#i would LOVE to just do work for a semester but nope! not in the cards it looks like

[autumnoakes]

me: i'll join my uni's co-op program! it gives me work experience, and access to jobs i normally wouldn't do since they'd usually be outside of my skillset and experience

job search sites: oh yeah btw you'll only see at most 4 jobs for your field each semester because all the jobs we have are for business, IT, or engineering students and you are none of those so you can't even apply to these because it involves an entirely different skillset than you are developing in your bachelor of science program. have fun!

me:

[flawssy-227]

The Babysitter | Joel Miller x F!reader

hello :) first time writing/posting a pic in actual years (first time on this blog also). hope you enjoy. please leave some feed back!

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader, no outbreak au! Sarah lives! slight age gap

summary: you baby sit for Joel and the two of you can't keep your hands off each other

warnings: slight age gap, dirty talk, babysitter kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, m!receiving oral, mentions of dicks... I think that's all

word count: 1.9

rating 18+

The sun had long faded in Austin, the only light in the Miller’s living room was coming from the floor lamp and the television, which was on but turned down low so you wouldn’t disturb Sarah. You had just put her to bed at Joel’s request. A short text sent to you earlier, knowing that you’d be babysitting a little longer than normal on Tuesday night.

Gonna be a late one. Sorry princess.

You’d simply given him a ‘thumbs up’, not really minding hanging out with your favorite 8 year old. Your afternoon had been wildly enjoyable with Sarah–she was way too mature for her age and it was probably inappropriate how much you considered her a friend, but whatever, you’ve had a stressful couple of weeks and she was one of the only bright spots. Well, her, and her incredibly attractive father that you sometimes hook up with.

Things with you and Joel were… how should you put it? Complicated? 

You had started babysitting for Joel and Sarah during the first semester of your Master’s program at University of Texas, just a little over a year ago. You and Sarah fell into an easy routine–you would pick her up from school, help her with her homework, and give her some of the feminine energy she was surely missing with only having Joel and her Uncle Tommy around. And you really enjoyed it. You were never one for little kids, and at her age, you were certain she would be annoying as hell to deal with, but nope, Sarah Miller was intelligent and inquisitive, albeit a little headstrong. You admired her, and really respected Joel for doing his best practically on his own.

You and Joel also fell into an easy routine. One night of staying late and sharing beers led to you face down and ass up on his couch and having one of the best orgasms of your life. You both promised each other you would quit, not wanting to complicate anything since you and Sarah had such a close bond, but you quickly broke that promise, again and again and again.

After a few months of hooking up a couple nights a week, Joel told you he was seeing someone–Tess, an age appropriate mom from Sarah’s class and he wanted to pump the brakes on whatever it was the two of you were doing. You acquiesced, begrudgingly, but it was only a few weeks later that Joel said things didn’t work out and you ended up back in his bed, on his couch, and bent over the kitchen counter.

It wasn’t serious between the two of you. You had a lot going on with wrapping up the last semester of your Public Policy Master’s, and he was busy building his business and raising his daughter. But that doesn’t mean you would be opposed to something a little more serious developing. In fact, you were pretty sure you were in love with Joel. But he definitely didn’t need to know that.

You must’ve been completely zoned out as you didn’t hear Joel’s old pickup truck pull into his driveway before he entered his living room and called your name.

“Hey princess,” he said, that deep Texas drawl that made your insides melt flowing easily from his pouty lips. “How’s Sarah?”

“Perfect, as always.” You glanced up from the couch shooting a smile his way.

God, he loved your smile.

“She helped me make dinner and then we did her homework. I deep conditioned her hair, too,” you added. “You know, you gotta take her to a salon once in a while, Joel. You know, one that knows about black hair?” You had been bugging him that the 15-in-1 monstrosity he calls shampoo he and Tommy use would not work on Sarah’s curls.

Joel smirks to himself, absolutely loving the way you care about his daughter. “I’m workin’ on it, darlin’.”

A comfortable silence hits the room and Joel goes to his fridge to grab two beers. Your gaze is back on the TV, some old episode of Law & Order playing that barely has your attention.

“Where’s Tommy?” you ask, reaching for the beer without looking at him.

“Had a date.”

“Tommy Miller has a date? Now that is surprising.” You giggle as you take a sip of your beer. Joel tracks the way your throat looks as you swallow.

He takes his time to take in what you’re wearing. A sweater that tapers around your waist perfectly and a short black skirt. You look sexy, effortless. Joel realizes you always do. Like everything you wear is custom just for you.

“Is this how you dress for work, darlin’?” He lets his large fingers play with the edge of your skirt, barely grazing over your skin. “Kinda slutty,” he adds, smirking at your surprised face.

You school your features quickly and he knows he’s screwed by the sickeningly sweet smile that graces your face. You quickly place your beer on the coffee table in front of the couch and turn to face Joel. “Me? Slutty? No, Mr. Miller, I’m a good girl.”

Joel eyes you from head to toe so slowly that you feel little bursts of heat crawling over your skin. He frowns at you playfully, groaning exaggeratedly as he takes another draw from his beer. “Don’t know about that, princess. Good girls don’t wear slutty little skirts like this to work.” His hand slides up your skirt and grazes over the damp slit of your underwear before he tugs them down your legs. The low whistle he lets out sends a chill down your spine. 

“And good girls definitely don’t wear tiny little panties like this to work.” He brings your thong to his nose, lewdly taking a deep inhale that only makes your wetness grow greater. “Dirty girl,” he sighs out. “Trying to seduce your boss?”

You moan at the sight of him, it was so debauched, so dirty, but it only made you more eager to fall into whatever role play this was. 

“No, Mr. Miller, I would never try to seduce you. I promise I’m a good girl,” you plead. You watch as he absentmindedly toys with your damp thong, running his other hand over his growing bulge. You get an idea that’s going to drive Joel wild.

“Can I show you, Mr. Miller?” you ask, earning a quirked brow from Joel. “Can I show you just how good of a girl I am?”

Joel groans at how easily you fell into this dynamic tonight, not necessarily what he had planned when he came home. He spreads his legs and pats his thighs, “Yeah baby, show me how good you can be.”

You eagerly hop off the couch, taking a throw pillow with you and placing it on the ground and kneeling on it in between his legs. You let your hands rub across the tops of his thighs and give him a wide eyed look that he would almost call innocent if he didn’t know you better. You reach for the zipper of his jeans, grazing your fingers over his bulge before you pull his hard cock out and sigh dreamily. Joel definitely had the best looking dick you’ve ever seen.

Growing impatient at your slow pace, Joel grabs the back of your head and you instinctively stick your tongue out to lick at his tip. You groan at the heady taste of precum on the bulbous head. You slowly start to jerk him off, keeping your mouth only at his tip to tease him.

“You gonna show me how good little babysitter’s suck cock, princess?” he peers down at you, watching how your eyes flutter closed at his words. 

You let out a needy whine. “Yes, Mr. Miller.”

You inhale deeply, making debauched eye contact with Joel before you take as much of him as you can down your throat. Joel was big–thick and long in a way that your friends swore you were exaggerating. You’ve taught yourself how to take him down your throat, proud that you were able to go from taking a meager 4 inches of him when you first started hooking up, to now being able to brush against his trimmed hair at the base.

You can taste the sweat from his work day on your tongue as you start to move up and down. Your cheeks hollow out to make a suction and drool is pooling from your mouth. You’re trying not to gag, but the sheer size of Joel makes it damn near impossible. He looks down at you, eyes filled with something a little more than lust as he watches you swallow his cock further into your throat. Spit bubbles are pooling at the side of your mouth and your eyes are glassy with unshed tears. He shuts his eyes tight trying to stave off his orgasm–wanting to enjoy you just a little while longer. You release him with a pop and jerk him off as you start sucking his balls.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Mr. Miller?” you ask teasingly, voice already sounding a little hoarse from the exertion.

He looks back down at you, willing himself not to cum. He hums and nods the best he can, scared words will be too much for him.

You shift on your knees, readjusting as you gear yourself up to take him again. Joel thrusts slightly into your mouth, fitting perfectly and you moan around him, the vibrations making him twitch in the back of your throat. You push him deeper into your throat and Joel places his hand on the back of your head in a way that’s less forceful, and more caring. Like he’s just reassuring you that he’s there. He’s making little grunts and moans and you can’t help but drool a mix of your spit and his precum down onto his balls.

You look up at him and see his brown eyes softly looking back down at you. Way too sweet for what you’re doing.

You’re getting sloppier and sloppier, veering towards cock drunk as Joel tells you he’s about to cum.

“Where d’ya want me, baby,” he slurs, in his own fucked out state.

You can’t let up now with Joel being so close to finishing. You bare down, deep throating him to a point that nearly makes you gag, but you will yourself to power through it. Joel starts to thrust into your warm, wet mouth before he moans a little too loud and spills his cum down your throat. 

He’s so deep you barely taste him, only letting yourself up when you feel him relax underneath you.

You both catch your breaths for a moment and after a while, Joel pulls you up from your underarms and sets you over his lap. You almost forgot you weren’t wearing any underwear as your now soaking heat is pressed over his wet cock. Even soft it’s firm and thick. 

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes heavily. Brown eyes looking down into yours before he kisses you sloppily, tasting himself on your tongue.

You smile appreciatively, dropping your head to his shoulder and smelling the remnants of his cologne from earlier in the day. You’re insanely horny now but happy nonetheless that you made him this fucked out, feeling a surge of confidence at the thought.

“So,” you start, your smile breaking the warm silence between you two, “am I a good girl?”

Joel laughs, rubbing absent minded circles on your back. He thinks he loves you. “Yeah, princess, you’re the best damn girl around.”

**if you made it this far please leave a like, comment, reblog or a dm with some feedback! I want to get back into writing so this was just me dusting off the cobwebs... ty :)

Read more of their story

[eddiernunson]

"Do You Want One?" | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+

Summary: your cousin shows you around Hawkins High for your first day, and is surprised to say the least when her sweet cousin hooks onto Eddie Munson. Just seeing him brings a swoop to your stomach you've never quite felt before, and become desperate for more of him.

Warnings: late bloomer!reader, virgin!reader, mentions never having experienced lust of the sort or really understanding what it is, corruption!kink, little praise, taking of virginity, slight perv!eddie

Authors' note: I, myself didn't feel any sort of sexual attraction or lust until i was 15/16. I tried to write the reader innocent without being infantilized. Also, these photos are for aesthetics only, not much of the reader is described, except for height. Also, my editor pulled through, despite her busy schedule, thanks @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you! This is a birthday present to @bebe07011, always one of the first to read <3

Word Count: 9k

The subtle, yet annoying ring of your alarm yanks you out of your sleep, a sleep that took hours to settle into after anxious tossing and turning. A yawn overtakes your body as you sit up, looking around sleepily at the boxes that contain the contents of your room. You whine as the stars overflow your vision from the rubbing of your eye.

Your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth, tasting the mint of your mouthwash when your mom pushes a bagel into your hand. Most of the kitchen is still in boxes, just a few appliances on the unnaturally bare counters. “Hey, Aunt Karen just called and said Nancy will be here any minute.” She offers, and a part of you feels for the bags under her eyes.

“Thanks.” You say, garbled with a piece of bagel in your mouth.

“Oh, and Mike is being a little testy, so he probably won’t move from the front seat for you.” She laughs, shaking her head.

You shrug, not caring. “I’ve been in the backseat for this long.”

Two honks out the front announce their arrival, and you ignore the anxious reminders she hurriedly spits out as you grab your backpack by the front door, already filled with school supplies from Texas. You shout an I love you to her as the Wheelers’ Station Wagon comes into your sight from the swung open door, finally out of her worried clutches that you’ve been in from the last week straight.

True to Aunt Karen’s word, Mike gave a defiant look when Nancy demanded he get out the front seat. Again, you didn’t care. “Sorry Mike has a ruler up his ass.” Nancy apologizes, her smirk reaching your own in the rearview.

You roll your eyes, a signal that it really doesn’t matter to you.

Hawkins, miniscule in comparison to that of your old home, Houston, passes by in the windows and you huff a sigh out at how much smaller your world has gotten. Your town, your school…you wish you could go back and give a reality check to the girl who patronized Nancy for it on the phone.

As promised, Nancy shows you to the front office and your first few classes. Being the new girl in the middle of a semester is absolute bullshit, but at least it wasn’t Forks, Washington levels of bullshit. That level of attention would’ve had you crawling under a bridge. Thank God only one teacher asked you to introduce yourself to the class. The rest of them couldn’t even be bothered.

Nancy sits alone at lunch, a notepad in her hand next to a near empty lunch tray. One thing you notice is that this school is much more categorized than yours was. It felt straight out of a high school dramedy, one you would criticize for being cliché.

Oh. Maybe it does some have truth to it.

“Hey loner.” You greet her, your butt hitting the hard plastic chair.

“I’m not a loner.” She huffs, hand moving absentmindedly as she writes. “My news team is getting this week’s paper done, we usually get it done during lunch.”

You roll your eyes, having noted the empty space on her tray. “You work too hard.”

“Nope. If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.” She answers, her signature side smirk on her face. Sometimes, only sometimes, Nancy doesn’t really have a serious bone in her body.

You gesture to the cafeteria, opening your fruit cup. “So, tell me about your very categorized cafeteria.”

She laughs, pausing in the middle of the sentence she’s writing. “So. There’s the jocks/cheerleaders, the nerds, the band nerds, drama nerds, science nerds—"

“Those are different from the regular nerds?” You ask, eyebrow quirked.

“Yes.” She deadpans. “Those are the kids without a clique,” she points, a bunch of kids not interacting, shyly nibbling at their lunches. “And finally, where my brother sits. Hellfire.”

It felt dramatic, but the table definitely earned their last but not least position. They stand out from the crowd, not seeming to care about fitting in like everyone else so desperately does. From the looks of it, individually, none of them would fit in the crowd. As a group, they stick out like a sore thumb. They don’t even care.

Nancy seems to be speaking, but she fades into the background. While you tricked yourself into believing you were observing the table, it occurs to you your eyes are fixated on the head of it, your heart beating out of your chest as you stare at him.

Him.

“Who’s he?” You interrupt Nancy, watching as his long frizzy hair curtain over his face. You didn’t even know someone in real life could be this good looking, you were sure it was reserved for celebrities in magazines.

Nancy switches her glance back and forth between your slack jaw and wide eyes and him. “That’s Eddie Munson.” She answers, her voice calculated. “The dork that I complained about Mike copying, remember?”

Your tongue reaches out to lick your lips, staring at him distractedly. A hot feeling in the swell of your gut overwhelms your senses. “You described a wet-rat loser.”

Nancy huffs in abrupt laughter. “That’s cause he is!”

“Him?” You ask, this hot feeling starting to radiate. You notice it’s especially hot in your crotch, a sort of…want you’ve never felt before. You’ve never craved for anyone this badly.

Nancy laughs in disbelief, surprised to say the least that her sweet cousin is openly drooling over Eddie The Freak Munson of all people. “I can put in a good word, if you want.” She teases, smirking at the way your eyes widen in panic.

“No, no, please don’t.” You insist, your eyes finally flickering back to her.

“Fine, you can drool from afar.” She muses. “Oh, lunch’ll be over in a handful of minutes. What’s your next class?”

“History.” You answer, viewing your crumpled schedule. God, not another boring lecture.

Nancy bites her lip, something she’s clearly not willing to share with the class. You don’t ask, still trying to catch your breath.

She walks you across the school to the classroom littered with historical figures and maps. She salutes you, telling you she’ll see you in AP Calculus right after this one. The look on her face never leaves it, she’s always got a secret right under the surface, but this one seemed more entertaining than the rest.

When you enter the classroom, the teacher tells you there’s assigned seats in this one and lucky for you, there’s one seat left. She directs you to the far-left corner, signalling to the one on the right. You shyly ignore the looks on your new classmates faces, all of them observing the face of the new kid who started so late in the year.

New faces are always hard to ignore, it’s just human nature to stare. Still, your stage fright is present in the forefront of your mind.

Your teacher starts the lecture by introducing you as a new kid, offering a wave to everyone that turns their head to look at you. Why can’t teachers just learn to be normal?

Your head is turned down, leaning on your elbow as she starts to explain a concept you’ve already learned last year. Are they sure they put you in a grade 12 class? At least this will be easier than most. Suddenly the heavy door opens, and your heart stutters as the man who’s taken over your every thought stumbles into the room ten minutes late.

“Mr. Munson! How nice of you to join us!” She greets, her scowl indicating that it’s anything but.

“You are so welcome, Miss. Greyson.” Eddie answers, his voice dripping in a tenor tone that sends a shiver down your spine. Not a lick of sarcasm comes from him, answering as if she was genuine.

She sighs, closing her eyes in exasperation. “Just go have a seat.”

Something in you suddenly realizes that the only available seat is right next to yours. A thrill takes over you, biting your lip excitedly as he struts as if he has all the time in the world.

