at the pool was just a summer job. You were working there to make some money so you could do things with your friends, put gas in your car, and occasionally splurge on a new outfit or pair of shoes. It was supposed to be as normal as every other summer you’d worked there in between college semesters—until he showed up.

In fifteen minutes, the pool was shut down completely; all of the patrons were packed up and back in their cars after an announcement from your manager that the storm was forecasted to not let up for at least another hour and a half.

“Oh, we’re definitely going home,” Jihyo says, shutting the serving window and twisting the lock. “When’s the last time Seokjin shut down the pool indefinitely?”

You purse your lips, leaning back against the counter behind you and looking out at the pouring rain behind Jihyo. The wind was starting to pick up now, leaves and debris filling the once-clean surface of the cerulean water of the pool.

You start to make a bitter remark but the sound of heavy, slapping footsteps cuts you off, followed by a loud pounding at the back door. Jihyo looks toward the source of the noise with furrowed eyebrows, tilting her chin up stubbornly.

“More twelve-year-olds coming to demand that we restock Moose Tracks?”

“Hey, Moose Tracks is a classic!” you call at her back as she goes to unlock the door. “It’s not their fault you keep picking unpopular flavors to order each week—like Mint Chocolate Chip!”

The back door opens, and the shop is suddenly flooded with voices following Jihyo back into the small space.

“MCC is the goddamn classic, Y/N,” Jihyo says, stomping back into the conversation like she never left off. “Don’t ever bash it again, or I’ll stop ordering Sea Salt Caramel for your uncultured ass!”

You want to laugh, but you’re too distracted by the hoard of boys—lifeguards—trailing behind her. Yoongi and the two new guys crowd your space suddenly, and you find yourself backing up into one of the corners and trying not to look as embarrassed as you felt for just arguing with Jihyo over ice cream flavors, of all things.

The boys are soaking wet, puddles collecting at their feet on the tiled inside of the kitchen, but they seem unphased by it as they huddle in. Thankfully, one of them comes to your rescue.

“I’m with her,” he says, giving you a nod. His smile fills up his whole face as he talks, making his eyes turn into little crescent half-moons. “Sea Salt Caramel is where it’s at.”

The other lifeguard doesn’t say anything, gaze focused over your heads outside where the wind is knocking sunbathing chairs over. You realize then how tall he is—possibly half a foot or more than you—and the thought that if you were close enough, your nose wouldn’t even brush the dip of his clavicle, has your cheeks burning.

He and the half-moon lifeguard have similar builds: long, lean body statures, almond-shaped eyes, the same dark hair that falls in wet strands in their eyes. You wonder if they’re related. Maybe the taller one is the older brother, you think.

“The great ice cream debate,” Yoongi murmurs suddenly, sounding bored. “How about we have some and solve this problem once and for all?”

As he reaches for one of the serving spoons, Jihyo’s arm flies out, smacking it out of his hands. It falls with a clatter onto the counter, and he looks at her with an animated expression of surprise and disgust.

“Uh-uh,” she says, wagging a finger at him. “It’s like Seokjin’s only rule for us.”

“Seokjin can kiss my—“

As if on cue, the back door swings open and Yoongi shuts his mouth as Seokjin comes in, looking incredibly dry due to the floor-length plastic covering hanging from his umbrella.

Leave it to Seokjin to own something as extra as that, you think.

“Get comfy,” he says as he steps out of the plastic, shaking water off the top that splashes onto your scuffed, white Keds.

You gaze down, realizing only then that none of the lifeguards are wearing shoes. Yoongi’s pinky toe is edging dangerously close to a melted puddle of chocolate ice cream you forgot to clean up, but you don’t have the guts to tell him in front of your manager, so you shoo the thought away and focus on the grim look on Seokjin’s face. He’s chewing gum and looks slightly annoyed at the thought of all five of you huddled inside instead of doing work.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he says, “but I need you guys to stay here until the storm calms down. It should pass in an hour or two.”

Jihyo frowns. “And if it doesn’t?”

“Then I’ll send you home.”

She grins triumphantly.

“And I’ll need you to come in early tomorrow to clean up that mess out there,” Seokjin adds, giving her a sickly-sweet smile. He blows a bubble with his pink chewing gum for emphasis, the pop resonating in the small space.

Yoongi frowns and Jihyo’s mouth drops open. The new lifeguards seem as surprised as the other two, and they eye Seokjin curiously, probably trying to figure out what kind of manager he is. Even after all this time working for him, you don’t really know the answer to that question, either.

“Any more questions?” he asks, tone leaning somewhat on annoyance. But then again, that’s how Seokjin always sounded.

Jihyo shakes her head and Yoongi gives him a deepened frown in answer.

“Good. You,” he says, looking pointedly at Yoongi and mimicking his annoyed expression. “See to it that Hoseok and Jungkook get acquainted with the rules.” He steps inside his clear cocoon of an umbrella, reaching down to zip it up above his head. “And I’ll let you know when it’s safe to go outside and clean up.”

Jungkook, you think. You know immediately that it’s his name because it just fits him. You feel yourself rolling the unspoken syllables around the inside of your mouth, wondering when you’ll get the first chance to say them aloud.

Yoongi salutes half-assedly, and Jihyo elbows him in the side after Seokjin turns around and makes his exit. After the back door is shut, the five of you visibly deflate, and Yoongi sucks his teeth.

“That guy,” he mutters. “One of these days—”

“I wish you’d learn your lesson and stop messing with him,” Jihyo says, interrupting whatever nasty comment was about to spill from his mouth. “It’s probably because of you that Seokjin wants us to stay, instead of going home in this god-awful weather.”

“Why doesn’t he like Yoongi?” Hoseok asks, eyes flickering to the chestnut-haired, simmering boy to his left.

“His most recent offense?” Jihyo ponders, crossing her arms over her chest as she thinks. “Not showing up for his shift—threedays in a row.”

“I was sick,” Yoongi says dryly, narrowing his eyes at her. “What did you want me to do? Not stay in bed and get better?”

“Oh, your bed must suddenly have relocated to the pool hall at five in the afternoon, huh?” she says, tilting her head to the side in mocking. “Snapchat locations don’t lie, Yoongi. If you’re going to play hooky, do it better.”

Hoseok chuckles. “Damn, man.”

Yoongi, never one to back down from an argument, flicks his brown fringe out of his eyes. “Why don’t you teach me then, Little Miss Stomachache?”

“I had cramps!” Jihyo says indignantly.

“You’ll learn that being around these two is like being around an old married couple,” you murmur to Jungkook and Hoseok as Yoongi and Jihyo’s voices rise louder and louder in contest. “They get along like cats and dogs.”

Jungkook grins at your comment, and you think your heart stops a little in your chest before starting an accelerated rhythm that has you feeling light. His lips pull back prettily over his teeth, his cheeks balling a little from the force of it.