After a brief stint on the projector, Miss. Greyson instructs the class to open their textbooks and answer questions on the following pages. “You may work in pairs.” She answers the many raised hands, and the room is filled by the harsh sound of desks groaning against the floor.

You get up from your desk, leaning into the teacher as she gathers the laminated sheets she had just used for the lesson. “I don’t have a textbook, yet.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She replies, dropping her pile to shuffle off to her desk. “I completely forgot, in all the excitement.” She hands you the textbook that looks about fifteen years old, the spine cracked to oblivion. She leans in as you grab it, an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry about the placement of your desk, just ignore him. There was no one I hated in this classroom enough to place next to him.”

You resist the urge to raise an eyebrow, perplexed at her open disdain for him. It reminded you of the tone of voice Nancy had over the phone, wondering if the whole school was really this open about it. “I’ll live.” You answer, and she winks like you two share a secret.

Your textbook lands harshly on the desk, opening it to the page indicated in white chalk written on the blackboard. God, the reading is four pages, and the questions are a paragraph each. This much reading on the downfall of Mycenae? A jarring noise to your left surprises you, looking up to face his desk come closer and closer.

He leans over, a smile on his face that sends a thrill right through you. “So, how come I’ve never seen you around?”

He talks low, you spend the time hoping he doesn’t notice the goosebumps that trails over your skin. “Uh, I just started today.” You beg yourself to seem normal, to look him in the eyes like a decent conversationalist. You can’t bring yourself to, no matter how hard you try. Somehow you know when you finally look in those eyes of his, you’ll be too mesmerized to look away.

The printed words on the page make no sense, just a blur of boring text in black and white.

He leans back in his chair; you can feel his eyes planted on you. “Ah, makes sense. I would’ve remembered seeing your pretty face around.”

Oh my god he just called me pretty. Surely, he’s lying? Being in his line of sight and being considered good looking enough to him for him to even glance at was never in your wildest imagination, picturing him glazing right over you. Just a bug on the windshield. You gulp, pretending to be infatuated with the page in front of you instead of the man next to you.

“You shy?” He asks. In the corner of your eye, you see him leaning onto his elbow, his eyes staring a hole in your head.

Finally, you tear your glance off the textbook and onto him. God were you right about his eyes. How can a pair of brown eyes be so captivating? They’re a perfect chocolate brown, his mouth in a lopsided expression that sucks the air out of your lungs. “A little.” You admit, distracted by the sound of his fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk.

His limber fingers are dressed in chunky silver rings, the sight of his hands moving distractedly suddenly sends the heat you felt in your stomach earlier into a frenzy, the pull strong and overwhelming. “I can work with that.” A shy smile lands on your face, clenching your teeth as a method of resisting the urge to smile ear to ear. “Can I get a name?”

You tell him and hearing it from his lips is a vice and a half. “And you’re Eddie.” You say before he can introduce himself.

“So, my reputation precedes me.” He laughs, crossing his arms. “Or am I exactly like they said?”

You shrug. “Not exactly.”

His shoulders indicate a silent huff of laughter. “Care to expand on that?”

You shrug again. “You’re just…different.”

The look on his face indicates this answer isn’t good enough, but he doesn’t care to ask you to expand any further. As you work on your homework, finally settling your heartbeat and breathing rate, he writes in a notebook littered with graffiti. His left foot rests on the edge of his desk, the book resting on his thigh as he writes with the dull pencil.

He’s not doing any homework, but he’s at least letting you work on yours. The bell finally rings, dismissing you from your class and the room fills with chatter as everyone packs their bags. “You know where your next class is?”

You shake your head; having told Nancy you could work it out on your own. “Uh, no. It’s AP Calculus with Mr. Warner.”

“Mr. Warner.” He muses, his notebook in one hand and carrying a small metal tin. “Here, I’ll walk you.”

You pause, gulping as your bag rests on one shoulder. “You don’t have to do that.” You insist, suddenly realizing he’s about a whole head taller than you.

He smiles, his gaze making you feel…hot. “I didn’t ask, sweetheart.”

The way you gulp, your wide eyes darting back and forth between his, your teeth biting on your bottom lip nervously, Eddie was startled at the physical reaction and it was all going straight to his dick. The urge to shove his thumb between your pretty, plump lips is overwhelming, to say the least.

“Oh.” You answer, fingernails digging into the strap of your backpack. “Then lead the way.”

Eddie shakes his head, starting down the hallway to the other end of the school. As soon as he reaches the classroom, he turns around, leaning against the locker on his arm, neck hunching over you. Oh god, he’s gorgeous. “Will you let me take you out on a date, tonight?”

Every bone in your body wants to say yes, fingers just itching to reach out and touch his lithe hips. “My mom won’t let me go out on a Monday.”

So, that was not a No. “I would’ve asked for Friday, but I can’t wait that long.”

His admission drives you crazy, that heat ever present. Things like this just don’t happen. “Neither can I.” You admit, feeling scared of the rush that overwhelms you, yet scared of the idea of it never happening. You think quickly, biting your lip. “Think you can pick me up from my cousin’s house?”

He squints, crossing his arms as he leans against the locker. “Who’s your cousin?"

“Nancy Wheeler.”

His eyes bug out of the sockets, sighing in disbelief. “You’re cousins with Wheeler?” You nod, wondering if there’s any unspoken animosity between them. “I’ve dropped her kid brother off a few times, I know where she lives. You gonna tell your mom where you’re heading out for the night?”

You shake your head, sure he knows the answer, already.

Eddie huffs, hoping the crotch of his pants won’t give him away. “You ever snuck out before?”

“No.” You answer, looking up as the bell rings. “But I’m sure I can manage.”

You can’t place the expression on his face, somewhere between bewildered and amused.

For the record, it’s pure lust, having just met you and he’s already accidentally convincing you to sneak out for him. He wants you to, wondering if one day you’ll go so far to skip class to have fun with him under the bleachers.

His eyes leer down your body, watching as your skirt dances across your bare thighs while your feet can’t stay in place. He plays with his fingers absentmindedly, just barely resisting the urge to move them past the barrier and watch your face melt in pleasure.

“What time?” Eddie asks, eyes flickering up to your sweet face.

You think about it, knowing you’ll need time to grab at least a dress and get ready at the Wheelers’. “7:30.”

Eddie laughs, turning away from you and back down the hall to where you presumed his class was. “Pick you up at 7.”

“I-I said 7:30!”

“I’ll honk twice!” He answers, hand in his pocket like he didn’t just glue you into place.

The echo of his voice suddenly reminds you the halls are empty, only a few feet away from Mr. Warners classroom. You know more than anyone that AP Calculus students just aren’t late. Maybe he’ll give you grace on your first day.

You ignore the way every set of eyes switch to you, looking around the room for an empty seat. Luckily, Nance has saved one right next to you. “Hi, sorry. Couldn’t find it.”

“That’s alright, take this and have a seat right next to Miss.Wheeler, there.” He offers, gesturing to your cousin.

When the lecture ends and he assigns homework, she gets right to the point. “So, how was History?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “You knew he’d be there.” You accuse, her grin affirming your assumption completely. “A warning would’ve been nice.”

“Not like you had to speak to him.” Nancy sighs, opening her textbook to the page indicated.

You stare at her pointedly, opening your book to a random page. “I sat next to him.”

Nancy instinctively knows something is up, seeing something was on your mind. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“You’ve barely given me a chance.” You comment sarcastically, looking over at her expectant face. “He…he asked me out.”

To say Nancy is surprised at this development would be simply, an understatement. “I’m sorry?”

You grin, finally letting that smile you’ve been hiding take over. “He’s picking me up at 7.”

“Like your mom will let you go out on a weekday.” She squints, knowing your mom’s tendencies to make you prioritize school over anything else.

“…which is why I need you to cover for me.” You hesitate, grinning shyly when she gives you a look of utter disbelief.

“Seriously?” You nod, pleading with her silently. “Fine. But you owe me big.”

You promise to make it up to her.

When the bell rings signifying the end of the day, your heart beats rapidly as the time for your date comes closer and closer. Nancy said she wouldn’t be able to help with your conundrum of the fact that you’ll need a dress and a way to get from your house to Nancy’s.

As you sit next to her while she writes a rough copy of an article wondering who you could possibly get to drive you. You might be shit out of luck. Like an angel, a freckled redhead appears out of nowhere. “Nance, is that the cousin?” She asks, sitting right across from you.

From the look on Nancy’s face, you’re unsure how close they actually are. “Yep.”

“Cool! I’m Robin, over-sharer, anxiety ridden, fast talker. Nice to meet ya.”

You take her extended hands, sort of hypnotized by her warm green eyes. “You too.”

“Hey, Steve busy?” Nancy asks, a million thoughts behind her head.

“Probably not.” Robin offers, getting up from the table. “Why?”

“Oh, she needs a ride.”

Robin eyes you, a smirk landing on her face. “I can convince him.” She side eyes, gesturing for you to follow.

You follow her around the school to the front where you face a handsome lanky dude sitting impatiently as he waits for his friend. When he turns the window down to ask who you are, you realize he’s not just handsome, he’s hot. God, you’ll have to reprimand Nancy for leaving that detail out. “What’s with the guest?”

“She’s Nance’s cousin. She needs a ride, would you mind?”

“What am I, a chauffeur?” Steve asks, face shifting into a deep scowl.

You stop Robin from responding, having an immediate comeback. “I had to listen to my cousin bitch about you for hours. Hours. I think I deserve a little compensation for my time, don’t you?”

Steve smirks, looking from under the hair falling into his face. “Whatever, get in.”

“Where you need a ride to?” He asks as you get into his backseat.

“My house.” You pause, hesitating to say the second location. “Then Nancy’s house.”

Steve squints suspiciously at you in his rear view. “Why two locations?”

“So my date can pick me up tonight.” You admit, glancing out the window shyly.

Robin turns in her seat, jaw dropping open. “Isn’t this your first day?”

You shrug, biting back a smile. “So?”

“Oh shit.” She glances to Steve and back to you. “Who? Do we know him?”

“Um, probably.”

“We know him.” Robin states.

“Turn here, third house on the left…” you tell him, getting out of his car as soon as it stops.

When you get inside your house, you explain to your mom you are way further behind on school than you thought you were and will need some time to get caught up. She asks how late you’ll be, and when you say midnight, she doesn’t even hesitate to let you go.

Thank god you don’t lie, because this should not be this easy. Your hands ruffle through the box of dresses by your bed, grabbing at a few you know look good on you. They’re stuffed into your backpack, cursing yourself for not unpacking your makeup earlier. Hopefully Nancy will be nice enough to lend you some. (You doubt it.)

You rush a love you out to your mom and back into Steve’s back seat, out of breath from running up and down the stairs so damn fast. God, the things you were doing for your goddamn date.

Nancy only lives down a few blocks from you, thus the easy carpool your moms figured out until you get your car. God, in Houston you could’ve just taken a METRORail, you didn’t need a damn car. You thank Steve profusely, thankful for his saving grace.

You would rather tell every member of Hawkins Senior class personally a fun fact about you than go out with Eddie in the same thing you wore to school. You’re shy, not pathetic.

“You don’t owe him anything if you tell us who asked you out.” She calls out of her open window, face full amusement. “C’mon!”

You wait as they pull forward, Steve shaking his head at his best friend’s shenanigans. “It’s Eddie Munson!” You shout, laughing as she shouts a what in utter disbelief.

You wave as they take off, thinking you and her could actually be great friends. She has the kind of spunk you look for in a friend, the same spunk you’ve witnessed in your cousin. A large part of you wonders why they’re not friends.

When your Aunt Karen wonders why she wasn’t alerted, you give the disclaimer you’re just there to catch up on the schoolwork. Your Uncle Ted insinuates Houston must be so far behind Hawkins, and you grit a smile in response, an indent on the tip of your tongue from your teeth. Most of your lessons from the school day you had learned last year, already earning top marks on those questions. The only class that was remotely hard was calculus.

It was borderline hilarious.

You run up the stairs, stomach in knots.                                                                         

Nancy is nice enough to let you use her makeup, grinning up at you with amusement as you ruffle through the dresses you so hurriedly packed. She gives a definite yes to a dress you knew stands out but worry at the way it just brushes against your thigh, and the neckline dives deeper than what you’re used to.

When it cascades down your body, the look in her stark green eyes tells you everything you need to know. This was the dress. Nancy is kind enough to do your hair, talking quietly with you as she curls your hair.

The half hour leading up to 7 has you lying on her bed, freaking out. She does the homework you’re supposed to be doing, answering your questions vaguely. She tries to make you feel better, grinning cheekily as she never imagined her sweet cousin going on date with Hawkin’s resident metal head.

When two honks occur down the street, you sit up starkly at the sound, biting your lip as you glance to her. “Go. I’ll distract my parents.”

She does, asking them for faux advice in the living room as you sneak past them to the front door, closing it with the most care you could muster. When you don’t hear any commotions, that gives you the go ahead to run down the street to the large van that sticks out, headlights on as it sits idly.

You peer up at him through the passenger window, waving as he unlocks it for you. The lopsided smile on his face starts that heat up again, like he turns on burners all over your body at will. The door shuts behind you, and you smile up at him shyly when he turns down the music.

“You look…wow.” He compliments you, watching the way your eyes look up at him, that beautiful shine.

You assess his outfit, a leather jacket worn with a graphic t-shirt and jeans with rips at the knee. He looked casual, but damn fine regardless. Him losing his metal accessories and devil-may-care look probably would’ve disappointed you, anyway. “So do you.” You offer back, taking in the way he looks as he starts his van and pulls out.

“Thanks.” He winks, turning at a traffic intersection. “So, there are several places we can go, the movies, Hal’s Diner, Benny’s Burgers, bowling alley, the Drive In, up to you, sweetheart.” He insists, driving his van around the small town.

The only thing you want at the current moment is to be in close quarters with him, with the need to kiss him crazy, a need you’ve experienced far too much this quickly. There’s only one thing that allows that. “Drive in.” You decide, the prospect of those same close quarters sending a thrill down your spine.

Eddie signals left, the drive-in location the opposite way from where he’s been driving. “Sounds good, love.”

Eddie doesn’t ignore the way you subtly avoid eye contact from him, shyly looking at your near bare thighs. By the way, were you trying to get a rise out of him with this wonderfully slinky dress you’re wearing? The moment you crawled into his van he was overthrown by your sweet perfume and the way your dress smooths over your gorgeous curves. It’s too hard, impossibly hard, to resist leaning in for your sweet scent, to nuzzle his nose in your neck. The idea that you don’t want to leave the intimacy of the van any more than he does is enough to bring the urge to readjust the crotch of his jeans.

By the time he pulls up into the far corner of the lot, turning on his radio so it connects with the movie mid-beginning credit scene, you take in the sparce parking lot, only a few vehicles spread apart sporadically. Well, you wanted intimate. You wanted close, now you've got it. His freshly showered self with the mix of his cologne just adding fuel to the ever-increasing fire.

This fire suddenly sends the need to squeeze your legs together, not completely understanding the feeling, but there’s an inkling. An instinct that on some level you know what it is, but no one ever warned you it could be this intense.

The first act of the movie is shared by you and Eddie laughing at the same jokes together, grabbing candy from his hands when he offers it. You sip on a straw in a glass coke bottle, if only to calm the nerves combined with heat that has completely overshadowed any sense you seem to have. Eddie leans back comfortably in his fabric covered seat, a hand landing on your bare thigh.

Oh, that turned up the heat several notches. It starts to become clearer that this heat is what can now be more clearly defined as a want. A want for…more of his hands, further up, him, close to you. Closer.

As your thighs tense and clench under his touch, Eddie can’t hold back any more like he planned. His other hand is tucked under your chin, lifting your big eyes to look up at his. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, your mouth parting as you look up at him with stars in your eyes. “Can I?”

Your eyebrows furrow, breath stuttering as you peer up at him. You nod your head, glancing at his shiny pink lips. Every inch of air is tugged from your lungs as he leans forward, lips open as he places them on yours.

Eddie had every intention of kissing you delicately, the way he knows you deserve to be kissed, gently and patiently. As soon as the whimper leaves your throat and vibrates into his mouth, he forgets his good intentions. The kiss turns dirty, fast, the pressure of his spread hand increasing in the best fucking way, making your body fold involuntarily towards him.

Just when you’re enjoying the feeling of his tongue against yours, mewling pathetically against his lips, Eddie starts to kiss down your throat. You sigh, leaning back as that heat finally gains a resolve. Oh, god you're horny. Is that what that is? No wonder teenage boys are such perverts.

The combination of teeth and tongue is everything you needed and more; every muscle feeling like jelly as his lips and hands work like magic over you. Eddie licks a strip up to your ear, a startled and blissful moan filling up the car. He skips right past the pleasantries, past any inclination that you were anything other than wild for eachother. “You ever touch yourself, sweetheart?”