“I’m thinking cats and dogs might actually be more civil than this, to be honest,” Hoseok says, gesturing to an annoyed Yoongi threatening to rub his clammy, wet feet on Jihyo’s bare, shorts-clad legs.

In the time that you had worked there, there were very few civil moments between Jihyo and Yoongi. You think that maybe they were civil when Yoongi first started, and you remember faintly a comment made by Jihyo that Yoongi was “cute” and maybe that they exchanged numbers at some point—but then rumors went around that Yoongi said Jihyo was too loud and controlling, and Jihyo said he was a selfish bastard, and you think they’ve been sworn enemies ever since.

“You’re probably right,” you say finally, giggling at Hoseok’s comment. You stop abruptly when you see Jungkook’s eyes fall to your mouth at the sight of it splitting open with a grin. They linger there for a moment before he speaks for the first time since entering you and Jihyo’s space.

“What did you say your name was, again?” he asks.

His voice is soft and low, almost a lilted hum, and it catches you off guard in comparison to his very boyish, young features. You expected it to be higher, to sound almost preteen-like, but it’s nothing of the sort—it immediately has you questioning how old he is in comparison to Hoseok.

“Y/N,” you say. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, I guess.”

Jungkook smiles again, and this time it feels like one especially conjured up for you.

“Y/N,” he repeats, the sound of his tongue rolling over the syllables sends a little zap to your insides. “You um, have a little something there, on your shirt.”

He takes one hand out of his blue swim trunks and points to your breastbone, where a dark splotch of chocolate ice cream sits over your sternum.

“Aw, fuck!” you murmur, facing burning as you spin around on your heel, grabbing the nearest hand towel and dabbing at your shirt. “These kids—”

“It wouldn’t stain like that if it was Mint Chocolate Chip,” Jihyo sneers suddenly, cutting whatever Yoongi was about to say to her off. She grins triumphantly at the stain, returning to your argument from earlier. “Would it?”

You flip her the bird, still dabbing at the fabric—but you can’t help but revel a little in the cute smile Jungkook gives you as he watches you fuss over yourself, digging around the kitchen space for anything to save you from the ice cream on your shirt.

After that fated day, your mind lingered on Jungkook incessantly. At the pool, you glanced at him more often than not from the serving window of the ice cream stand, committing him to memory. You found yourself reminiscing over the upended triangular shape of his upper body, the lithe muscle covering his shoulder blades, the image of a whistle poised between his rosy lips, his teeth pressed tightly against the metal, his body wet and glistening as he rose out of the pool—

“You’re literally drooling, Y/N,” Jihyo says, breaking you out of your reverie by snapping her fingers in front of your face. “Why don’t you just, I don’t know, go talk to him?”

“I will,” you say indignantly. “I told you—I’m waiting.”

“It’s been three weeks.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say, nodding. “Still waiting.”

“Jesus,” Jihyo sighs. “I didn’t want to do this, but you know he’s only here for the summer, right?”

You freeze in the middle of cleaning the counter. “He’s what?”

“You heard me—you have less than three months, Y/N,” Jihyo says firmly. “I know rushing isn’t your style but, uh, you might not have a choice this time.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me!”

You hate how your voice sounds pitiful and whiny, but your heart is literally sinking at this news—three months? Less than three months? Where was he going? What would you do with your time when he wasn’t there to look out the window at? It dawns on you suddenly that you won’t be there in three months, either. School started back at the end of August—your sophomore year.

“Why didn’t you let me know you were interested in him?” Jihyo crosses her arms over her chest. “I’ve been watching you fawn over him for all this time, just waiting and hoping you’d confide in me, but no.”

“What was I supposed to say?” you retort glumly. “That I like the lifeguard that seems the least interested in my existence? Yeah, no, I’ll save myself from that sadness train going nowhere, thank you very much.”

“Maybe I can help you,” Jihyo says with confidence, turning to the window. “Hey, Jungkook!”

You freeze. “What? What are you doing?”

Jungkook looks your way, raising an eyebrow above his black Ray Bans. Jihyo leans out of the serving window, beckoning him over with a wave of her hand.

She turns to you. “Look how easy this is going to be.”

You swallow to combat the sudden tightness in your throat, watching with bated breath as Jungkook climbs down the lifeguard ladder and walks to you two, his feet slapping a little on the wet cement surrounding the pool.

“What’s up?” he says, pushing his sunglasses back on his head and unknowingly releasing the full intensity of his doe-like eyes.

You inhale a small gasp that Jihyo obviously hears, because she lightly presses her Ked-clad foot on top of yours below the counter.

“Me, you, Y/N, Hoseok,” Jihyo says with a confidence you could never muster. “Dinner and a movie on the boardwalk this weekend?”

Jungkook’s eyes pass from hers to yours for a split second, and your pulse picks up speed in your veins. If he seems surprised from the random invitation, however, he doesn’t let it show on the easy-going expression that he wears.

“Sure,” he says. “Can you remind me when it gets a little closer? I’ll have to make sure my parents don’t have anything planned.”

Jihyo flips her hair over her shoulder, casually producing her phone from what feels like thin air. You blink down at her hand, realizing this was her plan all along.

“Put your number in,” she says. “I’ll make us a group chat. We should probably have one anyways, since we work together. You know?”

Jungkook nods and puts his number in before handing it back to her. A commotion happens in the water behind him, and he glances over his shoulder with concern. “I should probably head back,” he says. He gives you both a small smile before he flips his sunglasses down over his eyes again, hitting a slight jog back to the lifeguard stand.

When he’s out of earshot, Jihyo texts rapidly on her phone. When she’s done yours vibrates three times in your pocket: the start of the group chat, you’re sure.

“And that, my friend,” she says, giving you a grin that could rival the Grinch when he decided to steal Christmas, “is how you get the ball rolling!”

Unfortunately, Jihyo’s plans—which she has annoyingly coined as Operation: Get Y/N Laid—don’t stop there.

On Thursday, just two days before the plans, she convinces Hoseok to come with her to something before the meet up that’s going to coincidentally make them late so that you and Jungkook have time to be alone.

When she tells you this, it’s as she’s making a double scoop chocolate cone, but you can’t help the overwhelming urge that comes over you to put your hands around her neck.

“Ack! Y/N! Let go!” she says between breaths with wide eyes. “I’m going to drop the ice—”

“You’re so dumb!” you yell, squeezing a little harder. “That’s such an obvious ploy to get us alone, he’s going to realize it!”

Jihyo finally squirms out of your grip by turning her head and licking your arm. The warmth of her tongue makes you recoil, and she gasps with relief as air floods back into her lungs, looking at the now-lopsided cone in her left hand.

“Now how am I supposed to give this to that little brat outside?” she says, frowning. “His mom will come and eat me alive if I hand this slop out of the window.”

“You probably deserve it,” you say sourly. You lean your hip into one of the counters, crossing your arms over your chest. “Take your plans back, Jihyo.”

“I can’t,” she says calmly. “Hoseok is already in on it.”

“He’s what?!”