Only God knows why, but the dirty sentence just makes you hungrier for him, more eager. However, the answer to that jarring question is an honest and stuttered, “No.”

 Eddie separates from you, giving you a look, you can’t quite place. “Wait, really?” You confirm it, breathing heavily, gasping as his eyes visibly darken. “So, you’ve never cum before?”

The sentence makes your eyes widen, gulping at that gorgeous face of his. You think you know what he means, but you still need clarification.

“Orgasm, princess. Have you ever had an orgasm?” He asks, a hand placed on your cheek as he watches your reaction.

Oh. That’s what you thought. That’s an absolute and definitive, “No.”

His fingers increase their pressure, a reflex of from his reaction. God, you’re more innocent than he even knew. The idea of even teaching you what it means to get off sends a swoop through his gut, picturing you looking at him with those wide eyes as he corrupts you.

God, does he want to corrupt you. He wants to corrupt every inch of you, turn you into someone who begs him to skip class so you can guzzle on his cock. The way you stare up at him waiting for a response, eyes glazed over as you wait for him to continue kissing you, as if you don’t even remember you’re at a drive in to begin with.

His cock has never hurt so much from the blood pulsing through it, probably an angry red at this point.

“Can I give you one?” He asks, thumb starting to rub on your bottom lip again.

“An-an orgasm?” You stutter, voice squeaking through the question. He’s gorgeous, the way he stares down at you, those same chocolate brown eyes making that heat pool. Despite the fear, the arousal is greater. “Uh, sure.”

He smirks, watching your eyes dart back and forth nervously. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” You confirm, pulling him for the kiss you so desperately crave. You weren’t sure how it happens, your hands having a damn mind of their own. Despite him pulling away, he slips back into the kiss easily, the hand on your thigh and hand on your face making you feel dizzy.

You’ve had kisses before, but you knew you were missing something in them. At last, you’ve found it, desperately clinging onto his kiss. God, he’s good at making you turn into mush, relaxing into his seats almost completely.

His hand inches up your thigh, waiting for you to protest. Your breath hitches as he gets closer and closer. “I'm gonna make you feel so good.” He promises, his hot breath turning you into a liquid. Finally, his hand lands on the cotton of your underwear, his strokes tugging mewls into his open mouth. “Shit, you’re soaked, baby. You even know how much you want me? Probably confusing, hmm?”

He puts pressure at the top, rubbing small circles and it feels like fire is set to your center, gasping as your concentration falls apart. His fingers feel good, in a way you didn’t think was possible. Words in your mind echo the thought of how damn good he feels, mouth attempting to tell him, but nothing comes out but wanton gasps.

Eddie watches you wither in his chair, legs opening for him. Sure, giving you an orgasm is a fierce turn on, but knowing you’ve never experienced any type of pleasure or want is sent straight to his cock. He remembers learning how good it felt to start rubbing his cock when it got hard, how often he started doing it when he realized it led to something.

All he wants to do is turn you into a pervert, one orgasm at a time.

That same warmth that’s made home in your gut starts to build, your thighs tensing up when it occurs to you what its building to. “Fuck.” You gasp, Eddie humming at the swear that leaves your lips. “Close, and I haven’t even really touched you, hmm?” He muses, lips starting to add a second sensation on your neck with his hot and wet tongue.

He pushes your underwear aside, fingers finally making direct contact with the wet slick of your folds. “Eddie.” You gasp. The skin on skin makes your head spin, clutching onto his leather jacket with desire. The pleasure jumps up thirty notches, that build reaching an all-time high. Nothing has ever felt better, never so fantastic. Again, now you understand why teenagers are such perverts.

“Let me see you cum, I can feel it coming, baby.” He whispers, licking his lips.

He slides a finger deep in you, the sudden intrusion alien but welcome. On the edge, you become even more completely desperate for him. How was his finger even better? How was that possible? The feat thrills you, happily and willingly giving into everything he gives you. “Damn. Baby. You look so fucking good, think you can cum for me?”

His fingers hook within you, and it pushes you over the edge you’ve been staring down, stars invading your vision, the heat you’ve felt everywhere, all at once. Your tight entrance pulses around his fingers, twitching, not aware of the loud, whiny moans that Eddie’s sure the concession stand less than twenty feet away can hear, but he’s proud of it, grinning maniacally at his hard work.

He guides you through it, thrusting his fingers as he watches you come apart under his touch. When you stop shaking, his hand rubs your pussy gently, admiring the slick that is now pooled down your thighs and even onto his chair. He smirks, catching your eye when they finally open to face him. “How’re you doing, love?”

You forget to be shy in your smile, grinning maniacally as you grab him, yanking him in for a hot, wet kiss. It’s even dirtier than before, attempting to show him how grateful you feel for his magical fingers. “That was…so…good.” You mumble, smiling wider when you can feel him do the same.

“Feels good, hmm?” He asks, his fingers still stroking you gently.

“Jesus.” You answer, thighs convulsing involuntarily.

Eddie chuckles, amused that it takes you cumming to cum out of your shell. “You’re pretty like this, you know?” You roll your eyes, and he can feel the dismissal of his compliment. “Can I eat you out, baby?” It shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but it is. You barely know any of this terminology, and he can feel you tense up below him, your once liquid limbs turning to steel. “You have no idea what that means, do you, baby?”

You shake your head, gulping in the embarrassment.

“That’s ok. Of course, I don’t mind helping you.” Eddie doesn’t mind. When he says that he’s under exaggerating, not showing an ounce of his true feelings. How much does it take for you to squirm under his dirty words? How much patience does he have before he begs you to let him shove his hardened cock down your throat. How long will it be until you’re riding him like a porn star? If he was even slightly sleezier, he’d bet on it with someone. “I’d make that pretty pussy feel even better with my tongue.”

Oh. That sounds miles better than anything your brain could’ve come up with. You bite your lip, staring up at him with pure want. “You’d do that?”

“If you’re willing to come into the back with me.” He muses, nodding his head to his elongated trunk. You turn your head, facing a fleece blanket placed on the floor of the van with a few pillows. Did he do this for you, or is it always this nice?

Eddie doesn’t think you can get any cuter, but when you nod excitedly, starting to crawl into the back before he can say anything, he’s proven dead wrong. He’s never been so happy to be wrong. As you crawl, he watches your ass, your underwear still pulled to the side as the shine on your folds is still visible in the light of the movie.

He smiles, crawling as soon as you land awkwardly on the floor of the van. You sit cross legged waiting for him, one spaghetti strap fallen off your shoulder as you bite your lip anxiously. It doesn’t help Eddie that the strap on your shoulder starts to reveal a breast, just peeking at the top of the nipple. He’s barely seen you, just at the tip of the iceberg of touching you, and he’s about to pop from the anticipation.

How are you doing this to him so easily?

Eddie leans in for a kiss, something as soft as he wanted to give you the moment he saw you sitting in the desk next to his, but his hormones got the worst of him. He kisses each bare shoulder, admiring the way you relax into it.  His long fingers reach to the already fallen strap, fingers brushing as he tugs it down further, fully exposing the partially exposed tit. Your heart races, loud, too loud, in your temple and you wonder if he can hear it.

Eddie can’t, as heartbeats are usually inaudible to the naked ear. He can hear, however, the way those sweet breaths get louder, faster, and even more utterly pathetic for him. Eddie feels a goal take over his mind like a parasite, one he welcomes with a bed made. He plans to make you moan and whine louder so that everyone within ten miles can hear how good you feel, what a good whore you are—he’s getting ahead of himself.

Right now, he focuses on making you feel comfortable, helping you become at ease so you will never be self-conscious with him, never afraid of being too loud, or too eager. He can’t imagine ever thinking otherwise with you. He thought he knew the definition of impossible, but now he knows he had no clue.

Every sensible, distinguishable thought has left your brain, too focused on how good his tongue and teeth feel as he expertly works on your beaded nipple. His brain is going a million miles per hour, yours left behind in the middle of a desert. His hand guides the other strap down your shoulder, fully exposing your chest, the soft material falling so it sits wrapped around your hips.

Teeth scrape against the curve of your breast, as if his tongue is attempting to taste every inch, every centimetre of it. One hand smoothing the skin just below them. Wet kisses trail down your torso, tongue dipping into your navel, the sweet swell of your stomach, his dull nails digging into your soft flesh, the pain adding to the beauty of the mixed sensations.

Your pussy is raging in fire, shouting for the same attention he had been so generous at providing. He feels your thighs tensing, attempting to provide friction for yourself where you need it the most. “Does it hurt, baby?” He asks, mouth now at the base of your neck. “Does that sweet pussy hurt for it?” You nod, rubbing your thighs like a damn cricket. “Oh, I know, I’ll make it all feel better, don’t you worry.”

He admires your face, the way your eyes are closed with the muscles beautifully crumpled up.

“Lie down for me, and I’ll eat that fucking pretty pussy.” Without hesitation, you lay down, shifting your body so you can lie comfortably on the floor of the van.

When you do, his hands tug at the fabric around your waist, not pulling it off you, just clutching it like a vice. They slink under it, fingers tight on the waistband on your panties as he pulls them down your legs. As they leave your feet, pulling them around your heels, Eddie stares at the drenched middle, fingers playing with the thick slick that had gathered. Eddie seems to have a talent for stealing the air from your lungs, doing so as you watch him taste them. “Taste so fucking good, sweets.” He makes a show of placing them into his back pocket, shooting a wink when you give him a questioning look.

He adjusts himself onto his forearms, both hands landing on the top of your thighs as his head dives in between them. Your thigh muscles tense in his hold, begging him for mercy, any kind. “Eddie…please…I need…I need—”

He chuckles, bending over your wanton body. “I love how you say my name, but I’m gonna make you scream it.” He mutters, the scent of your arousal making his vision fizzle.

Finally, finally, his tongue touches you, relishing in the immediate whine that leaves your lips. He hums against you, enjoying the way your legs move restlessly. The first touches are so delicate, your heels digging in his (still) clothed back and grinding your hips to force more contact. “That’s a girl, take what you want from me.” He praises you, hand stroking your thigh gently.

The simple instruction drives your hips to grind more, Eddie’s tongue licking up your slick folds harder in response. At this point, fire isn’t a hot enough word to describe the heat in your pussy. Eddie starts to focus on your clit, his ears suddenly muffled by your thighs abruptly closing on his head. He starts a rhythm, switching back and forth, listening to how your sweet whines answer him.

Any thoughts occurring in your head are long gone, all out of your mouth before your brain even knows you’re thinking it. You wonder how you didn’t think of this, ‘how the first thing you thought when you saw Eddie not how good he would look between your legs’?

Answer: the best thing you’ve ever seen in your life. (Spoiler, there will be better things.)

Eddie is more than happy to play with you, to listen how you react to every touch he provides. So far, his favourite sound is when his tongue enters your sopping hole, fucking it gloriously. It was the first truly uninhibited sound he managed to pull from you. Every decision he made for you was purposeful, doing his damn best to send you over the edge again. He wonders how willing he is to put off his own pleasure for the sake of yours.

Honestly, to hear you come apart repeatedly is 1000% worth it to him, even if he has to rut against the floor of the van.

“Cl-close, Eddie.” You tell him, that sudden ending sneaking up on you. “So, so, so, so, good!”

Eddie takes your admission with pride, and as the stars invade your vision, your every limb tensing as you cum, he keeps going.

In your post orgasm haze, the over sensitivity of your pussy is overwhelming. However, his continuing and relentless mouth feels so good you relish in it, absolutely sure your legs will be sore from the constant convulsing. You whimper through a hushed and delayed swear, your hands weaving through his curls and tugging on his scalp.

His thumb meets your clit, rubbing feverishly and driving another orgasm out of you faster than you ever expected. His name is music to his ears as you shout it when the orgasm takes over you. “Fuck, Eddie, mouth feels…ah!”

His brown eyes open, nose nuzzling your clit as he stares at you through those darkened eyes. His tongue licks a long stripe, chin resting the mound of your pubic bone. “Think you can handle a few more?”

Your chest heaves, struggling to catch your breath as you lift your head up to face him.  Your head feels like a weight, too heavy on your neck. Your mouth opens to answer him, but the weight of your head wins, landing back on the van.

Eddie works your clit again, watching your breasts move up and down as you struggle to catch your breath. “Maybe not that many more, hmm? Maybe just one?” …if he’s strong enough to hold back from giving you two.

Stopping at this point would give you a break you need, but at the same time you can’t bear to, Eddie’s tongue acting as a siren’s song. You’re hypnotized by him. “More, please. Please keep going.”

“I love hearing your voice beg for me. Your whimpers are the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life, sweets.”

Eddie dives in again, your choked whimpers telling any near neighbors that you simply don’t remember they exist. They’re not important enough to care about anymore.

As much as you are sensitive to every single touch, even over-stimulated, you welcome the next three orgasms he gives you. At the end of your third, or sixth, orgasm, Eddie rests his chin on your mound again, staring up at you as you recollect yourself. He’s patient, watching the light making its way back into your eyes.

Eddie nearly asks you a question, when your hand reaches out to grab him by his leather collar. He lets out a yelp of surprise, his fully clothed form an odd juxtaposition against your completely naked one. Well, save for the dress still on your waist. Your lips meet, tongues gliding against each other beautifully, and you taste yourself in his mouth. Even with your brain as foggy as it is, your body feeling as weak as it does, the number one thing you can focus on is getting those clothes off him.

Your hands fidget on the harsh leather collar, forcing it off his back. “Take it off,” you tell him, Eddie grinning cheekily in response. As soon as his jacket is off, you feel the graphic shirt start to come off with it. The reveal of his patched treasure trail, his bare skin against yours a marvel of sensations. You become impatient, attempting to hurry the process of taking his shirt off.

A symphony of laughter leaves his lips as his shirt finally is tossed off to the side, watching your eyes marvel at his tattoo littered chest. Your tits pressed against him pulls a groan from his lips, a sound that drives your legs to tug his tented jeans down against your bare pussy. If you thought his tongue felt good, it’s nothing compared to his hips against yours.

His voice is strained, dripping in husk. “Sh-shit, doll. I-I need you. Need to feel that virgin pussy wrapped around my cock. Need it so bad, please.”

Eddie begging like this being such a turn on is a surprise, to say the least. And from the pleasure he gave you, you’re willing him to do whatever he wants to you.

Whatever. He wants.

“Really? You want me?” You ask, whining as he ruts again.

“Desperately.”

Your hand moves down to the button of his jeans, undoing it with shaky hands and even shakier breathing. “You gonna take my virginity, Eddie?”

Somehow you knew this would make him crazy. You enjoyed it, enjoyed the crazy, adored his moan in approval. “I’m gonna take you, baby.” He grunts, starting to move his jeans down his ass, legs, taking his briefs with them.

He’s quick about it, tongue against your skin as he grabs the dress around your waist and slowly drags it down your legs, tongue dragging down along with it. Slyly, he holds a condom from his pants pockets between two fingers. “You ready?”

You bite your lip, making the bottom lip swell from the constant fidgeting. “I’m on birth control…” you admit, only on it to regulate a heavy flow.

He makes a show of tossing the condom over his shoulder, grinning at his crazy eyes. “Well, shit, darling.” He leans in, feeling the size of him as it brushes against your hip. He’s big, right? “Before I enter that pussy, I need you to do me a favour.”

“Hmm?” You ask, the only thing in your mind is how good his bulge felt when it rutted up against your heat. If that felt that good? Sex with Eddie…your mind goes dizzy from the need.

Eddie takes your hand resting by your head, wrapping it around his hardened length. The moan that leaves his lips is deep and rough. Your unsure fingers allow him to assist you, getting a hold of the rhythm. When you do, he lets you take over, face falling in your neck when your grip tightens. “Okay, I can’t take it any longer.” He whispers, gentle, goosebumps erupting in their wake. “Here, help me, will you?”

You don’t ask, only because you don’t have the chance to, when his hips help you brush the head of his cock against your wet entrance. You tease the two of you simultaneously, brushing it numerous times, both of you gasping in harmony. “Oh, you little tease.”

His hand replaces yours, whining as the head finally, finally brushes into your entrance. “Eddie.” You whisper, clinging onto him desperately. “S-so, so, so full.”

“Yeah?” He asks, both winded by the feel of you and by the blissed look on your face. Maybe if he kisses the middle of your eyebrow enough, he can settle every wrinkle you demonstrate from the pain beautifully mixed with pleasure. “Look at you, so drunk on it, did you ever think a cock could make you feel this good? Ever think how much you could want to be fucked so desperately?”

You shake your head, drunk on his words, drunk on his cock. “More, please.”

“Think you can take it?”

You whine impatiently, legs attempting to pull him in harder. “Eddie.”

He smiles as you fall into his trap, pushing in more than he knows he should. He can’t help it, the smile that takes over your face is the perfect reward. “I thought you were shy?”

You roll your eyes, knowing when someone is this close to you, has seen this much of you, there is barely any time to be shy. “Shut up.”