“He’s in on Operation: Get Y/N Laid,” she says again, with that same ridiculous manner of calm, like you didn’t just make her life flash before her eyes thirty seconds ago. “Stop freaking out—he wants to give you some time alone just like I do. So, he’s not going to say anything to Jungkook. The plan will go on like normal, you will just have to do a little acting when we don’t show up on time. Got it?”

In all honesty, it’s not the worse plan she has ever come up with. But you don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing so, so you keep your current frown plastered on your mouth for a little longer to let her know your displeasure with the sudden turn of events.

“Oh, don’t you go all pouty on me,” Jihyo says, wagging a finger at you as she trashes the cone you messed up and grabs another. She scoops more ice cream out of the container below her, giving you a look that reminds you of a mother watching her children open Christmas presents after telling them they weren’t getting anything for months. “You’ll thank me later—right after you tell me if Jungkook has anything worthy of talking about.”

“I’m sure he does,” you respond indignantly, falling right into her trap. “He’s intelligent.”

Jihyo hums a nod before brandishing the new cone, two scoops of chocolate perfectly centered and balanced on top of each other. “Before long this will be you two—are you a top or a bottom, though? I forgot.”

You groan in anguish as Jihyo lets out a cackle, opening the window to your stand and handing it out the impatient little boy that waits outside. You’re grateful for the breeze, although its simmering warmth does nothing for the same feeling that has settled high on your cheeks, dusting pigment there reminiscent of a similar shade of red Jungkook sometimes sports on his swim trunks.

The day of the boardwalk date, you find yourself sprawled out on the floor in front of your closet in your underwear and bra, contemplating why you ever purchased every single item of clothing in your closet.

These kinds of freak outs are normally reserved for the pressing dates in life—first day of college, nights out with the girls, birthdays—but today, you find yourself freaking out over the instance of having to wear the perfect outfit in order to feel comfortable around Jungkook.

Comfortable, and most importantly, pretty.

You shuffle through your two final picks, laying them across your bed in order to get the full effect of what they might look like on. They were both incredibly simple—your college wardrobe either consisted of exercise shorts and t-shirts and hoodies or going out clothes that were much too revealing for a fun night on the boardwalk. But you fret over them some more, so much that you almost have a nervous breakdown and text Jihyo to call the whole thing off.

But the slight hum of your phone vibrating your bed stops you before you can do so. It’s from Jungkook, and you heart beats a little off kilter at the sight of his name popping up on your phone screen.

Jungkook 5:15PM : We still meeting at 6?

It’s directed to your group chat with him, Jihyo and Hoseok. You take a deep breath. Jihyo had told you that she wasn’t going to respond to any messages until the last minute, to really sell her “emergency” that she had to bring Hoseok along on. You were driving separately, as was Jungkook, but the two of them had decided to conveniently carpool a day prior.

Y/N 5:18PM : I’ll be there! Park at Pier 14, it’s the closest one to the boardwalk

Jungkook 5:20PM : Yes ma’am 😊

You smile down at your phone, biting down on your bottom lip softly as you read the message over a few times before clicking the screen lock button. You prop your hands on your hips, deciding that it’s now or never. The nights got chilly in the summer when the sun wasn’t beating down as heavy, and you hated being cold. So, you choose the outfit on the right—a simple, oversized pullover and bike shorts, paired with some scuffed white sneakers, and rush into the bathroom to get ready so you’re not late.

You get to the pier at exactly 6:01 and search around for a parking space.

A part of you feels like this is a bad plan. Especially when you look down at your phone after cutting the engine and realize that Jihyo has texted you something that makes your stomach drop.

Jihyo 5:59PM : Haha…bad news

Jihyo 5:59PM : DON’T KILL ME

Y/N 6:02PM : Please, no!!! What is it!!

Jihyo 6:03PM : The check engine light on my car came on as I was leaving Hoseok’s. Don’t panic. We are waiting for AAA to come get us and take us back to his house so he can drive. I repeat: DON’T. PANIC.

“Okay, okay” you say to yourself, taking a few calming, deep breaths in. “At least she has a plan? This can still work out. I’m not panicking. Yet.”

Y/N 6:03PM : When are they estimated to be there?

Her messaging dots appear and disappear for a few minutes and your anxiety skyrockets.

Y/N 6:06PM : JIHYO

Jihyo 6:07PM : between 6:45-7PM…

Y/N 6:08PM : THE MOVIE STARTS AT 7:05 YOU ABSOLUTE

There’s a knock at your window that has you almost jumping out of your skin. When you look up, you’re met by the wide grin and big, childlike eyes of Jungkook. He peers at you through the tinted glass, looking a little sheepish at having scared you on accident.

All your anxiety about Jihyo having an actual emergency disappears as you unclick your seat belt and scramble out of the car to join him.

“I really didn’t mean to do that,” he says, stepping back and giving you space to swing your door open. “Is everything all right?”

“What?” you say. “Oh, yeah. Everything is fine. Well—sort of.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you. “Did something happen?”

“Jihyo is having car trouble, so her and Hoseok are going to be late.”

You bite down on your bottom lip, shifting your weight from leg to leg. The outing was supposed to be all of you as a group—and originally, them being a little late wouldn’t have been such a problem. But you were thinking thirty minutes max, not an hour and a half!

You’re relieved when Jungkook shrugs. “Oh, okay,” he says. “Well, I’m still cool with walking around until the movie starts if you are ?”

You nod with enthusiasm. “Right—we’re already here, might as well go do some stuff?”

Jungkook smiles again, and you finally take a good look at him. He’s wearing a dark t-shirt under a black zip-up hoodie and a pair of chinos—a simpler outfit that looks way too good on his tall, lean frame. You hadn’t seen him in much other than his swim trunks because the only time you two really saw each other outside of this singular moment, was at work.

Of course, you weren’t complaining about that aspect. You could probably pencil out in detail the muscles of Jungkook’s upper chest and stomach, the way water rolled off them when he got out of the pool, the way they flexed when he pulled his whistle to his mouth. That is, if your drawing skills weren’t absolute shit—so bad at that a kindergartener could probably put you to shame with snapped Crayola’s and disproportionate stick figures.

The sun has already sunk below the horizon, taking with it all the heat and warmth of the day and leaving you with a slight breeze that could give you goosebumps if you let it, and a sky the deepened color of cornflowers.

It’s twilight, you realize, as you trail beside Jungkook from the parking lot cement onto the wooden planks of the boardwalk. A backlit, blue-hued time of day that you absolutely adored during the summertime because you still had just enough light accomplish the activities you wanted to.

Not that you needed to worry about light at a time like this—the bright boardwalk stadium lights are almost blinding, and because it’s the weekend, the two of you find yourself periodically weaving in and out of the crowd that seems to get busier and pushier the further you walk.

Jungkook takes the lead, his taller frame holding more of a reason for people to move out of the way than yours. You watch the back of his head the whole time, noticing the way his raven hair reflects the light—shiny and clean and looking incredibly soft.

“How about a snow cone?” he calls over his shoulder. “It looks like there might be somewhere for us to sit up there.”

He points ahead and you call out an agreement to him, hoping to be heard over the ruckus.

You realize that the crowd isn’t going to let up anytime soon—people have no qualms about walking in between you two, and you find yourself speeding up in order to not be further separated from him.

At some point Jungkook glances behind him again and realizes your struggle. He slows his pace, and you happen to look down and realize he is holding out the long sleeve of his hoodie for you to hold on to.

“Don’t get lost,” he says with a grin. “This snow cone will be worth it, I promise!”

You return his smile, holding onto his arm with a light touch as he continues to lead through the crowd. You curse Jihyo silently in your head—despite her fake emergency turning into a real emergency, she was right about one thing: time alone with Jungkook was something you couldn’t pass up.

When you finally make it to the snow cone cart, you let go of Jungkook’s arm quickly. He looks at you with suspicion as you snatch away, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a shit-eating grin, like he knew exactly what he was doing to your racing pulse by offering you his touch.

“What flavor do you want?” he asks, looking at the menu stand on the right. “My treat.”

You both immediately point to Tiger’s Blood, and Jungkook seems pleased with you.

“Good choice,” he says. “If you picked Pina Colada, I was going to lose it.”

You giggle. “You don’t like coconut?”

“No,” he says, frowning. “I snuck some of my mom’s Malibu one time without realizing and I almost barfed.”

You laugh again, shaking your head. You realize that you still don’t how old Jungkook is, and while he orders your snow cones, you look at him with scrutiny. There was something young about his eyes and face, the roundness of the tip of his nose and cheeks making you believe he was younger than you. But his body—good grief, his body—and the sharpness of his jawline and said otherwise.

When you’re both seated at a picnic table, you decide to ask him.

“Why?” he says. “How old do you think?”

You take a timid bite of your snow cone, relishing in the satisfying crunch of ice between your teeth. “Hmm, I know you’re college-age. Just wondering how old.”

“That story I told about sneaking alcohol was from a few years ago,” he says, laughing. “I’m twenty-one.”

“Oh.”

“You’re only nineteen, right?” he says, but it doesn’t seem like he cares much that you’re younger.

You nod. “But my birthday is in September.”

“So is mine,” he replies with a grin. “We’ll have to try to celebrate together, somehow.”

You try not to let on how happy his suggestion makes you—that months from now, you two will be friends that throw parties together, or possibly more—and you settle into your seat, munching happily on the cold treat that is slowly turning from ice to mush in the paper cone in your hands.

“So why the pool?” you say a few moments later. “Did you work at another one before ours?”

Jungkook blinks. “I have my CPR certification from another part time job I had at a gym,” he said. “I don’t know why they made us get it, honestly.”

You laugh. “Maybe in case one of the meatheads lifted too much at once?”

“Maybe,” he says, grinning. “But the gym couldn’t work around my school schedule anymore. So, when I came home I saw the pool was looking for a new part-time lifeguard and I applied.”

“You only come home during the summer?”

Jungkook nods, but a look of annoyance flashes across his face before he answers. “There’s not much for me here, honestly. I like school and being on my own, away from my parents.”

“I get that.”

It was something you could both agree on. You didn’t realize freedom could taste so sweet until you moved into your dorm on campus. You could stay up when you wanted, sleep when you wanted, go out when you wanted. As long as you kept your grades up and didn’t lose your scholarship for your parent’s sake, you were literally allowed to do whatever your heart desired.

“It’s too far away to fly back and forth, anyways,” Jungkook adds, suddenly. He tilts his paper cone back, dumping all of the remaining liquid into his mouth before crumpling it in his left fist.

“How far?”

“California.”

“Oh. Why there?”

Somehow, you were taken aback to hear that he’d chosen a school so far from his home. You wonder suddenly if the sullen look he’d given your earlier had more to it than you realized.

Jungkook ignores your question—like you expected—and stands up. You scramble to finish the remains of your cone and he holds his hand out for your trash. You give it to him, feeling the slight brush of your fingers against his palm that reminds you of earlier when he’d offered his arm. He doesn’t this time, but you find yourself wishing he would again. Or that you two were close enough for you to reach out and grab it without his permission.

“That’s a story for later,” he says, giving you a look meant to soften the blow of his hard statement. “I don’t want to talk about it right now—it’ll ruin the mood.”

You nod slightly, bringing your bottom lip back between your teeth to gnaw on. You hadn’t meant to upset him.

“Is there anything you want to do?” he asks, looking around. “We have about thirty minutes before we should head back to the car for the drive-in movie.”

The boardwalk was in full swing as the night progressed, the sky now a deep shade of indigo behind him. You stand with him, leaning onto your tip toes in an effort to recognize any signs further down the wooden path.

“The arcade, maybe?” you suggest.

Jungkook fake clutches at his chest, staggering with clumsy steps to one side. “A woman after my own heart,” he says theatrically. “I might faint.”

You laugh loudly and roll your eyes to cover up your own heartbeat thumping wildly in your ears. You use the rush to match his energy: “I’m only saying it because I want you to win me a plushie.”

Jungkook smiles, his eyes full of light and mischief at getting to show off his skills. “That, madam, is a deal. Let’s go.”

Jihyo still hasn’t texted you by the time you and Jungkook exit the arcade.

You want to send a scolding text to her, but in reality, you don’t really care if they show up anymore. Jungkook seems to have forgotten they were coming—he doesn’t look at his phone once while you two flit from game to game in the arcade.

You’d watched from the side as he entered a water pistol race with a few other patrons of the boardwalk. He sat down on a stool right in the middle of everyone, leaning over the gun and closing one eye for better accuracy. His tongue poked out between his lips, his form rigid and unyielding until the announcer blew a whistle to start the race. You held back a laugh at his seriousness, pressing a hand to your mouth in case he looked over at you.

He did, but only once the flashing lights above his booth went off, signaling him as the winner. He’d hopped off the stool and raced over to you, placing a hand above your elbow before pulling you over to claim your reward from the prize table.

You chose a blue and white dolphin that was just big enough to be slightly comical. Jungkook carried it over his shoulder as you two walked back toward his car, giddy from the excitement of playing carnival games and teasing each other all the while.

“Okay, but you wouldn’t have even beaten me at basketball if yours didn’t come to my side and knock my shots off course constantly!” Jungkook insists. “You’re a sneaky little thing.”

“Why can’t you just admit my two-pointer is better than yours?”

“Y/N,” Jungkook says, shaking his head in disappointment. “I’m almost six foot and you’re what—five-one? You simply can’t be a better shot that I am because of your genetics. I’m sorry.”

Your mouth drops open. “I’m literally five-three!”

“Minus two.”

“Oh, whatever!”

Jungkook laughs loudly, throwing his head back from the force of it. You pout alongside him, but you can’t help the telling smile that creeps onto your face. You like this side of Jungkook—it was so different from the stoic and quiet lifeguard you knew him as before.