He listens, kissing you deeply as his hips start to move. Your hand weaves itself into his hair, whimpering into his ear as he hits, deeper, harder.

You can’t fully understand the sounds coming out of his mouth, the once coherent, cocky sentences turn into mumbled groans, and it’s refreshing to know he seems to want you as you did him, craved for you the same way. A string of words on repeat come from your mouth, just his name.

The only thing you seem to be able to think of is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, EddieEddieEddieEddie…

“God, your tight pussy, I’m gonna cum soon…” At least, that’s what you think he says. “Gonna fill you up…” You tighten around him, enjoying the prospect of it. “Gonna see it dripping out of you.”

He doesn’t know how it’s possible you tighten around him more.

“God, you take me so well, it’s like you were made for me, made for my cock.”

Head? Empty. Cunt? Full.

Him? Perfect.

“Fill me up, please.”

“Listen to those dirty little words, gonna turn you into a filthy whore.” He whispers, whining together with you in bliss as his hips rut a final, harsh, jagged time.

Time seems to be endless, as he whispers in your ear, hands on his broad back when he settles, keeping his cock warm. Time is so endless; you don’t even notice the movie turning off and the subtle turnover of engines and wheels driving off past the van.

It takes a poor teenage employee to knock on the van doors, politely asking if you could leave because the drive-in is closed, and they need to lock the gate.

To say the way you avoid their eyes after hurriedly putting your dress back on turns Eddie on would be an understatement.

To say when you waltz with him hand in hand down the hallways the next day turns into a sideshow, would be an even bigger understatement.

You sit on his lap during lunch, curious to the reaction of the other boys sitting with him. When Eddie slips his hand under your skirt and plays with your clothed cunt, he knows he’s just starting to corrupt you as you attempt to seem normal.

He’s just getting started.

-

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[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 11.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters contain mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: the events of ch 11 in jk's pov

☆word count: 1.2k

☆a/n: this one made me sad :( hope you guys like it! I've purposefully not put the full explanation bc it hits better later in the story sooo sorry about that. also just a note that depression sucks and I hope none of you guys have to deal with it and, if you do, please know that you aren't alone <3

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook is annoyed. He’s been annoyed all day, and he really just wants to go home.

To go home to you.

“What’s got you sulking?” Jimin asks, and four pairs of eyes shoot towards Jungkook.

Indeed, they are at the restaurant for lunch, Gabrielle having joined them to eat on her lunch break from her internship. 

“Nothing,” Jungkook says, grabbing his glass of water and taking a long sip.

Taehyung frowns, yet remains silent. It’s been happening a lot frequently, and Jungkook has truly, really been annoyed by it.

“Missing OC?” Jimin teases, wiggling his eyebrows and earning a punch in the shoulder by Sera.

“Shut up,” she says as Jungkook clenches his jaw.

“Will you please fucking stop with that?” Jungkook lets out, unable to keep his ire from his voice.

Jimin’s gaze widens, and then he laughs. “Why are you getting so worked up?”

“Maybe because you’ve been a little shit about this the whole week?”

“You’re aware it’s making it seem like it’s true…”

“Stop, Jimin,” Sera intervenes, her tone stern and authoritative.

The only tone Jimin ever listens to. Indeed, Jimin stops, pouting, and he mumbles an apology. Jungkook ignores it, his gaze shifting to Taehyung, and he doesn’t miss the muscle feathering under Taehyung’s skin as he clenches his jaw.

“What?” Jungkook spits, unable to help himself.

“You fucking my sister?”

Jungkook lets out a bitter laugh, his heart clenching in his chest. “Nope. You guys need to fucking leave me alone is all.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything. This time, it’s Ariane’s turn to talk, and she does so with a pointed glare at Taehyung.

“I thought we said yesterday that we weren’t going to talk about her anymore.”

They did. Because scenes like this one have been happening the whole trip, and Jungkook really just wants to go home. The thought sticks around all day, up until they’ve had their shares of drink back at the Air Bnb, not feeling like going out.

Maybe Jungkook’s foul mood has been contributing to everyone’s lack of enthusiasm about going out, but he wouldn’t complain. He’d much rather stay at the Air Bnb, where he doesn’t have to avoid girls coming up to him trying to flirt.

Except Gabrielle. Though it’s not like that with Gabrielle, and he knows she’s a safe space. As much as someone can be without knowing about you - he reckons his only true safe space is you.

Perhaps that’s why he ends up sitting in his room with Gabrielle while the others chill in the living room. Partly to catch up, but also mostly to laugh at the absurdity of their parents wanting them to marry, as if they ever would.

“They’re crazy,” Gabrielle repeats for the hundredth time. “Complètement fou.”

Jungkook nods. “It’s nothing new. They’ve been like that since high school.”

Gabrielle chuckles, turning her head towards Jungkook. “Is your dad still an asshole?”

Jungkook winces, because he feels like his father has only been getting worse and worse with time, finding new ways to put Jungkook through hell all the time. Though the ignoring has been better than the fights and the constant insults he’d used to receive when he was younger, if he’s being honest.

“Yup. You really think someone like him could change for the better?”

Gabrielle slightly shakes her head. “Nah. People like our parents will die as shitty as they were the day they were born.”

Jungkook likes to think that his parents weren’t always like this. That, perhaps they were just corrupted by money growing up. But then again he can’t reconcile the image of his parents being kind to the one that he knows, that he’s known all his life.

So instead, he raises his beer. “Cheers to that.”

There’s a silence as Gabrielle drinks from the wine bottle she carried to the bedroom when they left the rest of the group back in the living room. Jungkook’s thoughts trail to you, and he wonders what you’re up to right now. You mentioned you were going out with your friends - are you already with them, or are you at home thinking about him like he’s thinking about you, too?

“What’s going on with Taehyung’s sister?” Gabrielle asks out of the blue.

Jungkook freezes like a deer in headlights. And though he wishes to say everything, to tell Gabrielle about what he feels for you, he knows he can’t. Not as long as you haven’t said it’s okay to talk about it.

And not when Gabrielle would likely tell Ariane, and Ariane would then tell Taehyung.

“Not you too,” Jungkook grumbles, and he hopes Gabrielle can’t spy the blush slowly dusting his cheeks, up to the tip of his ears.

“I’m just wondering!” Gabrielle says, and she lets out a small laugh before pushing a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve seen pictures, I feel like she would be your type.”

Jungkook makes a noncommittal sound as he shrugs his shoulders.

“So?” Gabrielle presses.

“So what?”

She rolls her eyes, laughing again. “Is something going on between you and her?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, preparing himself to lie to the one person that he’s never had to lie to before. “No.”

Gabrielle remains silent, the weight of her gaze on his profile heavy, and then she sighs. “Then, can I ask for your help?”

He stiffens. “What for?”

He knows what to expect - it’s the same as back when they were in high school, and she’d needed his help more than once then. Though he’d used not to mind, this time he hates it. So much so that he gets up, heading towards the door.

“Please,” Gabrielle says, stopping him with a hand on his wrist. “S’il-te-plait, Jungkook.”

“No,” he reaffirms, turning to face her. He thinks of you, thinks of the last time he kissed you, and wishes he was with you right now. “I can’t do this again.”

“Just this once,” she insists. “And then I will never ever ask that of you again.”

He thinks of the years. He thinks of Gabrielle defending him when his father insulted him during a dinner, or that time at the charity. He thinks about every night they’d fallen asleep in the same bed dreaming about a day where they wouldn’t have to worry about their family’s influence anymore. He’d thought she’d be okay now, independent as she was, but it seems she hasn’t escaped the pressure of her family yet, much like him.

“Gaby, I really can’t…” he trails off, scanning her features, hoping that she’ll understand, that she’ll know you are in his life and would never do something like that to you.

“Please,” Gaby says, her gaze begging.

He hates himself. He always has, more than he’d ever care to admit, but Jungkook hates himself too much for what he says next.

“Just this once.”

It’s like the universe was planning for this to happen anyway. Indeed, there’s laughter behind the door, and Gabrielle immediately grabs his face, pulling him down into a kiss. Jungkook closes his eyes, tells himself that you’ll understand, that he won’t lose you. 

When Gabrielle pulls away, looking just as uncomfortable as him, Jungkook whispers, “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

It’s easy, after, to pretend that the tears in his eyes are caused by Gabrielle. Even as Taehyung claps him on the shoulder as if to congratulate him, Jungkook doesn’t have to hide how much he aches from the inside out.

Gabrielle leaves, and Jungkook goes to bed right away, wishing to be able to skip time until he can see you again.

Until he can prove to himself that he hasn’t lost you.

Read chapter eleven here!

☆☆☆☆☆

:((((( i hate myself for hurting the babies so much.. please come scream at me

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[issa-pheonyx]

Being Johnny Cage's Niece...

𝗜 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱, 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗼𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗶𝗲𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗼𝗹𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘂𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀. 𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹. 𝗬𝗲𝘀, 𝗜'𝗺 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗶𝘀✨𝗰𝗮𝘂𝗰𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗮𝗻✨, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱-𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗼𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗝𝗼𝗵𝗻𝗻𝘆. 𝗟𝗲𝘁'𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗻 𝘆𝗮'𝗹𝗹 [𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗱𝘂𝗹𝘁 𝗯𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆]🤭

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

-He is literally the fun uncle...with such dad jokes and puns that makes you double take on being his favorite. Yes, you're his favorite what makes you think he is open with you hanging around when he is in acting mode at work or he invites you to the red carpet to announce the winners for best actor (AKA him). Plus, there is a new game system you've been investing? He got you. Student loans? No need just tell him how much it is for each semester, he is very supportive of your career. "Is that your uncle Johnny fucking Cage!?" He is at the drop off waiting for you to be picked up in his red Lamborghini, blasting California Love,"Yup...that is my uncle."

-Speaking of his acting career he will NOT permit you to go to any film industry if he is not around. He will confront any sleazy creeps who dare to make you sign a contract, because you will be the biggest star like your uncle. Nope! Not on his watch. "Give me that. Who gave you this paper?" "Uh, some bald guy-" "Yeah, didn't I teach you any better talking to strangers??" "Uncle J you're not even my da-" "I'm calling your mom."

-Not only is he protective, but he will keep mad bugging you to teach you his martial art skills. It is just an excuse to have some uncle and niece bonding-both you hang out 24/7 it is ridiculous-so, you could be his trustee side kick and who knows if he ever has another movie coming in he would definitely drag put you in since you learned martial arts like him. On a serious note though he would let you know he is not doing it for clout (bullshit), but to make sure you are safe and know what to do in dangerous scenarios

-Of course, you will be bombarded with paparazzi when you're hanging with your uncle, however the pictures seem to have a unique pattern about you both. It is like a game between you and Johnny against them. You received little attention before your first movie with your uncle, yet after that you decide to troll them. Every picture they failed to take your face either you wearing a hoodie only seeing your mouth in view, surgical masks and not being to capture you pulling it down when you're eating/drinking cause the angle is shit. Or even then you would position yourself around objects or things that it just looks like a tree branch covered the majority of your face flashing a smile cause Johnny cracked a joke as he was smiling too, eating frozen yogurt going for a walk at the park

-Now being introduced with Lui Kang God of Fire, Sub Zero, Scorpion, and so much was mind blowing. Even you were part of it. Johnny being the protective uncle he absolutely REFUSED to get you involved. So, instead you had to stay close to him at all times since you were forced to join. It was quite a beauty since these different timelines had gorgeous views, so you would snap pictures here and there (without uncle Kenshi knowing cause he bonked you with the sword once). Plus, you were stunned how pretty everyone was there like holy shit why is everyone so hot???

-Furthermore, everyone was just as curious as they were with Johnny to you. "So, you're related to Johnny Cage?" Lui Kang asks as he was behind the entrance door of your uncle's mansion with his arms crossed,"Unfortunately, yes-" "That's it! Youngins' shouldn't be here. The adults are talking." The ladies were a little confused you can be the opposite of Johnny being humorous and all. "How can you tolerate such patience with an uncle so untamed, (Y/N)?" Kitana whispered to you after he told her she was gracefully aging for a 10,000 year old,"I don't know, princess. I question myself that everyday."

-Of course, your uncle J told you to be close to you at all costs, but you end up snapping when someone laid a hand on your uncle. That's when all that work of martial arts paid off when you were popping awf, honey. Everyone was shook and couldn't believe their eyes even Mileena complimented,"Such fire you show within kombat! I wish you can stay here in the Outworld to teach all my guards." You chuckled,"I would be very honored, your majesty, but I don't think uncle Johnny would be okay with that."

-Being his niece has taught you to enjoy life even when things don't go your way it'll get better. With you he learned that not everything shouldn't be taken so lightly when it is necessary especially to those he has a special bond with. Lets just say it is a healing and mind opening moment for you and you uncle away from the riches, the media, and fame into the Outworld

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗠𝘆 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹~🖤🫣

[moonstruckme]

hi!

can i request tasm!peter meeting reader after having to do long distance?

if not thats okay! love your writing:)

have a great day<3

Thanks lovely, hope you have a great day as well!

Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 683 words

You don’t just give out copies of the key to your apartment, so when the front door opens you think you’re about to be shot. 

Breath caught in your throat, you freeze in the hallway and say the first deterrent that comes to mind. “I’ve got a gun!” 

The laughter that responds is as familiar as it is cheeky. “No, you don’t,” Peter says. 

“Jesus.” Your heart starts again, and in that split second your feet are already moving. 

Peter opens his arms as you throw yourself at him, taking your weight happily. “Nope, just me,” he quips, his harsh grip at odds with the levity of his voice. 

“Still a bad joke.” Your own voice is thick with fondness. You press your face into his neck, getting your boyfriend as close as you can. “What are you doing here?” 

“I live here.” He gives your upper back an excited squeeze. “You miss me?” 

“Not even,” you mumble into his shoulder. You go ahead and wrap your legs around his waist, and Peter chuckles, starting to walk the both of you towards your couch. “You scared the shit out of me, you know.”

“Yeah, maybe not my best plan.” He collapses downward, and you fold yourself around him more completely, getting comfortable in his lap. You think you’ll just never leave, honestly. “I thought the surprise would be more fun than scary.” 

“I could’ve met you at the airport.” 

“May would’ve killed me.” He palms the back of your neck, lips finding your hairline. “She wanted to pick me up herself, but she’s letting you have me for dinner. I have to be back by ten.” 

You let out a petulant whine. “Why does she get to decide?” 

You adore Peter’s aunt and he knows it, but when you’re having to battle her for custody of your boyfriend all that love goes right out the window. 

“I know,” Peter commiserates. “You’d think after a semester of taking care of myself in another country, I’d be allowed to stay out until at least eleven.” 

You hum, vacating your spot in the juncture of his neck in favor of seeing his face. You pet down the cowlick at the crown of his head, and Peter catches your hand, kissing your palm. A warm thrumming starts up in your chest. It’s similar to the sensation you’d gotten during your evening calls while Peter was abroad (well, your evening, his late night), but more. Better. You’ve missed feeling it like this. 

“How was Hertfordshire?” you ask. 

Peter gives you a look like you’re being silly. “I told you already.” 

“It’s different in person.” 

He smiles, thinking. “Small. Grassy. Cute, but not much to swing off of.” There’d been no vigilante work while Peter did his research abroad. He talked like it was a welcome break, but you could tell he missed it. Something changes in his look, eyes going soft and flirty. “No pretty girls.” 

You bite back a smile. “Let’s not do the women of Hertfordshire a disservice,” you chide.

“Fine.” Peter rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “None of my pretty girl.” 

He lifts his chin and you oblige him, touching your lips to his. It’s a kiss months in the making, and it heats quicker than either of you are expecting. Your heart thunders and throbs to the point of aching. You shuffle closer in Peter’s lap and his hand presses into the small of your back, both of your breathing turning harsh and desperate. 

“Missed you,” he says into your mouth. 

“I missed you more.” 

“Wanna bet?” Peter lifts you off the couch, and his casual strength shouldn’t surprise you anymore but it does. You laugh, again wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“Shouldn’t we start to think about dinner?” you ask as he carries you towards your bedroom. 

He hums, reluctant. “What time is it?” 

You look to the side to check the clock on your microwave, and he kisses your cheekbone while you do. “Almost seven.” 

Peter hums against your skin, pressing another kiss to the side of your nose. “We’ve got time.”

[writing-with-yours-truly]

Christmas Baking With You. [Sonic/Knuckles franchise] Wade Whipple x Reader

Summary: Where you and your fiance Wade decide to bake for the holiday season, and Knuckles tags along.

-------

The holiday season was the time you and Wade typically got off from work. You worked as an elementary teacher, and Wade as a local police officer.

Since school was not in session for the next couple weeks, you mostly spent your days at home, occasionally prepping for the upcoming semester.

Other times, Wade was home, and you both spent your time snuggled in a blanket on the couch. Today was no different. You spent the morning doing nothing.

"I'm really glad you moved out of that apartment," You said mindlessly, watching the random Hallmark movie on TV. "It wasn't really spacious."

Wade hummed in response. "It still feels off. Me moving into your house. Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

You replied with a shrug. "I don't think it matters. As long as we're together, right?"

Wade looked down at your face, a few stray pieces of hair in the way of your eyes. "God, that was so cheesy," He snorted, moving the stray hair out of your face, pressing a kiss to your head.

"I know you're not trying to insult me, Wade."

"No, ma'am."

"What I thought," You laughed.

It was silent after that, you two enjoying each other's presence. That is until you came up with an idea.

"Wade! What if we made cookies?" You asked, pulling on his arm.

"Ouch. That's my arm," He replied, slightly pulling his arm back. "But that's not a bad idea, sweetheart."

"We could ask Knuckles if he wants to make cookies, too."

"I don't know about that."

"C'mon. We're like his cool aunt and uncle. I bet he's never had one of my world-famous cookies."

You pulled Wade up, causing the blanket to fall to the floor. "Now let's go."

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

"Why sure, Knuckles would love to make cookies!" Maddie exclaimed through the phone. Wade has his arms wrapped around you. Your excess body heat is attracting him like a fly to honey.

"Great! Do you want us to pick him up or are you dropping him off?" You asked Maddie.

"I can have Tom drop him off on the way to the office."

"Great! Thanks Maddie!"

"Mhm! Bye bye!"

You set your phone down and Wade's head is in between your neck and shoulder. "Wade. I gotta get cleaned up for the morning." You giggled.

"Nope. You're too warm," He mumbled into your shoulder. You rolled your eyes. "Maybe you'd be warm too if you had a sweater and sweatpants on too, weirdo."

Eventually, you pried Wade off of you and made it into the shower to clean up.

You got out and dried your hair, throwing on an oversized sweater that smelled like Axe and the fall and some black sweatpants. Obviously it wasn't a sweater of yours.

By the time you were done getting ready for the day, Wade was talking to Tom, and Knuckles was sitting on your couch with a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos.

"Hey, Tom," You greeted the sheriff sitting with Wade at the dining room table. He gave a wave in response.

You made a beeline to the couch, planting youself next to Knuckles.

"Hey, bud. You excited?" You asked him.

"What are we doing?" Knuckles asked in response.

"Making cookies! It's a type of dessert! You'll love them."

"Yum, dessert! But I only eat the Cool Ranch of Doritios and grapes."

You shake your head. "Doritos aren't usually in cookies. Grapes are sometimes. But they're usually dried out and called raisins."

"Oh. Then we shall make raisin cookies!" Knuckles commanded, marching into your kitchen. Wade was just saying goodbye to Tom. "So, what kind of cookies are we baking, Knux?" Wade asked the red echidna when he entered the kitchen.

"We are making raisin cookies." Wade shared a look with you as you shook your head.

-----

The cookies were made with love -and extra eggshells (blame Knuckles)- and finished within an hour. Knuckles ate almost an entire batch while watching "The Rookie". "Yum! I love desert. We shall make more!"

And as you turned to Wade, he shrugged.

"Hey, you said we're like his cool uncle and aunt pair, not me."

"Whatever, nerd."

The three of you spent the entire day in the kitchen making raisin cookies, making fond memories.

[yeonboy]

𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 ♡ choi soobin.

If it was up to you, you would worship the very ground Choi Soobin walks. No, you’re not a simp, he’s just that amazing – the star of your college’s broadcasting club, your role model, the reason why you even have a dream career, and…someone you’d really like to make out with if he’d allow it. But the first ever conversation you have with him has your rose-tinted, star-studded glasses shattering to pieces when he turns out to be a huge jerk. Is this just a misunderstanding or is it the end?

❧ choi soobin x f. reader | 16+ | college!au ♡ strangers to lovers!au ♡ angst ♡ fluff

❧ 10 k words

❧ warnings! inaccuracies wrt broadcasting journalism majors & college broadcasting clubs, profanity, some suggestive language, misunderstandings, allusions to slut-shaming, soobin being an accidental (?) asshole, some heartbreak, some conflict, some yelling, insecurities wrt social standing in college, yn is a certified soob simp™ but goes thru a hater era for half a day </3, stinky cute fluff later on, some cringe, so much blushinG it’ll make u sick, a make out sesh, cameo by yj & his girl from fic 1 bec i love them sm :(

❧ note! set in the same universe as no one but you. i’ve been working on this since marCh, idk why it took me so long to finish? the wc def ran away from me a little whoops! anyways, this gets rough in the middle – soobin might shock u with his behavior but it will all get resolved, i promise!

leave me feedback if you like this! follow for more! (:

❧ masterlist | inbox ⁘

“I’m sorry, the tryouts are closed!”

You blink. Take a step away. Peek at the huge poster stuck on the huger double doors to the auditorium. The notice says the tryouts would run from four to six in the evening – it’s presently five minutes past five. What the heck?

Around you, you notice a number of girls looking as disgruntled as you feel. You approach one. “Uh, hey…did you already do your piece?”

The girl twirls a vibrant purple strand of hair around her finger and rolls her eyes. “Nope. Choi’s bitch ass shut the doors unannounced ’cause he’s pissed off for some reason.”

Choi? Bitch ass? This girl can’t possibly be talking about the Choi Soobin, right? The prince of the university’s broadcasting club who always emcees every single stage performance the university hosts?

No, she can’t be. No one would refer to the Choi Soobin’s glorious behind as ‘bitch ass.’ Besides, you really don’t think he’d sit around judging freshmen entrants to the club when he’s got so many better, so much cooler things on his schedule.

Choi Soobin the Great has been in this club for three years, two of which he has spent as its president. That, in itself, should be pretty explanatory with regards to how skilled he is at the whole announcer, emcee, broadcast business. 

His extraordinary talent with the mic is what inspired you to pick broadcast journalism as your major, in fact. You'd entered the university on jittery, scared steps because you didn't believe you would actually find something that interested you enough to make a career out of. You spent a whole academic year fluttering between psych and communication, aimless and despaired.

But then came sophomore year where you volunteered to set things up for the new freshman batch's orientation week – and that is when you saw Choi Soobin, a fellow sophomore, take the stage and blow everyone away. He was so good with his audience of the new admittees, providing them with all the important information without making them feel nervous because he used the perfect amount of jokes as a buffer.

It was love at first sight for you.

Okay, like, not like that. You did end up making an altar for Choi Soobin the Great where you continue to worship on the daily because he's a god on stage, but what you actually fell in love with was the art of emceeing.

So you registered your major in your third semester and began to work on polishing your skills. Now, two semesters later and midway through the junior year, you finally feel confident and prepared enough to enter your God's actual, holy shrine and join his praying circle.

…maybe you should stop with these metaphors before it gets weird.

Anyways.

Case in point – unlike this uninformed rodent of a girl who found it fit to disrespect your role model and gave up on these tryouts in favor of rolling her eyes and complaining in the hallway, you are nothing if not strong-willed. 

You are finally ready to do something about your one true passion that you can actually see yourself pursuing professionally after college. Being part of the university's broadcasting club means guaranteed dream job; you've seen it happen with your eyes for two consecutive years. You're finally ready to follow suit; finally ready to join the ranks of the elite and learn from Choi Soobin the Great himself – and you are not about to let a gruff call of  "tryouts are closed" from an overworked janitor deter you.

Checking this way and that for any onlookers, you sneak off to the narrow passage to the side that you know connects to this auditorium's back door, and in turn, the cafeteria. You're just gonna casually stroll through it, maybe loiter a bit around the doors until someone from the judges panel steps out so that you can beg them to give you a chance. And if someone catches you? You were just looking for the cafe!

It's the perfect plan.

Until, that is, your loitering ends with the legend himself, Choi Soobin the Great stepping out of the backdoor and freezing you to a statue.

You've seen the man from afar more times than you can count on both hands. You're a true fan, a great admirer, a semi-obsessed devotee (?) of his. But never once have you seen the guy from this up close. Needless to say, your brain's short circuiting a little.

Three things strike you all at one – that the university's emcee prince did, in fact, sit in to judge freshman entrants to the broadcasting club despite his various busy schedules; that the purple haired female auditionee actually did call this great man's glorious behind 'bitch ass' like an uncultured heathen; and finally, that Choi Soobin sporting a combination of dark black hair, bright red lips and stark white t-shirt should be banned because it can cause brain malfunctions in people.

Because while the guy's eyes widen and then squint as he looks at you, and mouth opens as if to say something to you – you stay absolutely frozen, literally turned to stone without a single muscle moving in your body. Including your lungs that are jammed because you're pretty sure you aren't breathing.

"Um… can I help you?"

Oh shit, his dimples…

His dimples!

You realise this is entering borderline creepy territory but you can't help staring at him. He's just so pretty. Though your brain functions are still experiencing a slight lag, you're starting to realize that your crush on the guy is winning over the admiration and respect you have for his talents, at the moment.

He's ethereal. He's unearthly. He's the most beautiful guy you've ever met. You're a simp.

"Excuse me?" Soobin's head tilts to the side in confusion. "Can I help you?"

He definitely can, in more ways than one, but that conversation is for another time.

His impatiently raised eyebrows suddenly push you back into motion, breaking your frozen state, but now you're on an overdrive, very close to hyperventilating in front of him.

"H–hey! I mean, h–hi. I mean, fancy bumping into you here! N–not that we bumped, just, uh—haha, you know? Fancy – fancy seeing you here, how have you been?"

Oh

God.

Did all of that just exit your mouth?

You need a shovel because this calls for digging up a hole and burying yourself alive. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Your entire face feels like it's caught on fire, and all the nerve endings in your body are tingling from embarrassment. You feel like you're vibrating. Wait, if you vibrate at a frequency that's outside of the visible range, can you voluntarily make yourself disappear?

The only thing holding you back from combusting into flames is the amused smile that replaces the previously formal tilt on Soobin's lips. "Hi. I'm sorry, where do I know you from? You look very familiar, but I'm just missing it…"

You look familiar? So he does notice you in class! Maybe getting that hair spa last month has worked in your favor, after all. You're getting a little googly eyed, but you do your best to control your reactions as you gauge his.

He looks so darn cute with his dimpled smile that makes his eyes squint, that you're left gaping for a couple of seconds before you're able to notice the hand he is forwarding you. Nodding haphazardly, you forward yours and let him wrap his huge palm around your significantly smaller one. Even though you try to repress it, the warmth his skin emanates sends a shiver running through you.

If Soobin notices the subtle shake your body gives, he doesn't comment on it.

He's being so angelically patient and kind, you need to get it together! 

So you clap your hands in front of your face and pull your lips up in a smile, preparing yourself to say your thing without any unnecessary words this time. 

"Uh, I'm – I'm in your class? I don't know if you know me, but I know you! I'm, um, I'm here for the broadcasting club. And – and I noticed that the banner said that the tryouts would run from four to six, but I've been told that the gates have been closed when it is barely past five, so I was… w–wondering…" You slowly trail off, stuttering a little when Soobin's facial expressions do a sudden one-eighty.

Gone is the sweet, dimpled, kind guy who was smiling at you with his eyes. Now his lips are pursed and eyebrows furrowed, a clear look of irritation on his face. Well, he's still got a dimple showing, but this one's part of his frowny face so you're not sure if you should be admiring it anymore.

"Wow. You're gutsy." His tone has changed now, too, really stiff with an underlying scoff in words. "Did you follow me here?"

You blink in surprise. "What? Of course not! The – the main doors were closed, so I was looking for another way in and—"

"Good God, please stop talking," he interrupts you with a groan, rolling his eyes as he tilts his head to look skywards – and you're fully paralyzed now, clueless and a little scared because Soobin looks so mean and intimidating with his eyebrows scrunched up like that. "I don't get what you guys' problem is. I'm – I'm trying to do something serious here. Why the hell do you not get it?"

Blinking slowly, you gape at your idol, your icon, the deity of all things broadcasting as he yells at you about something you can make neither head nor tail of. 

'You guys'? Who? 

You know that you of all people definitely get that he's doing something serious. You're as much, if not more, serious about the club yourself; the reason why you've taken so long to decide to audition for it. Besides, how's he judging you when you've never met before?

Willing your frozen lips to move, you attempt to clear the air. "We've – we've never met before. You don't know me. I'm—"

"Oh, I know you enough." This time there is vitriol in his eyes as he spits the words, and you take an actual, vary step away from Soobin. "I've been through twenty auditions and seen fifty applications in the past hour and every single one of the girls like you is dying to get to interview the hockey team and talk to Yeonjun about his strategy for his final season in college. So I know exactly who you are and exactly what you're after."

He is rolling his eyes again, this time with both his hands braced on his waist.

But his words are very confusing and a little hurtful. Why is he grouping you with whatever 'girls like you' he's seen so far? You've been a fan of Soobin for a while now, but you've never encountered any instance of even a mention of him being anything less than courteous and big hearted.

This attitude from him feels like living a fever dream – and not of the good kind.

"So for the last time – I'm not taking any of you groupies into this club because it is not a means to get into the hockey captain's pants! I need serious people who look at announcing and broadcasting with respect and not as something they can use as cover for their ulterior motives. Oh, and if it means anything to you at all, Yeonjun hyung has a girlfriend now. We probably won't even be covering him at all because his fangirls are always a bit too much."

Your head is spinning a little now. 

Did he call you a groupie? Yeonjun's groupie? He thinks you're doing this to get into Yeonjun's… what the hell?

While you're still processing his previous words, Soobin gives a wince. "Look, I'm sorry if all this sounds harsh, but you've left me no choice. Trying to corner me was a really low blow, okay? There's a limit to acting desperate and you're clearly crossing the line, here. If you can't respect me or the club, at least respect yourself."

The pieces have finally fallen in place in your head. You couldn't make sense of it earlier because you didn't really allow yourself to think Soobin would go there. But given his last statement, now you have no doubts.

You don't live under a rock – you really can't afford to when you dream of joining the broadcasting club, of all things – so you obviously know hockey captain Choi Yeonjun and the hype surrounding him. And because you always do your homework well, you also know that he used to be somewhat of a serial dater before he got into a serious relationship with his long time best friend, just last month. All of Yeonjun's fangirls across campus have been disheartened by this development and have been acting desperate ever since.

But why on earth has Soobin pegged you as one of them escapes you. You did not say a word about the hockey team. You didn't get to tell him what your goals actually are. Hell, you didn't even get to tell him your name before he shut you down.

This is a very overwhelming generalization, and you really wanna give Soobin the benefit of the doubt here because going through fifty bullshit applications can be a lot – but he needs to hear you out for you to do that.

"Soobin," you try again, raising both your palms up in an attempt to placate him, "I don't know how you're getting this idea, but I'm not one of – one of Yeonjun's groupies, or whatever, okay? I literally told you I'm in your class."

“Look, I really don’t have time for all these tales,” Soobin interrupts you with a sigh, a huge hand raised up to shut you up – so you do. “You’re dressed… too prettily to be trying out for the broadcasting club, anyways. Is that a cheerleading skirt?”

He's looking down his nose at your miniskirt that you felt very pretty in, annoyance on his face, and now –

Now you're hurt. Now you're hurt beyond giving him the benefit of the doubt. Now you're hurt enough for your eyes to sting with offense.

“Are you trying to pass a judgment on my…clothes?” you ask him in shock, your voice low and a frown creasing your forehead. 

He looks a little uncomfortable as he clears his throat. “I’ve seen the way Yeonjun’s fangirls dress, and you kinda… fit the description.”

He really isn’t giving up on the groupie allegations…

In any other scenario, you would honestly take that as a compliment. Because you have seen these girls as well and their appearance is honestly on another level. But this guy in front of you definitely means it as an insult. And he is still scowling, as if you have dressed up to personally offend him.

You’re at a complete loss now. He hasn’t let you talk, you haven’t even told him your name, and he is acting like knows everything about you. His mind seems fully made up too. 

What are you supposed to do?

"You know what? Maybe I… I should leave through the front door,” he murmurs in your general direction and then moves to step back through the gates he’d emerged from.

You just stay rooted to your place, offended at his dismissal and still in partial disbelief. 

Choi Soobin is nothing like anything you thought he was. 

The smiling, giggling, squinty-eyed guy that you always heard being called kind-hearted, warm, understanding and sweet? Cannot be the same guy you just met. Part of the reason why you like him so much has been the overwhelming amount of praises you have heard about him. 

At times, you found yourself wondering how such an important and busy guy could muster enough patience to be a sweetheart to everyone. Now you know that it’s all a sham – a character he has created to showcase. It’s all pretend. 

This, the version of him you just met, is what the real Choi Soobin is like when no one’s looking. 

Not just your crush, but your idol has broken your heart. 

How are you gonna move on from this?

"Y/N!"