“The drive-in is just a block that way, right?” he asks once you two come up on the parking lot. He shifts the dolphin higher on his shoulder, stopping in his tracks to turn and look at you. “I can drive us in my car, if you want.”

Your eyes widen a little at his suggestion. You didn’t even think about the fact that if Jihyo and Hoseok weren’t here, it would just be you and him watching the movie together.

“Oh—um, I mean,” you stumble over your answer. “If that’s okay with you?”

“I offered, didn’t I?” he says with another laugh. He gestures to the stuffed animal perched on his shoulder. “Plus, we’ve got a nice seat cushion, here.”

You smile and nod before following him to his car. It’s a little navy SUV—something you didn’t expect him drive at all. He seemed like a “car guy” for some reason, one that would have driven something old and sturdy and loud.

“This is—cute,” you say, for lack of better wording.

Jungkook sucks his teeth. “Man, why does everyone say that?” He groans. “This thing is great on gas, okay? And look at all this trunk space! I mean, if you lived all the way in California—"

“Hey, hey,” you say, holding your hands up in defense. “I’m sorry, that was terrible wording. Did I say cute? I meant cutely efficient. You didn’t let me finish.”

Jungkook laughs again, nodding. “That’s what I thought you meant, yeah.”

He throws your dolphin in the backseat and then opens the passenger side door for you to get in. Your cheeks are hot as you move past him to settle into the seat, giving him a timid smile as he shuts the door behind you. You watch him walk around the front of the vehicle, lit up by a neighboring car’s headlights for just a fraction of a second.

He’s handsome to you while doing the most mundane of things, and your heart hurts at the thought. You couldn’t have a crush on him. He was your coworker for one, and for two, he didn’t live there. He went to school across the country, and he was only home for three incredibly short months. There would be nothing to your relationship, so you couldn’t let yourself fall into the trap of having a crush on someone so, well—unavailable. You pinch yourself hard on the thigh as a seal of reminder: this could not, would not, happen.

The slam of the car door brings you back to reality. Jungkook presses the start button on his dashboard before clicking his seatbelt across his upper body.

“You good?” he says, looking over at you with a furrowed brow. When you nod, he backs the car out of the space, his hand on the back of your headrest for good measure.

You take a few uneven breaths in and out at the action, forcing yourself to remain looking out of the front windshield and to not turn your head towards him even a fraction. You know doing so would put your faces at an incredible proximity, and you what the hell did you just pinch yourself over if you weren’t going to stick with it!

“Any word from Jihyo and Hoseok?” he asks. “It would be cool if we could still get dinner with them afterwards, at least.”

You pull your phone out of your crossbody. The screen lights up to no new unread messages, so you sent Jihyo a quick text in your private chat.

Y/N 6:58PM : Update?

It sends but doesn’t get read immediately in normal Jihyo fashion.

“Hm, maybe the tow truck is there, and she can’t talk,” you say. “I hope everything’s all right.”

“Me too,” Jungkook says. “But this is fun—with just us two.” He pauses, glancing over at you. “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah, of course,” you say quickly, giving him a smile. “I’m having a great time.”

He seems sated by this information, but you’re not sure why. “I’m glad.”

Jungkook drives you to toward the movie parking lot—a grassy field with neat rows of cars guided by a parking attendant in a bright, orange vest—and Jungkook reverses in the directed spot in the middle row of cars. You can see the screen perfectly, but only out of the back window from the way he parked. That does little to deter your excitement, though.

“The screen is huge!” you say in awe, twisting in your seat.

You look on as it plays movie trailer previews for remaining months of the summer, and the thought flits across your mind just how many you might get to see with Jungkook before your time was up.

“You’ve never been to a drive-in?” Jungkook asks. “We gotta make this one extra special, then.”

You look over at him with an eyebrow quirked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Jungkook begins, unlocking the car doors, “I’m pulling out the big guns.”

He hops out and heads to the trunk of the car. You scramble after him, shutting the passenger door behind you and joining him where he stands with the trunk popped open. You watch as he lowers the second row of seats flat after moving the dolphin plushie and a conveniently-packed duvet. You look at him with raised eyebrows as he unfolds the blanket across the flattened seats, making you two a perfect spot to lay in the back of the car while watching the movie.

Jungkook sees the suspicion on your face and chuckles, scratching the back of his head. “I just thought we might want to be comfortable if we’re going to be watching a movie for two hours, you know?”

You ignore him and climb in through the open trunk, settling down with the dolphin as a cushion for your back. “Where’s the popcorn?” you ask, laughing. “This is perfect.”

Jungkook holds up a finger. “One moment, m’lady.”

He takes off from the car and you sit up on your elbows, watching him jog up to a stand at the front of the drive-in parking lot that was selling snacks and drinks for the occasion. You pinch yourself again for good measure when he comes back a few moments later, reminding yourself of your pact. Just because you two were alone, in the back of Jungkook’s car, laying down, about to watch a movie together, alone, didn’t mean anything!

The scent of butter and salt fills your nostrils as Jungkook returns, handing you the popcorn and drinks as he climbs into the trunk and settles beside you. He sits cross-legged and digs into the pockets of his chinos to reveal candy in both hands.

“Sour straws or gummi bears?” he asks.

“Gummi bears, but I want a sour straw, too.”

Jungkook laughs. “Agreed.”

As you two dig in, the beginning of the movie flickers onto the big display screen. People pass by Jungkook’s car on their way to the food stands at the front, and you and Jungkook settle against the giant dolphin propped on the back of the front seats.

“I’ll have to figure out a way to repay you for all of this,” you say quietly in between sips of fizzy Coke. “You keep paying for everything before I can offer.”

“Would you rather us go Dutch?” he asks in the dark.

He’s incredibly close to you—his forearm brushes against yours when he moves because the dolphin only spans so far when you lay it down. It wasn’t the biggest prize, because you didn’t want to carry around a massive plushie, but it certainly wasn’t the smallest they had, either.

On screen, the heroine is introduced going about her daily life. She gets ready, brushes her teeth and hair, puts on her makeup for a normal day at school. When she pulls up to school, a sleek, black motorcycle is parked in her usual spot. A little ways from it, she notices the culprit—an extremely handsome guy holding a bike helmet within the crook of his arm as a swarm of cheerleaders surround him like he’s the coolest thing since sliced bread.

“Yeah,” you say honestly. “I mean, I hate the thought of depending on other people.”

Jungkook turns to look at you as you say this, and when you glance at him, there’s an emotion plastered on his usually friendly face that you can’t pinpoint.

“Consider it our first date,” he says finally, with a shrug. “Then you don’t owe me anything and you’re not depending on me, either.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. “Oh—um—well—”

Jungkook tilts his head down as he bites into a sour straw, pulling the candy away from his clenched teeth so it makes a small pop as it separates. He nudges you with his shoulder that is already leaning against your own.