The sudden shout of your name makes you jump in surprise, wide, watery eyes turning to the end of the hallway. Soobin has stopped in his place as well, a frown on his forehead as he attempts to follow your gaze – but he's a little off center from the curved hallway to be able to locate a bubbly looking Yeji excitedly waving at you. 

Oh fuck. Not right now. You don't need your best friend to witness you experiencing the worst moment of your entire life.

But Yeji being the loudass clown she is, doesn't stop speaking at the top of her voice as she marches down the hallway to you. "Where have you been? The janitor says they closed the tryouts? Did you pass? Oh, and a girl told me Choi Soobin was in the judging panel! Did you get to see him?"

Your eyes jump wide, traveling to the said guy involuntarily to witness the way confusion overtakes his face. He isn't moving, though, probably out of intrigue now that he has heard his name, and you're halfway scared to death that Yeji is about to reveal your secret and bathe you in the kind of embarrassment that you will never be able to live down.

"Yeji, I'm just—"

"Babe, why do you look so pale?" she cuts you off, squinting as she nears you, and before you can get another word out, her lips are tilting mischievously and eyebrows are wiggling. "Did Choi find out about your obsessive crush on him? Did he kick you out? Are you hiding from him?"

Yeji is done walking up to you and is now standing with her back to the still open door to the auditorium to look at you with her head tilted and hands braced on her waist. But your gaze is stuck to the person whose face you can easily see over her shoulder.

Soobin's eyes are impossibly wide and mouth is parted to allow his bunny-like front teeth to peek out. There's a subtle flush covering the top of his cheekbones, ears and the bridge of his nose – a sight that would've had you cooing in adoration if you weren’t so distraught, right now.

And then his lips move to form a broken sentence that makes you want to stab Yeji and then yourself: "You… obsessive crush… me?"

To her credit, Yeji seems to recognise the guy's voice and also the context of this ridiculous situation pretty quickly. Her eyes grow wide immediately before a wince overtakes her face as she mouths the word 'sorry' to you, probably mistaking your fallen expressions to be a reaction to the chaos she has caused. Little does she know.

Just as she has stepped aside, Soobin takes a step closer to you, heavy guilt and bewilderment sewn into the lines of his forehead and the twist of his lips. It's so weird that your heart is still skipping a beat when his gaze searches yours. 

It's so unfair. 

You inhale deeply and shake your head, though, steeling yourself against his deceitful innocent eyes. His dimples are just a facade to hide his arrogance. You know better now.

"Not anymore, don't you worry," you tell him with your chin lifted and eyes narrowed.

And damn, you feel so brave for that one. Especially because the words aren't even true. Getting over him will be a hefty task and you have no idea where to even begin, because your life has pretty much revolved around the guy for over a year.

Soobin frowns at that, looking almost hurt, and you want to laugh in his face at the hypocrisy. But you've had enough of him judging you and you're also ninety-eight percent sure you will end up crying if you tried to laugh, so you choose to just grab onto an embarrassed and confused looking Yeji's wrist and tug her with you to the other end of the hallway, exiting into the college's cafeteria.

"Babe, that was—ow!"

Yeji is cut off by you smacking her upside the head. "You're so fucking stupid, Hwang."

"I know… I'm sorry?" 

"Shut up, you’re buying me lunch."

The next day, while you’re supposed to be attending your Media Law class, a mandatory course in your major, you find yourself sitting (read: sulking) in a corner of the library by yourself, staring at the laptop in front of you unseeingly. Your attendance is good enough to save your grades and you can beg Chaewon for notes later in the week. 

But you truly don’t have enough mental strength to face the class’ star student after the shitshow that went down, yesterday.

While Yeji bought you lunch yesterday, you filled her in on everything that happened. Your best friend provided you with a shoulder for your tears, some tissues for your snot and four golden words of advice: never meet your heroes. Because now everything is ruined, and you’re beginning to wonder if picking this major was even worth it when the reason why you did has turned out to be a sham himself.

Your phone suddenly pings with a message, breaking your chain of spiraling thoughts.

11:03 | yeji 💘 dood. guess who i bumped into omw to the chem lab and guess what he asked me for

You blink and then squint at your phone. Why is your best friend trying to be so mysterious? 

↪ wtf ji…? ↪ who asked u for what? ↪ are u okay?

11:05 | yeji 💘 what? yeah i’m okay choi soobin asked for your number

What? 

↪ yeji… ↪ tell me u didn’t give it to him

11:06 | yeji 💘 of course not bestie <3 i told him to talk to you in person he’ll be there in a min good luck! 💋💋💋

You hadn’t even fully inhaled your breath of relief at Yeji’s first text when she cut it short with the next one. In person? In a minute? 

Did Yeji tell him where you are?

“Uh, hey… Can we talk?”

She did. Shit.

Even if you don’t lift your gaze from your phone, Soobin’s tall form blocks the incoming light from the window you were seated next to and casts such an obvious shadow on your form that you cannot ignore him without making it weird. So you lick your lips and collect your nerves, preparing yourself to face the guy who single-handedly inspired and then shattered your future plans.

Soobin looks as devastatingly handsome as ever, dressed in a white, collared shirt. His hair is just as black, lips just as red, but there’s an additional pair of thick, black, round-framed glasses sitting on his eyes this time that make your heart beat faster. He just had to look like a runway model in glasses. The universe hates you. Figures.

The expressions on his face scream clear distress and the guilt you saw yesterday. He’s nibbling on his bottom lip, which is a great sign because his bitch ass should be antsy about his audacity of talking to you now when he didn’t wanna listen to you yesterday.

Wow. Maybe that purple haired girl really was onto something, yesterday. Choi Soobin’s derriere is most definitely a rude and a bitch ass.

Looking down at your laptop, you clear your throat and ask him, “What do you wanna talk about?”

You don’t ask him to sit, you do not smile, don’t even wave back in response to his lame ass ‘hey’ – just cut straight to business. You’re proud of the way your voice sounds the right amount of impatient and careless.

“I… I owe you an apology.”

That has you looking at him again. He’s frowning now, looking so conflicted, you almost soften. But then you stop yourself. This is probably not even that heartfelt. He heard about your crush on him and now he pities you. You won’t be a vessel for him to pretend to clear his conscience when he wasn’t even willing to get off his judgemental high horse for you.

“Soobin… don’t.”

He takes the seat opposite yours, ignoring your eyebrows that rise up in shocked outrage. "I have to. Please."

"You really don't—"

"I was horribly out of line, ridiculously ignorant, unprofessional and – and an asshole."

You blink at him in mild surprise. At least he knows; that’s an oddly good start. "You can say that again."

He removes his glasses and rests his elbows on the table, leaning towards you with wide, desperate eyes. "I do not expect you to forgive me, I just need you to – to know that I'm not… I'm not who I was yesterday. That's not – I was under pressure and I felt irritated, insecure and a little jealous? And I said everything I didn't mean. Especially that comment about your dress up! I didn't mean it, I swear! You looked pretty, your skirt was really cute, okay? I – I didn't mean to insult you, I would never stoop to that level."

Your cheeks involuntarily heat up at the compliment he tosses at you so casually. "Why say it when you didn't mean it?" you mumble, attempting to hold your ground and stay mad because he's saying all the right things to weaken your resolve and give him an ear.

He hangs his head as if in shame. "Because I'm a moron. None of the stuff I said was aimed at you. As you said, we hadn't even met before, and… I was frustrated and tired and just drew all these wrong conclusions about you and went off like an idiot. I feel so horrible. I'm so fucking sorry..."

Very slowly, you lean back in your chair and shut your laptop. He really knows how to apologize, damn. 

You were preparing to knock Choi Soobin off the throne you had him sitting on, mentally, and then crush that very throne to pieces because if he could disappoint you like this, you were determined to never look for another role model. You were preparing yourself to leave Choi Soobin and his arrogance in dust and move on with your life.

But now here he is – apologizing like the decent human being you always thought him to be, saying everything you’d never admit you needed to hear.

He’s climbing back upon the throne that took you a whole day to make up your mind to remove him from. 

You’re kinda pathetic, to be honest…

In an attempt to regain some of the dignity your inner monologue has stripped you of, you frown at him. But you are definitely intrigued now because if the kindness and sweetness he shows everyone is a facade, why is he being kind and sweet to you in private?

Could there possibly be… an explanation for his behavior yesterday? He said he was under pressure and frustrated. Although you understand the former, given his position and the auditions yesterday, you don’t really get why he would be frustrated.

When you meet his gaze again, you find Soobin looking at you with those wide eyes of his spilling desperate hope. So you decide to bite.

 "You – you keep saying you were frustrated… Why was that? "

He thumps his head against the table with a groan, making you jump a little in surprise, and then looks up with a determined expression on his face. "I'll begin from the beginning. I owe you that much."

"You really don't owe me any—"

"Please, Y/N."

Oh. Did he say your name? Oh.

Wow, this is why crushes are horrible. Now your heart is thumping wildly and your face feels really hot. Honestly, there should be a system where one can run a background check on an individual before they can be deemed safe enough to be crushed on so that one doesn’t end up embarrassing oneself.

You can only hope your face hasn’t heated up to a noticeable degree.

"I… Since the day I was made President of the Broadcasting Club and was given the duty to conduct interviews for the different sports teams our college has, there’s been this – this recurring pattern. Huge throngs of girls that want to join the club for a chance to interview the hockey team and get close to Captain Choi.” He gives a tired exhale and runs a hand down his face. “I’ve seen it repeat every semester. And this time it got really out of hand because I actually decided to sit in for the tryouts…”

You didn’t even notice when you leaned on your elbows to mirror Soobin’s seating position and focused your eyes on his face, so when he looks up to meet your gaze, your breath catches for a moment. And then you see absolute, sheer tiredness reflected by his brown orbs.

He cannot be this good of an actor, can he be? That would mean that he's really been going through something with this whole insincere signing up for the club thing.

"It was really wrong of me to explode on you the way I did," he continues in a softer voice, looking down at the table next to his palms. "I assumed you were one of the girls that had been giving me a hard time and… didn't even let you say your thing. I'm really, terribly sorry for being a jerk to you."

Your jaw drops a little at the sincerity that spills from his apology. He doesn't sound like he's doing this to clear his conscience or out of pity – he sounds really regretful. He almost sounds like he's in pain, in fact. 

Does he really feel that guilty?

He would only be feeling so bad about this if… everything he has said so far is the truth and he’s actually not the kind of person he painted himself as, yesterday. You can sense the way your previously drawn conclusions begin to dissipate little by little.

"After you left," Soobin begins again, this time with a slight twinkle in his eyes and a tilt to his lips that makes his dimples pop, "I went looking for your application form and read about your interest in announcing. You… you picked your major because of me?"

Your cheeks are definitely on fire now and there’s no way Soobin can’t see that. Why did you put that in your form, you embarrassing imbecile? 

Well. If Soobin has been gusty and virtuous enough to come looking for you and make an attempt to honestly explain himself and apologize, maybe you can be a little honest with him as well.

"You see… the freshman orientation you hosted last year left an impact on me," you reveal, unable to look at him. "And then I saw your sports coverage and realized that I want to be a sports announcer in future."

Soobin says your name, making you look up and meet his soft gaze. "I never thought I would do anything in life that would be worth an inspiration… so this means a lot to me. A lot.” His eyes are shining with sincerity and emotion, and you’re looking into them, spellbound. “I am so sorry I hurt you and I’m ready to try and make it up to you for as long as needed. I don’t really expect you to accept my apology, like I told you, but if you would please give me another chance, I would like to show you who I really am. And maybe initiate you, if you’d like?"

He finishes with a sweet, dimpled smile and maybe that is to be blamed for the way his question bounces right off of you.

"Initiate…me?" You cluelessly blink at him.

"Yeah. Into the club. All the members went through your application and some samples of you emceeing. So it’s not just mine, but everybody’s decision. Insistence, if you will. Request? We – we’d really really like to have you on our team."

Your eyes jump open very wide at that. Join the club of your dreams? He’s finally offering you the spot you thought you’d lost forever? 

Wait, did he say samples? Of you emceeing?  What?

"I’m sorry, what samples?"

A blush tinges his ears. "I contacted your friend Yeji about this, last evening. Please don’t be mad at her, she just wanted to help you. She told me how much this means to you… and then sent me a couple of clips of you managing a stage during a kids’ talent show in your neighborhood. You were really impressive, Y/N."

Holy fucking hell, you're going to scream. 

First at Hwang Yeji for going behind your back and selling you to the enemy, no matter what her motivation might’ve been. And then because your idol just complimented you on something you've learned from him.

"Th–thank you, Soobin." You bite your lip at the stutter in your voice, peering up at him with hesitant eyes. And then you decide to be honest with him again: "Your praise… means a lot to me."

Soobin's eyes sparkle at that, a warm smile pulling at his lips. "And I promise to always remember, respect and honor that. Just one chance?”

You stay like that for the next few moments, looking at him with a soft gaze.

You’ve been polishing your skills to prepare yourself for a spot in this club for a year. If you had gotten the chance to audition normally yesterday, there is no doubt in your mind that you would’ve made the cut. So wouldn’t it be unfair if you give up now?

And then there’s Soobin, of course. It’s going to take you some time to trust him. But if he says he’s willing to work on it, says it with a sincerity in his eyes that gives you goosebumps, you believe it’s worth giving him a chance to correct the misunderstanding he caused yesterday.

You exhale, mind made up, and nod at the guy tentatively. “Promise me you will hear what I have to say before you draw any conclusions?”

He leans closer to you, bringing his face at the same level as yours and nods eagerly. “I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die. Do I take this as a yes to joining the club?”

His eagerness makes you crack a smile, which causes Soobin to scrunch his nose bashfully. You inhale deeply and give him another nod. “Yes, you may.”

Time flies really fast after that day as you attempt to find a stable way of juggling your classes and the club duties. 

The work isn’t as much in bulk as it is in the details. Soobin is, as you’d known beforehand, a meticulous perfectionist. Every single activity the club is involved in has to be fully planned in bullet points and a step-wise-step itinerary, and uploaded to the club’s shared Google Drive, days in advance, or Mr. President begins to lose his calm . You, being the newest addition to the bunch of six experienced members, are mostly tasked with assisting the guy on building this very itinerary.

Not that you mind.

The more time you spend next to him, witnessing him in his element up close and actually getting to peer into the creative wonderland that his mind is, the more you find yourself in awe of him. He has been a role model to you for a reason, after all.

With each passing day, you pat yourself on the back for taking a chance by accepting his apology as you slowly begin to see the real him – the version of him that is absolutely nothing like the asshole you met that day. And little by little, your trust in him begins to grow.

Soobin, to his credit, doesn’t leave a single stone unturned to make you feel welcome into the club. He is incredibly patient and delicate with you – always pausing to check whether you have been keeping up with all the new stuff or if you need any guidance.

You’re beginning to understand that it is in his nature to be kind. The word that got around about him has been correct all along – he really is gentle, understanding and sweet. And if he is going an extra mile for you with the intention of appeasing you because he is apologetic? Well… he’s damn well succeeding. 

The two of you have quickly fallen into a routine where you attend your 10 am Media Law class together, collect the communication majors Karina and Jongho from their block, and then report to Arin—the only senior in the club and known to be an effortless ace—in the broadcasting room. After a short briefing about the previous days’ tasks and a rundown of the fresh day’s checklist, you and Soobin depart to the library to work on it. 

After that you both attend your separate afternoon classes, meet up at the broadcasting room at four in the evening for the college announcements that are alternated between Yunjin and Jongin, sophomores and the final two members of the club, and the lot of you finally take your leave some time around six.

The first week is so exhausting for you that you are barely left with enough strength to feed yourself before you collapse into bed every night, let alone think about your academics. You don’t even text Yeji for three whole days, until she accosts you in the library. 

Soobin texts you, that evening, sharing tips on time management, task management as well as a small list of snacks that he munches on to retain energy. To say your heart nearly beats out of your chest at the gesture would be an understatement. 

The following weeks are full of you being on the receiving end of more such thoughtful acts by Soobin. Getting you coffee – one that is made exactly the way you like it – before the evening meet-up, walking you to your dorm if you don’t have anyone from your building accompanying you, repeatedly checking in to ensure you’re well-rested and not overwhelmed by the sudden change in your routine.

And then there is that one time, some three weeks later, when you're filling in for an absent Yunjin and make a mistake during the announcement – landing yourself at the receiving end of Arin's ire. You feel really bad about your mistake as it is, and so the addition of a reprimand from the senior you've come to look up to has you immensely low.

"She said it was a mistake, noona."

Your head snaps up at Soobin's firm statement. His eyebrows are furrowed and arms are crossed as he looks at Arin. You, along with three other pairs of eyes, gawk at the rare sight of Soobin getting angry, and the rarer sight of him going against the club's queen.

"She's apologized thrice. What more do you expect?"

Arin looks taken aback at the brusque interruption, but doesn't put up a fight against the president. "She needs to practice her pauses, Soobin."

"And she will. I'll make sure she does." He gives a small nod to her before turning his gaze to you. Put in spot, you stare back at him with wide eyes. "I'll stay with her while she practices."

Flashing you a small smile of reassurance, Soobin turns back to the other girl and pats her shoulder to calm her down. And because no one in powerful enough to maintain a frown when Soobin unleashes the power of his dimples upon them, Arin eventually smiles in defeated acceptance and dismisses the meeting.

But your heart never quite manages to dismiss the way this incident makes you feel.

Because Soobin holds true to the promise he made as well – accompanying you to the college's courtyard whenever you're both free and practicing speech with you. To be really honest, he seems to be wanting to spend all his free time with you. You find yourself having to say no to his texts at times because you have plans with Yeji, or are too tired to function.

You'd be lying if you claimed that having so much of his attention on you doesn't make your heart to somersaults in your chest. Which is why you begin to wonder where his extra mile of apologetic appeasement ends. 

The whole apology acceptance thing happened between the two of you awhile ago. He really shouldn't have a reason to continue to dote on you as if he has been hired to take care of you. Last time you checked, you were the one with a gigantic crush on him and not the other way round.

A few explanations pop up in your head, but none of them feel plausible enough for you to even think about. So you do the next best thing – share your dilemma with Yeji on an impromptu girls’ night in, one Saturday.

For a moment, your best friend squints her eyes in the way she does when she’s analyzing some complex situation. And then she shrugs a shoulder, pops a pretzel in her mouth and announces: “Sounds like he’s got a crush.”

You blink, caught so off-guard that you’re stunned into silence. It is only when she looks at you with her eyebrows raised that you manage to cough out a scoff. “What? Don’t be ridiculous.”

This time Yeji’s the one to scoff. “Excuse me? What’s so ridiculous about him liking you?”

“Dude. I…” You vaguely gesture to yourself. “I’m me. And he’s…him. Choi Soobin the Great, the prince, the God, the emcee of the year.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, what’s that supposed to mean? You’re you – the princess, the goddess, the prettiest girl on campus and the best student in our year.” She tosses a pretzel at you, scowling. “You’re amazing, bff. Choi Soobin is one lucky motherfucker to have the privilege to spend so much time with you. Of course he’d fall in love! I’d date you if I was into girls!”

The last part of her sentence makes you giggle. “Stop, no one’s talking about love just yet. Do you really think he could be doing all of that with… I don’t know… the intention to woo me?”

“Of course! He’d be a fool not to!” Yeji sits up from her recline on the couch, nearly aggressively grabbing onto your shoulders to shake you. “Didn’t you hear the part where I told you I would date—hell, Ryujin would date you!”

You gape at your best friend, feeling uplifted, reassured and confused all at once. “Wha—? Does Ryujin like girls?”

“No, but she’d still date you. She’s open minded that way.”

“Yeji, what the f—”

“My point is!” She raises a finger up to silence your protest. “You’re fabulous and amazing and gorgeous – have you seen your eyes? Bff, they’re fucking pretty. Do you know what that makes you? More fucking pretty. He likes you, boo, and he's probably got a list of reasons why.”

Yeji’s love language might be words of affirmation through… aggression, but it is surely effective at reminding you of the fact that you’re lovable.

And so more time goes by, with things staying mostly normal if you don’t count the way your cheeks seem to get extra warmer with every cup of coffee that Soobin hands you, lately. If your locked gazes stay locked for longer than necessary, or if his goodbye hugs linger a little and cause your heart to nearly beat out of your chest – it is no one’s business but your own. 

You know, deep in your heart, that you never really got over the guy. He left you heartbroken for a total of 36 hours, while he's spent more than 36 days swirling up a swarm of butterflies in your tummy with every action of his.

It is inevitable for you to fall for him all over again.

You have absolutely no plans of doing anything about it, however, because you have come to really cherish the close friendship you share with Soobin. You like the wheel of routine the two of you constantly spin within and don't wanna change a thing about it.

Although, that is not to say that no change ends up happening.

The wheel of routine makes a detour around a week later, some five weeks after your initiation into the broadcasting club, when you find yourself wrapped in a jacket and still shivering, sitting next to the university’s star athlete on the bleachers in the hockey arena, at six in the morning.

“Is that all? For real?” Choi Yeonjun asks you with his eyes wide in pleasant surprise. “That was quick.”

While you just nod with a chuckle, his girlfriend peers at you from his other side and punches him in the side. “I’ve told you the important questions don’t take that long! Your fangirls just wanna extend the interviews because they wanna ogle you longer.”

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, I promise,” you tell the girl with a grin, which she returns fully.

“Nah, you don’t even have to tell me because I can see it in your body language,” she mumbles, pressing her cheek into her boyfriend’s shoulder, over which he tips his own head affectionately. “You’re the first ever girl to not view him like a piece of meat. I’m not even kidding.”

“Ah, I’m sorry about that. Your man’s okay, but he’s not my type.”

Yeonjun grins widely at your words, while her girlfriend breaks into laughter because she apparently hasn’t heard anyone use the adjective “okay” for Yeonjun ever before. 

Anyone that tries to get between these two must be crazy, you realize, because you’ve sat with them for less than an hour and can already tell how deeply in love they are. And how stinkingly cute they are together.

Well, the general consensus states that Yeonjun is cute, too. Along with being handsome, beautiful, sexy – and a whole plethora of other adjectives that his fans use for him. But it becomes hard for you to agree with the opinion when your heart, instead, chooses to skip a beat for the dimpled cutie seated two steps away from you, smiling at you from behind his camera.

Right as your eyes meet, Soobin waves a hand at you to let you know he has stopped recording. Nodding, you wave goodbye to the couple next to you and leave the spot to walk up to your cameraman. 

“If I get hypothermia, you’re footing my hospital bills,” you announce as you settle next to a laughing Soobin, intentionally shifting closer to him to hopefully absorb some of his body heat. 

“I told you to bring a jacket, didn’t I?”

“And I did, but it was useless.”

“Because it was denim!” He gives a full belly laugh at that, and the sound is so beautiful to your ears that it becomes hard for you to maintain your scowl of annoyance. “Who brings a denim jacket when asked to carry one?”

“Hey, you texted me at five am!” you whine in complaint. “I could barely open my eyes, my brain wasn’t working!”

“Is that why you didn’t question me?” His tone is a little teasing and so are his raised eyebrows as he smirks at you. “I asked you to come downstairs quickly and you arrived within ten minutes, ready to run away to the mountains with me if I asked. What’s up with that, hm?”

Your cheeks feel on fire at the implication of his words. Clearing your throat, you try to come up with a response, but your heartbeat is too loud in your ears and meeting Soobin’s playful gaze might just make it crash due to the onslaught of overwhelming emotions.

Well. At least you’re feeling a little warmer now.

“You – you said it was a surprise and a huge honor that I’d later thank you for… I got excited,” you mumble, entwining your cold fingers and stuffing your hands beneath your knees to warm them up. “Thanks for thinking of me for this honor but honestly…” You gesture towards Yeonjun with your chin. “I don't really care for athletes. They’re not my type. I prefer brains over brawn. This guy’s taken, anyway, so people should really…”

You trail off when you turn to look at Soobin and find him smiling at you almost knowingly, such unabashed affection in his gaze that your throat closes up with nervousness. 

“I… I – I mean—”

“Yeonjun’s not your type?”

Swallowing past your nerves, you very slowly shake your head. “Is that a surprise?”

He shrugs his shoulders, trying to seem nonchalant, but you see the stiffness that enters his spine at the question. “Yeah, kind of. He’s… well, everyone I know either wants him or wants to be him.”

Wants to be him? Oh… Your lips curve up in a small smile as it begins to make sense to you. “Including you?”

His eyes widen in surprise as he looks at you. “He’s the most popular guy at our uni, Y/N. Who wouldn’t wanna be him?”

You should be surprised by his answer but you somehow aren’t. Because this ties up with a number of things you’ve been unable to fully make sense of about Soobin. Most of all, this explains why it would get him so riled up that people would try to use him and his club – one of the most sacred things he holds in his life – just to get close to Yeonjun. It would also explain why he would have felt insecure and jealous about it.

Emotions such as these are hard to navigate. Within the month that you’ve spent working closely with Soobin, you’ve come to know that he cares about his friends a lot – he truly loves them and would go to extreme lengths to help them whenever and wherever. It pains you that he struggles with this burden on the inside.

You need him to know that he shouldn’t. That he doesn’t need to. 

Which is why you shuffle closer to him, to the point where your thighs brush together, and look into his wide, bunny eyes to tell him that: “When I first saw you, I was fully convinced you were the most popular guy at the uni. And it stayed with me for months until I began my research into uni related facts and opinions and found out about our hockey team. This is why I could never gather enough courage to approach you, you know? You were this tall, handsome and sweet guy – textbook university crush material. How could you not be the most popular?”

Soobin’s cheeks turn pink, then pinker, then bright red, and by the end of your confession, he’s got a trail of redness climbing up to his ears. His eyes stay glued to yours, even as he bites down on his bottom lip.

When you see the way he exhales shakily, you finally release a giggle at his flustered state. “What? Are you really blushing that hard? How're you so cool as an emcee but your cheeks go red when a girl compliments you, Soobin?”

Soobin huffs out a laugh through his nose and rolls his eyes, pursing his lips to bite back his smile. Then he shakes his head. “Not just any girl.” 

This time, you feel a similar blush begin to cover your face. You attempt to joke it away. “I… I’m h–honored, I guess?”

Smirking at your stutters, Soobin simply averts his gaze from yours and goes back to packing up the recording equipment. “Speaking of honors, by the way. This isn't exactly what I was talking about.”

You frown in confusion. “Oh? So what is—wait. Why did you wake me up at five, then?!”

“Woah, easy!” he laughs when you get up and brace your fists on your waist, ready to throw hands. “I brought you here because having your first solo interview with Yeonjun would give you a good boost of publicity for your future with the club.”

“Ow, are we using him for clout?” You scrunch your nose up when Soobin proudly nods.

“Precisely. And also to give you a small rehearsal so that you know what all to focus on when you prepare for the freshman orientation that’s coming up soon.”

You freeze in the middle of a nod.

To prepare you for what? 

Your brain refuses to comprehend the words. He couldn’t possibly be talking about the orientation, right? 

Eyes wide and jaw dropped, you stare at Soobin while he seamlessly continues to speak.

“You're pretty comfortable with the mic and you actually enjoy interacting with groups. I still remember the clips your friend had shown me. Orientation stage requires the ability to interact well and improvise upon the script efficiently, because you’re tasked with making sure these bunch of seventeen year olds feel welcome into their new surroundings. And you, ma’am, happen to be an ace at both the arts.”

Still in disbelief, you sit next to him again and forward a hand to hold onto his forearm, bringing his focus back on you. “Soobin… are you sure? I’ve – I’ve been here for a month, and—”

“And you were amazing even before you joined us.” He turns to you to take both your palms between his, and says your name. A surge of sparks passes through your nerve endings at the warm contact, but Soobin’s gaze grounds you – it’s so open and honest that it compels you to believe every word he says to you. “You’ve only improved with each day, right? You will be great, I’m absolutely sure.”

Nodding slowly, you begin to smile when he does.

Giving your hands a jerk, Soobin points at the couple seated a few feet away. “Just you wait and see, you’re about to go viral when this bit is released. The one girl that remains unaffected by Choi Yeonjun’s charm? Oh, you’re gonna pull so many admirers within a week. Get ready for fanboys crushing on you and sliding into your DMs. Bet they’ll have a fan page up and running before your next public appearance.” 

You break into laughter, craning away from him at his teasing. But Soobin tugs at your hands to pull you back up, this time bringing you closer to him than you were before. The previous traces of playfulness have given way to a small, expectant smile on his face.

"Do I get brownie points for being the first in line?"

What? What? An awkward chuckle leaves you, quickly dwindling when Soobin's smile remains unchanged as he continues to look into your eyes. "What… what are you talking about?"

He tilts his head sweetly, giving your hands a small squeeze as he says your name. "As if I haven't been so obvious… You're the most talented member our group has seen in a while, you know? I can't look away from you when you're working and, like, initially I thought I was being a fan… But then I started to daydream about your bright eyes, gorgeous smiles, your cute giggles, your huge fucking heart that is always so kind to everyone, and…" Soobin pauses with a sigh, cheeks turning red and dimples flashing. "Come on, are you really gonna make me say it?"

Your breath comes in stuttered gasps as you try to gather your thoughts. "Soo–Soobin, I… I… Do you really…?"

"Really like you and really want to go out with you? Yeah, I do.” He smiles at you, bringing your faces close enough to boop your nose with his own. "Is there a problem?"

"You… like me?" You feel terribly confused, somewhat lost, and just a bit scared. If Soobin doesn't mean it with one hundred percent sincerity, you'll never recover from this hurt. So you just try to deflect: "But you barely know me?"

He pulls away with a small scoff of disbelief, eyes widening in surprise. "So it's believable for you to have a crush on me when you'd never even held a conversation with me, but you can't accept that I like you because you're the most beautiful, most intelligent and the most caring person I've ever met in my life?"

Your breath hitches on an exhale – and you're unable to breathe in again for long moments after that. 

He thinks you're beautiful, intelligent and caring.

He likes you.

He actually likes you.

Yeji's words of aggressive affirmative circle in your head: He likes you, boo, and he's probably got a list of reasons why.

She was… actually right? Holy shit…

You're so freaking emotional right now, you might cry.

A cross between a chuckle and a sniffle escapes you despite your attempts of stifling it, catching Soobin by surprise. His hands immediately let go of yours to cup your cheeks in concern.

"Hey, hey, what happened? Please don't think too hard about—"

"Soobin," you cut him off with a whisper. "I like you, too. So, so much."

A slow smile begins to curl his lips up, beautifully. "You do?"

"I have for so long. I… don't think I ever stopped."

"Even with the way I hurt you so bad?" His face becomes somber for a moment. 

"Yes, even then. You've shown me who you really are, Soobin, and that person is amazing. You've proven to me that I caught you in a moment of weakness, and… I think I understand it now more than ever." You smile when his lashes flutter, eyes gazing at you as if in wonder. "Besides, I think I forgave you when you first got me my correct coffee order with that cute smile of yours."

He blushes again. "Ah, so my smile is cute?"

"The cutest." You solemnly nod, cheeks still held in his palms. "Your whole face is."

"Well then, I hope you're okay with my cute face doing this?"

You know what is coming as you watch him erase the space between your mouth and his, and yet you're not nearly prepared for the way your blood turns electric the moment his plush, heart-shaped lips make contact with yours. Pure fire surges through you, body strung tight one moment and then fallen pliant in his hold the next.

Soobin's thumbs brush against the heated flesh of your cheeks, as if attempting to comfort your loud heartbeat – but it's to no avail. Your heart works faster and faster with every push of his mouth against yours, so full of giddiness that it eventually seems to levitaties up and above your body, leaving you weightless and breathless.

You try to kiss him back to the best of your abilities, but you feel like you've been entranced – held in a dreamlike state that has rendered you completely immobile and turned your brain to goo.

Soobin seems to recognise your condition, somehow, pulling away from the kiss with a chuckle brushed against your slightly parted lips. Lidded eyes look into yours with a smile held in them, his chocolate irises turned to thin rings due to how dilated his pupils are. 

"You good?"

His voice comes out all hoarse and breathless, making your stomach clench with desire and you're instantly spurred into motion.

Reaching out with both your hands, you grip onto the back of Soobin's neck and the side of his jaw, and this time pull him in for a proper kiss with equal participation. His breath hitches for a moment, but is released in the form of a small grunt when you open your mouth against his – and that is all you need to absolutely lose yourself into the taste and feel of Choi Soobin.

You would've probably stayed lost for quite a bit too, had a loud whistle not echoed around the arena, making both you and Soobin jump apart with startled gasps. Wide eyed, you look at each other, and then two stairs above you.

Yeonjun's girlfriend is grinning at you with her entire teeth on display, while the guy himself has his arm extended towards the two of you, thumb pointed downwards.

"Her first interview isn't even out yet, dude!" he calls out, booing Soobin with his entire arm. "Literally obliterating her popularity before she could even gather bitches, you're so lame and insecure, Soob, boo hoooo!"

Soobin tosses a random plastic case towards the guy, whining into your ear as he rests his chin on your shoulder grumpily. You giggle at his pout, entwining your hands together to bring them up and press a soft kiss to the back of his.

"Are we going on that date before or after the interview is aired, then?" you tease the guy, wiggling your eyebrows.

Soobin glares at you through playfully narrowed eyes beneath lowered eyebrows, until you're giggling again and he's kissing your smile. "Definitely before."

© yeonboy 2023 // do not steal, copy or repost. respect your local content creators, kaythanks.

[irisintheafterglow]

Heyy, can I request best friends to lovers with suguru geto pls? Maybe where reader is helping on the star plasma mission but gets a little jealous of Riko bc sugu is so focused on the mission that he hasn't spent much personal time with her?