“Did you see that?” he asks with a chuckle. “The stunt doubles are so noticeable in this movie—they have totally different builds than the main characters.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and manage a breathy laugh. A date. The word echoes within the chambers of your mind, repeating over and over like he just yelled it into a cave at the top of his lungs. It reverberates around your skull until you feel your skin buzzing from the meaning.

So much for your pact when he was saying things like that so casually. God, you couldn’t wait to get Jihyo alone to tell her everything.

The movie continues, and a glance down at your phone lets you know that it’s only thirty minutes in when Jihyo finally texts you back.

Jihyo 7:36PM : Hoseok and I aren’t going to make the movie. We’ll just explore the boardwalk until you two lovebirds are done and then we can get food!

You relay the information to Jungkook—leaving out the lovebirds bit. He nods in understanding.

“I figured they wouldn’t—but I’m glad we’ll get to see them,” he answers. “Hoseok texted me a while ago and said Jihyo’s engine light was on because she slams on her brakes too much. He thinks he has whiplash.”

You giggle. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“My little mom-car doesn’t seem so bad now, does it?”

“I told you I liked it! I would totally pick my kids up from soccer at 6PM on Thursday in this!”

Jungkook throws a half-popped kernel at your forehead. “Rude.”

“You said the mom thing first!”

“Because I’m allowed to pick on Cheryl—she’s mine.”

“Cheryl?!” You dissolve into a fit of giggles. “Please—don’t tell me—”

Jungkook takes the weight of his shoulder pressed against yours and pushes you over with it before you can finish your sentence. You lean away from him but bring the force back with your own shoulder, fighting him for more room on the dolphin-plushie-turned-back-rest.

You two battle for a second, pushing against each other like children until Jungkook lifts his arm up and around you, cocooning you in his warmth and bringing you to rest fully on the right side of his body. He’s leaning a little against the corner of the back of the SUV and you are nestled within his side body, feeling the heat of his chest pressed against your cheek. You breathe in and out before you realize that maybe, you should move.

You go to sit up, but Jungkook says, “Wait, stay. You’re warm.”

It’s not you that’s warm—your face, sure—but Jungkook’s body feels like your own personal heater. You try to relax, leaning against him once again in a better cuddling position with your head resting on Jungkook’s chest, right below his collarbones. You can hear his heartbeat this way—thudding what you think is a little faster than normal underneath the layers of his thin hoodie and T-shirt.

“Are you comfortable? Can you see?”

You’re not sure, but you think he sounds a little breathless—from the sudden change in your positions, or the tussle before, you can’t tell which is the culprit.

“Yeah,” you say, shifting a little so that you’re more on your side rather than just leaning over onto him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” he says, and again, it sounds like there’s a hint of smile in his voice.

You can’t focus on the movie after that. Jungkook is too close, his intoxicating scent swirling into your nostrils with every inhale, your head rising up and down with each breath he takes. This was what friends did, right? This was totally friendly. He just wanted you to be comfortable. You repeat this to yourself as Jungkook’s hand—that was once just dangling over your shoulder—begins to trace soft patterns into your side.

You close your eyes, focusing on slowing the thumping of your heart, timing your inhales to let him know that this is okay. This is totally fine. You aren’t freaking out. You’re just here, enjoying everything that Jungkook had to offer you.

It’s fine. He’s fine. You’re fine. Maybe he was just touchy—some boys were like that, after all. Some friendly relationships included tons of skinship. You just weren’t used to it, and you needed to quickly acquaint yourself with the fact that this was how it would be with him if you continued to hang out.

Before you know it, you’re so lost in your thoughts you don’t catch most of the end of the movie. In fact, you don’t even realize it’s over until the credits are rolling and people are moving around you again, the sounds of car doors and trunks slamming as people get ready to move onto their next activity.

It’s only 9PM, but it’s dark outside—the blues of the sky that had enticed you so much once before had faded to an indescribable navy, a blue so deep that it looked black. If you focused, you could see the minute twinkling of stars past the stadium lights on the outskirts that blink on after the movie is over so everyone could exit in a timely and visible fashion.

Jungkook yawns, patting your side. “I think I fell asleep for a moment—I was so comfortable here.”

He laughs in spite of himself, and you give him a breathless chuckle in return. “Sorry if I made your side sore.” You get off of him, scooting over to give him a little room to sit up straight.

“Sore?” he asks incredulously. “Y/N, you’re like a feather. I’m not that breakable.”

Boy, did you know. Thoughts of his muscular stomach flash in your mind, and you will them away. He watch him reach up to close the trunk as people begin to move outside of the car, cocooning you two back into a comfortable darkness from the tints on the back windows.

“Still.”

“Still, what?” he says. There’s a small silence that ensues. “You’re so nervous around me. Is it me?”

“What?” you say, furrowing your brow. Your skin pricks with the same nervousness that you are about refute. “I mean—”

“I know I’m pretty standoffish at the pool, but I don’t mean to be that way,” he admits. “I just felt like I was in this new place with all of these established relationships and rules. You have Jihyo, and well, Hoseok and I are close, but we’re not best friends.” He pauses. “I was really surprised when Jihyo invited me out with you all.”

“Surprised,” you repeat quietly.

His words absolutely contradict the Jungkook you thought you knew. But maybe that’s how it would always be—you realizing he had his own motives and reasons for being the way he was, and you not understanding a bit of it until he decided to divulge you in them.

“Yeah, surprised,” he nods. “I feel out of place, here. If I’m being honest.”

“But you live here.”

“I don’t have any friends though, because I’m gone for nine months out of the year,” he says, shrugging. “I didn’t have any in high school, either. It was just—I don’t know. I didn’t like it here, so I didn’t see a reason to have any ties.”

You can’t really wrap your head around it, but you realize Jungkook is being vulnerable to you in this moment. You don’t want to make him regret it, so you reach out to him—the closest thing to you is his hand, resting on the duvet between you two—and you run your fingers over the soft skin in a timid, unsure fashion.

“Jihyo and I will never say no to new additions to our friend circle,” you say with a smile. “It gives us reasons not to kill each other if someone else is watching.”

Jungkook chuckles a little, holding your gaze. The trunk of the car is still closed, and most of the crowd has dispersed to other parts of the beach where the boardwalk is still alive and filled with weekend nightlife.

“That’s good to know,” Jungkook says softly, looking down at your hands on the blanket. He slides his underneath yours and links his fingers through the spaces in between.

“Y/N—” he says, leaning closer to you, “—thanks. Really.”

You lean closer as well, feeling the magnetism of your two bodies being pulled together in the dark. Your breath comes out in unmeasured puffs, threatening to give away how nervous you are. You’re glad Jungkook can’t really see you anymore, and you’re certainly glad he can’t hear the unsteady beat of your heart as your faces inch closer and closer. As the quiet of the night cocoons you two like a soft blanket, there is no noise other than your heartbeat in your ears as Jungkook’s mouth hovers over your own.

You feel his unsteady sigh outwards as he says, “Are you sure you’re not—”

You use your remaining courage to stop him before he can finish his sentence, closing the distance between your mouths into a soft, sweet kiss. It stays that way for a moment—closed-mouth and innocent—before Jungkook brings his hand to the back of your head and deepens it, pressing his mouth hard against your own in a way that is a command all in its own.

Your lips part involuntarily and Jungkook’s tongue presses softly against the ridge of your mouth, tracing the outline until he is exploring the inside with ease and expertise. As your tongues lace together, you find yourself placing heavy hands on his chest, slightly wrinkling the collar of his shirt with your nails before you slide your hands up and over his shoulders and hook them together behind his neck.

Your head tilts to the right and you push back against him, following the energy and putting it into the most passionate kissing session you’ve had—well, ever. Jungkook places his hands on your hips and pulls you over him so that you are straddling his waist, his experience showing as he places you right on top of his hardening member. You have no choice but to feel it between your thighs and the thin material of your bike shorts—a decision you certainly didn’t realize would come in handy when you’d picked them out a few hours ago in your bedroom closet.

You two kiss and kiss and kiss, getting lost within each other for what feels like hours. You can’t allow yourself to disassociate and think about anything other than what was happening in the moment—although there was a part of your brain that couldn’t believe it was happening, surely.

You were kissing Jungkook. Jungkook was kissing you—no, it was more than that. He was touching you: his hands making a lazy trail up your back, in between your shoulder blades and over the hump of your shoulders until they entangled in your hair and kept your mouth criminal to his. He was breathing you in: making a trail away from your mouth, down your jaw and neck, where he settled on sucking small, reddened splotches into the thin skin just around the collar of your pullover. You want more of him, but more would have to wait.

Jungkook pauses underneath you, much more intact with the real world than you are because he shushes you politely so that you can hear it: the tell-tale sound of your phone humming the vibrations of an incoming call.

“It’s Jihyo,” he says in the darkness, allowing the brightness of your screen to illuminate your faces, inches apart. He hands it to you, and you clear your throat in an attempt to sound less breathless than you actually are as you greet your friend.

“Where are you?” she asks—but it sounds more like a demand. “I know the movie is over by now. You haven’t answered my texts. Are you okay?”

“What?” you say but shake your head. “I’m fine, sorry. Jungkook and I were trying to find our way out of the theatre parking lot. It’s really crowded over here so we had to wait for our turn.”

In the light of your phone pressed against your cheek, you can just barely make out Jungkook’s knowing smirk in the dark.

“Hoseok and I are waiting at Pier 14. Did you two still want to get dinner?”

Jungkook nods in answer, leaning forward a little to press his lips softly against the center of your throat while you talk. You take a calming breath in and out as he mouths at the skin there, swiping his tongue over the space lightly before continuing to kiss away any of your troubles. You close your eyes again, feeling like you’re disappearing under his soft touch before you realize Jihyo is still waiting on your answer.

“Dinner sounds good,” you manage. “Text me an address—you and Hoseok can choose. I don’t care.”

You hang up before she can protest. Your mouth hovers over Jungkook’s, lips pressed together in a solid line.

“That wasn’t very nice,” you admonish him, placing your hands on his firm shoulders. “I was trying to talk.”

“I know,” he says in a soft tone, breathing out a laugh. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“You better.”

He gives you one last lingering kiss—one that steals the breath from your lungs and makes you feel lightheaded before he lets you go. You feel warm all over as you two crawl toward the front of his car, returning to your seats while stealing knowing glances at each other.

You don’t want to dwell on the thoughts too much, but a lot had changed in the last hour that you couldn’t even wrap your head around, much less understand and come to accept. Your lips tingle as your mind flies through the events again, attempting to see you and Jungkook from a third-person perspective in your mind, but really just focusing on the way it felt when he was kissing you, touching you, breathing you in.

You knew one thing for certain, though: your pact with yourself was up. You weren’t just diving into the shallow anymore. You were in the deep end.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry XIX

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), trauma, violence, attempted assault, some elements untagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: The reader finds herself at an impasse.

Note: Things are heating up and we're starting to go full force over here <3

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

Days passed in idle anticipation. You kept Elina locked up with you and she grew more restless by the hour. When Lord Zemo came at night, she was happier but your sense of dread and impatience only grew. When the retinue arrived, you only wanted them to leave, but knowing who was roaming just floors below, you were anxious to strike first.

The baron was ever the voice of sense. Zemo was no beacon of morality, you knew that, but his honesty made him respectable. You considered how blatant he was in his intentions as compared to those other noblemen who painted their bad deeds as gifts. Perhaps he wasn’t entirely trustworthy but he didn’t trying to make you think otherwise.

You did your best to keep your daughter occupied with her many toys and quiet songs hummed out of tune. You bounced her on your hip as best you could with your cane in your other hand and crawled around with her like a dog. She was only calm when she slept as she longed for the sunlight that taunted her through the window.

You began to wonder how long the men would stay; how long you would be expected to stay hidden. Zemo mentioned vengeance and you dreamt of it every night. It was the only thing that kept you from quaking in fear and panic.

Tess brought your dinner and you placed it on the low table and sat on the floor with Elina and ate. You gave her tiny morsels to chew on or toss back at you. She was an energetic kid, stubborn and strong, and seemed to find fun in even the most dull tasks. You hoped she would grow up to be happier than you. Surely, she’d be more bold and more blessed.

As you chewed on some chicken, you heard that familiar knock on the door. Tess always gave a tiny tap and called through the wood but Zemo always gave that rhythmic beating. It was the latter, he was early that day. It made you worry as you left Elina to squeeze a piece of sweet potato and stood with your can dug into the wood.

You crossed to the door and turned the latch slowly. You opened the door and leaned heavily on the wooden stick, “well, you are earl--” your voice hung in the air as you stared at the familiar face, though it wasn’t Zemo.

You pushed the door but the man caught it and kept it two inches from the frame as he came closer. Peter’s hand trembled as he clung to the wood and gaped at you. He shook his head and blinked dumbly. The two years had given his face character and his shoulders a little more width.

“You’re alive?” he breathed.

“You can’t-- you have to go,” you pushed the door with a grunt, “please, go.”

“I thought… I thought you were dead,” he croaked, “I thought I--”

“Go away. Please!” you begged, “I can’t talk to you.”

“Or you won’t talk to me?” he challenged as he shoved his foot between the door and the frame, “how--”

“How did you find me?” you gasped.

He lowered his eyes and guiltily and clamped his lips shut. He sniffed and looked at you again, “I thought Zemo was hiding something from us. I followed him last night and listened… I couldn’t hear anything, I only saw him come here and knock.”

“No one else can know,” you said, “you can’t-- please go and don’t tell anyone.”

“I wouldn’t but-- I want to talk to you,” he insisted.

“You can’t. It’s too dangerous,” you argued, “you must go. If Zemo discovers you--”

“I don’t care if he does. Don’t you understand, I--I-- I thought I killed you.”

You were silent as you stared into his face. You saw the pain in his eyes, the shock laced with relief. But it was all tinted with the guilt he’d carried since that day. The false guilt you’d given him.

“I’m sorry, Peter, it was the only way out--”

“My aunt cried everyday for you and she never let me forget what you said to me. I never could forget,” he hissed.

“I know, but you have to--” Elina made a noise as she came over and clung to your leg, smearing food down your skirt. Peter looked at her and his lips parted in surprise, “no one can know about her.”

He nodded and gulped. He looked up and down the corridor. “I wouldn’t tell but I can’t go until we talk, I…” his voice cracked, “I need to tell you I was wrong. I lied.”

“El,” you bent to wipe her face and lifted her, “please, stay here,” you bid Peter as you turned and hobbled across the room.

You placed her in her cot, thought she only began to fuss, but you shoved a stuffed caribou into her hands and left her to poke its eyes. You went back to the door and found Peter staring at your cane.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, “that’s my fault,” he nodded to the cane, “and that,” he looked to the scar down your face, “I saw it. I tried to follow you that day but I wasn’t fast enough and you were--”

“No, it wasn’t you. I said it was because I could. I couldn’t tell the man who made me do this so I told you instead. That was unfair and unkind,” you blinked away tears, “and I hurt more than just myself.”

He mulled your words and picked at his sleeve. He dressed finer than the last you’d met, “I didn’t mean what I said to Barnes. You were sweet to me and my aunt told me what you were, he told me you were worse, but I didn’t truly care. I only knew he was hurting you and I was making that worse so I thought if I stayed away, he’d stop.”

“No one can stop him. No one. Those men, they cannot be stopped. They are evil in the flesh, they are borne to greed and cruelty. They only see what they can get, not what they can give because they won’t ever be denied--”

You heard a clamor, the pounding of footsteps from the stairway, and the frantic breathing of whoever was approaching. You opened the door further and pulled Peter inside. You shut the door and leaned against it with him as you listened and watched through the crack.

“Away, away,” you heard Melinda’s airy pleas as she swept past your door, “please, sir, away!”

“I just want to play a little game,” the deep voice made your blood curdle then the realisation of what he was doing made it boil even hotter. You gripped your cane as Peter frowned at you, “come here, pet, I don’t bite.”

Melinda squeaked as Lord Rogers’ footsteps slowed and you heard the struggle that followed. The muffled collision of her body against the wall, the small girl’s broken breath as it was knocked from her, and his lewd growl as he pounced.

You pushed Peter away from you and tore open the door. They were closer than you thought. Just against the wall opposite your room. Lord Rogers’ body shielded the girl’s body almost entirely. You raised your cane without a second thought and brought it down on his shoulders.

As he exclaimed and staggered, you hit him again, the time in the back of the head. You swooped your cane down and banged his knees so that he fell onto the stone. You hit him again in the side as he wheezed and you stood over him.

“Bastard! Bastard!” you hit him as the young maid and the other lord watched in shock, “how dare you? You beast!”

Peter grabbed your arm and stopped you as Rogers rolled onto his back and coughed. He groaned as he reached to his head and you were pulled away from him. You struggled with Peter as you wanted badly to hit him again.

“Melinda,” you said as you struggled, “go fetch the baron. Now!”

She skittered off like a mouse, careful to tiptoe around Rogers as he sat up and gripped his right shoulder where you’d hit him. He chuckled as he looked up at you. He grinned beneath the trickle of blood on his lips.

“Oh, well, what a treat this is,” he mocked, “the whore lives.”

“You’re vile,” you snarled, “I should bash you like the snake you are.”

“Parker,” he spoke to the man at your side, “hold her for me.” He grunted as he pushed himself up and stumbled a little on his feet, “let us remind her of who she is… oh, Barnes might come out of his rooms for this.”

He reached to his belt but Peter let you go. You looked over at him and he crossed his arms and shrugged. You gripped your cane tight and swung it again. The strike caught Lord Rogers across his chin and the next in the tender flesh of his side. You jabbed his chest so he was again on his back but he could barely get his arms up to keep away the storm of blows.

When he was limp and prone before you, you slowly lowered the cane. You quivered as you stared down at what you’d done. His breaths came in rattles. You leaned on your right leg as your left shook and you lifted the carefully carved stick.

You pulled the silver topper until it dislodged and revealed the long silver blade. Peter caught your wrist as you raised the dagger.

“Don’t, it’ll change you. It’ll make you as bad as him,” he whispered.

You looked at him and your hand shook. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks and you heard Elina murmuring, louder and louder as she wondered where you were. You sheathed the knife and plunked your cane down on the stone.

Footsteps drew you back to the end of the corridor as Zemo appeared from the stairwell. His face dropped as he saw you standing over Rogers. He took a breath but did not look angry.

“Well, I did hope to delay this a little longer,” he said as he approached, “but that Rogers was ever the petulant pest.”

“I’m sorry, he--”

“Oh, I can guess at it,” he nodded to Melinda as she followed meekly behind him, “I’d have done it myself if I had the displeasure of witnessing his lechery.” He came up to Peter and stopped, “but I will do what I must.”

“He won’t hurt us,” you said, “Peter… isn’t like them.”

“But he is loyal to his kingdom,” he pointed at Peter’s chest harshly.

“I am a viscount. Not a duke or earl even. I serve men like that on the floor because I have to, not because I want to,” Peter countered, “I have no lealty to the men who leave women like this.” He looked at you and bowed his head, “but I will admit I am not innocent of it.”

Zemo looked at you and stilled your hand as it was still shaking. "Do you vouch for him, lady?"

"He is a good man. If anything, I have drawn him unjustly into this mess," you said, "I knew you wanted to wait longer--"

"No use in apologies," Zemo grasped your shoulder and squeezed, "this stalemate would not have lasted forever. I am not entirely unprepared."

Elina began to bawl and Zemo brushed past you. He returned with her in his arms, rocking her until she quieted. He cradled her cheek with a mournful gaze and his lips curved for just a moment.

"Be quick, we must leave before the moon. We will move the lord out of the corridor and be away before they can discover him," he said, "by the morning, the castle should be empty but for our foreign visitors and it will take them some time to return to their home with news of such catastrophe."

"Is he dead?" you asked as you looked at Rogers' boots.

"An ox like him? Not yet, just annoyingly on the precipice," Zemo replied, "if we're fortunate, he'll have some lingering detriment but we cannot kill him. That would be an unforgivable mistake."

You heard a grumble and a croaky chuckle. Zemo turned and you looked down on the dazed duke.

"That is a beautiful girl," Lord Rogers rasped, "looks like her father."

Zemo's pupils turned to pinpoints and he handed you Elina. He bent and knocked Rogers across the cheek so that his head bounced off the stone. The baron shook out his hand as he stood straight and his nostrils flared.

"Lord Parker, was it?" He looked to Peter, "help me move him. We haven't time to spare."