Also! I adore the fic where sugu and reader are best friends on a mission together! Good work 👏

dazzling haze, mysterious way about you, dear

summary: on your last night on the star plasma mission, a trip for water becomes an interrogation.

wc: 1.5k

cw/tags: best friends to lovers, swearing, mild angst, satoru is the king of being unserious and you're having none of it

note: so many suguru fics that i will gladly provide🫡 also i'm sorry this took so long, i just started fall semester so my time has been a little limited lately. but thank you for the ask, i hope you like it!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated :D

It’s chilly in Okinawa, much colder than you imagined it would be. Despite the comfortable airflow of AC in your part of the hotel suite, something about the environment still felt stifling. It felt too empty, the bed too big and the sheets too barren. Water, you decide. Let’s get water and some fresh air.

Your intentions are abruptly thwarted by an idiot in the sitting room.

“Aw, come to check if I was okay?” Why do I even bother? You turn on your heel and head back in the direction of your bedroom, leaving Satoru pretzeled in his armchair. You’d just have to figure out how to fall asleep a different way, one that didn’t involve a change of scenery. Still, a loud whisper calls out to you as you make your way back down the hallway. “Hey, wait! Why are you actually up?” Giving him a skeptical look, your shoulder finds the side of the door frame and you cross your arms defensively. 

“Couldn’t sleep, duh. Why else would I be out here?” 

“Okay, grumpy, don’t duh me. I’m just wondering since you usually sleep the deepest out of all of us. Well, you and maybe…” His voice trails off and you watch the gears start to turn in his head. He knew there would be only one reason why you weren’t sleeping well. You shoot him a sour look preemptively and he narrows his eyes in suspicion. “Is something wrong between you and–”

“Alright, stop talking,” you state bluntly, pushing off the wall and finding your way to the corner of a sofa next to him. You want to slap the arrogant, aware-of-his-victory smirk off his face, but the daggers you’re staring into him are deflected by a shield of self-satisfaction. “Stop smiling like that, asshole.”

“Sorry, I just can’t help but laugh in the face of your suffering,” he shrugs with a patronizing lilt to his voice. You scoff and throw a pillow at him, to which he catches with one hand. Infinity off, you notice. He never turns on Infinity if it’s you, or Shoko, or Suguru with him. “Both my best friends are idiots in love, and both are suffering!”

“I think suffering is a little much.”

“Nope. It’s a little embarrassing, really.” His tone has turned to unabashed teasing and your face heats a little bit from pure indignancy. There’s no way Satoru put two and two together, right? Shoko’s epiphany was understandable; she seemed to always be watching, someway or another. Nanami only learned because Haibara figured it out first. You weren’t, however, anticipating the king of living in his own world to confront you. You put up a wall of confusion to hide the fact that he was poking dangerously close to your greatest secret. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb. Or do, I don’t really care. This is entertaining.” He flashes a condescending grin that makes your blood boil. Yet, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t find the courage to leave. Retreating felt like running away, and you were determined to withstand Satoru’s stubbornness. 

“You are the biggest asshole to walk this Earth, Gojo Satoru,” you bite, shrinking away a little bit when uncannily blue eyes burn into your retinas. Unease sits in your stomach as he stares at you like he knows every single one of your thoughts and memories. It’s a feeling you wouldn’t wish on anyone, being the sole target of the strongest sorcerer on the planet. It had your forehead perspiring and knee bouncing unconsciously.

“And you are utterly in love with Geto Suguru,” he states. 

“How would you know that?” You sputter, immediately back on the defensive. 

“How could I not? You’re staring at him eight days a week, 25 hours a day.” You wish you could summon a fork from your domain and stab his stupidly determined eyes. Still, you think gaslighting the strongest sorcerer and your nosy best friend is a plausible option. 

“You’re out of your mind.” He sticks out his tongue defiantly. 

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not, no take-backs.” You groan and lean back into the cushions, a hand coming up to cover your tired eyes. “So, are you mad at him or something?” 

“I don’t owe you any explanation,” you snap, but with significantly less fervor than before. He’d caught you. 

“You don’t,” Satoru agrees. “But, I also know you’re dying to get it off your chest.” You peek out at him from behind your fingers and he’s still staring at you expectantly. “Well?” You exhale deeply before speaking, stalling the inevitable. 

“I’m…angry?” It’s more of a question than a statement and he snorts haughtily. 

“You don’t sound very sure.” 

“I hate you,” you glare. Of course, he wouldn’t take seriously anything you’re trying to verbalize.

“No, you don’t. Continue,” he ushers you on with a wave of his hand. “Why are you angry?”

“It’s dumb,” you mutter indignantly, silently praying he gets bored and drops the subject. However, the honored one is relentless.  

“You have a crush on Suguru. Can’t get much dumber than that.”

“What about being jealous when we aren’t in a relationship?” 

“You don’t need to be in a relationship to be jealous, you know.”

“Yeah, but it feels so wrong to want him when we’re supposed to be focused on the mission. I just want to make sure he’s okay.” 

“And, you want him to make sure you’re okay?” He’s right on the money and you despised it. 

“I guess so.”

“You know, he already does that about four million times a day,” he says, like the information should be obvious to you. “Check on you, ask if you ate, bring you water, the usual. It's up to you how you want to interpret that, but I think it's clear as glass.”

You exhale again, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees and your face in your hands. “I don’t know what to do, Satoru. I can't think clearly when he's around and I feel so immature.” 

“You’re not asking the right person for advice, you know.” You stiffen at the voice coming from the darkness of the hallway, his voice. Three thousand trains of thought derail all at once when he steps out into the moonlight of the room, looking absolutely stunning despite having just woken up. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, but you must be really desperate if you’re going to Satoru for advice before me,” he jokes as he sits down next to you on the sofa. He’s in such close proximity that you can feel the warmth radiating off his body and faintly smell his shampoo. 

“And the world must be ending if the deepest sleepers I know are both awake at the same time,” Satoru adds, shooting you a knowing look for half a second before returning his focus to Suguru. “If you two are taking over watch for a few minutes, I’m gonna go take a shi–”

“Please, leave before you finish that sentence,” Suguru interjects as Satoru’s body lankily disappears down the hall. You’re suddenly struck by an unwavering feeling of awkwardness, something you’ve never felt before with Suguru. He must have sensed the way your body tensed up, too, since he respectfully positions himself away from you ever so slightly. “Nightmare?” You shake your head, too exhausted and too emotionally drained to answer. “Thinking?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, fiddling with your fingers. You can feel his dark eyes staring at you, but you don’t look up at him for fear of him seeing the burning shame on your face. “Just thinking a little too much about the mission, is all.” 

“Just the mission?”

“Yeah,” you lie, and a glance at his face reveals a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What has you so entertained?” He chuckles softly under his breath, the faint light catching the sharp outline of his jaw. Fuck, you think. He’s so beautiful. 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve been awake since I heard the door of your room creak open,” he informs you and your stomach drops to your knees. “So I–”

“Heard everything,” you finish and put your head back into your hands, face on fire. “Just ignore whatever I said, rationalize it as a weird-ass dream or something–”

“Why would I wanna forget what you said?”

“Because you have bigger things to focus on,” you laugh, a little cynically.

“And I’m only able to focus on them because I have you to ground me,” he replies nonchalantly.

"What do you mean?"

“I like you too, genius. I thought it was obvious that I can barely see straight when you’re within a ten foot radius.” You smile, genuinely this time, and scoot back closer to him until your shoulders are touching. Carefully, your pinky reaches for his and eventually interweaves all of your fingers together. He lets you rest your head on his shoulder, inhaling deeply against your temple. 

“Can we do something about this after the mission is over? I don’t want to put more stress on either of us,” you whisper. 

“Of course, we can,” he murmurs, pressing the lightest kiss to your forehead. “Take your time; I’m already all yours.”

“You’ll wait for me?”

“However long you’ll let me.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 34

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. Please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Also, Merry Christmas! I'm sorry I've been AWOL for the past few weeks, but I finally got a chance to write again and wanted to get this short part to you before Christmas. It will act as the finale to the first book of A Sweet Mishap - I definitely want to continue writing about this couple, but I think this is a nice way to wrap it up for the year and I'll come back with a sequel in the new year.

Potential Trigger Warnings: mentions of violence, rape, therapy, depression, sex

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I rise early, with the sun like usual despite not having to work today. I refuse to get out of bed until I absolutely have to. But I prop myself up with an obnoxious amount of pillows and drag my laptop over from the empty side of the bed onto my lap. I’m determined to submit all my assessments today before my session with Dr. Katelyn, slowly removing stresses one at a time.

I carefully read through each word and sentence making minor edits as I go and then with a deep breath hit submit on each one. For once, I actually feel highly confident with my essays, knowledge and with the grade that I hope to receive. Despite working myself to the bone all semester with so many priorities to balance I feel I actually managed to submit work that I’m proud of. I attribute it to my steadily improving mental health and clarity.

Once I close down my college tabs I decide to try to do a little planning of my own for the summer. Jensen’s organised so much, a lot that I don’t even know yet–just that he’s got surprises that I’ll like. I grew up in such a small area, yet I know he’s mostly lived in the larger cities, so my plan is to give him more of the country. I research diners and hiking trails and make sure some of my favorite spaces are still operating. The list of things I want to do is extensive, but I know, as much as I want to take the full three months, Stewie will need me back at Mamma Jo’s. He’s agreed to a month so far, but I could tell even that long concerned him. He only agreed becuase he knows he can rely on the juniors, which I promised to train up before I leave Thankfully, most of them have a lot of potential and are fast learners. As I’m searching through sites a Facetime notification pops up and I answer instantly.

“Hey Darlin’! You look comfy.”

“Good morning, Handsome. I am, but there is one thing that would make me comfier…”

“Less than a week and you can fall asleep in my arms every night for a month.”

“Except when we visit my parents…”

“Yeah, except then. But you’ll still be nearby, not a country away.”

“Yeah. I can’t wait! I was actually just researching places I want to take you back home.”

“Really? Any hints?”

I shake my head, “Nope! You’ve got your secrets, I’ve got mine.”

“Fair enough. You got therapy soon?”

“Two hours.”

“They’ll probably need me on set by then. I just wanted to check in while I had a chance.We’re pushing hard to be finished by Friday, I have no doubts. Then there’s just the wrap party that night, then I’ll see you.”

“I wish you could come to my last show…”

“I wish I could show you off at the wrap party. But it’s okay, we get a whole month together in Texas and that means so much more.”

“I really can’t wait. I submitted my assessments this morning, so I’ve just got therapy, a few more shows and my last few shifts at the cafe. I’m counting down each day and each road block. You know I’ve brocken so many of my New Years Resolutions, and I couldn’t be happier. And I owe most of that to you, so thank you.”

“Anything for you. I love seeing that smile on your face, especially knowing I helped put it there. But that’s just it, you’re doing all the work, I’m just here to cheer you on and offer support when you need it. You really are a star, I just want to watch you glow and reignite that spark that others tried to dim.”

I smile at him, then bite my lip as I remember I conversation from my last session with the doctor. “Jens…I thanks…Also, I’ve been meaning to…” He stays ever patient and smiles as I ramble, letting me get there on my own, “I talked to Dr Katelyn last week about my issues with intimacy and some fears, concerns, thoughts about our holiday. I know we’ll be alone alot and likely sharing a bed while we’re at your place and I just…I want to be open to things, but I feel like I’ve never-Nothing’s really ever been on my terms. I’ve always just gone along with what the guy wants. She suggested that maybe I should treat this relationship like a first. Like I’m in highschool and we’re touching each base. Slow and at my pace.”

He nods the whole time. “Of course. Everything is on your terms with me. I’d never push. I’m happy to cuddle, maybe make out and if we don’t have sex during the trip that’s fine. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like I’m expecting anything, because I’m not. I just want to spend time with you. And if you decide it’s too much to sleep in the same bed every night, you can go into the guestroom whenever you want. We can make sure it’s set up nicely for you so you can have a comfortable escape when you need it. A space that’s all yours and I won’t ever go into unless you want me to. We can set it up on the first day if you want. You can choose whatever decor you want.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that. But Jens, what if…What if I want to…you know, have sex at some point?”

“If we get through the first three bases and you are 100 per cent on board and comfortable with going the home run then we tackle that base like all the others. Slow and at your pace. And if we start and you need to stop then you just tell me and we stop, but I’ll be reading all the signs your body gives me and if I think it’s too much I’ll stop it, just like last time.”

I nod, “Okay. Do you mind if I continue to talk to Dr. Kate about it today?”

“I hope you do. But you never need my permission to talk about anything with her. There’s no NDA here, and even if there was it wouldn’t pertain to our relationship. Anything between us is fair game. I think you already know that, but I’ll remind you as much as you need, that will never change.”

“Thanks.” I glance down at the time on my computer screen. “I should start getting ready.”

“Alright, Beautiful. I’ll talk to you tonight. Have a good session and a great day.”

“You too-You have a great-You know what I mean.”

“I do. Bye.” He blows me a kiss as he ends the call and I can’t help but blush. As I drag myself out of the comfy bed and into the shower I think back to that day in December. I really did win the lottery when I accidentally spilt that hot cocoa on him. That was the best sweet mishap I’ve ever made.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

@speakinvain, @deans-baby-momma, @1967winchesterimpala

@lmg14, @superrey, @kamisobsessed

[love4layla]

LOVE YOU, INSIDE AND OUT

A/n: After Chapter 430,

Izuku x Psychologist!Fem!Reader

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───

You were UA’s school Psychologist, you loved your job and you loved the kids that you’ve helped. You had been working there for a while, you got hired around the same time Deku got offered teaching job there.

You were delivering papers around to the teachers about their students wellbeing when you got to Deku’s door.

Deku was taking notes and planning his new lesson. He mumbled out loud, to himself about what his lesson was going to be for second semester. He was exhausted.

The knock brought him out of his own world.

“Come in…”

You walk in with a high stack of papers. “Hey Mr.Midoriya. Just came to deliver mail to the classrooms” you give a sweet smile.

Ever since he started working here, he had his eye on you from the moment he saw you. He thought you were so cute and the fact you cared so much about your students and your job. He loved talking to you.

He looked at the stack of papers with wide eyes, letting out a small sigh.

“Thank you Y/n. This the last of your deliveries, right?”

“Oh- pfft- barely! I still have all of the C, D and E classes” you say a little happier than you actually were.

He raised an eyebrow before realizing how much you actually still had left to deliver.

“Do you need any help?” He asked you.

“Im sure you have a lot on your plate. I’ll manage” you turn around to walk out but you walk right into the bulletin board in his office. Bumping and falling back “Ah- ow!”

His eyes widened at seeing you bump into the bulletin board, immediately rushing to your side, putting the papers onto the ground.

“Woah! Y/n are you okay?!” He looked you over, checking for any visible injuries.

Your face reddens “Yeah I’m good!” You stand up and pick up all of your papers. Noticing one had dropped from the bulletin board.

“Staff Christmas Party”

His expression lit up, seeing the papers about the christmas party on the floor. He remembered the last christmas party, smiling warmly as he picked it up.

“The Christmas party is this Friday. You’re going right?”

Your heart beat picks up. You didn’t want to go. Besides you have nothing nice to wear and you would just end up making a fool of yourself there anyway.

“Ah-! Uhhhh no! Nope! Sorry I’m not going. I mean! What would I even wear?! ahaha!” You nervously babble

He raised an eyebrow curiously, surprised to hear you weren’t going. He stared at you for a moment before speaking.

“You’re not going?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.*

You shake your head “No. I- I don’t think I would know anyone there! I mean I’m just the school psychologist. I mean.. I don’t really hang out with the teachers much”

His expression shifted to a softer one, his lips tugging into a frown, not liking how you thought that way. You were just as important as any other teacher was here.

“You shouldn’t think like that. It’ll be a fun party! And teachers love talking to the staff psychologists.”

You were getting a little nervous. You were running outta excuses. “Look. I just don’t wanna go. I have papers to do for some new students I have and-“

He raised his hand up, stopping your excuse before you could finish your sentence.

“Y/n, the party is in three days from now. You have plenty of time to finish your paperwork, it won’t take you that long.” He raised his eyebrow slightly at you. “Plus, this is Christmas, you should spend it with friends and family.”

He smiled sweetly “It’ll be fun, I promise. You won’t be disappointed by going.”

“I’ll think about it.” You say as you walk out of his office and continue to deliver his papers

He shook his head, sighing a bit more before sitting at his desk to finish his papers.

*A Few Days Later. AKA; the Day of the party*

You were in your office, you had been talking to students all day about their issues and helping them through it. You write in your notebook and set up coping skills and other ways to help them out. You loved your job a lot.

As the day let out, it was 2 hours before the party. You stared at the flier and you contemplated going.

Meanwhile, Deku was grading more papers, trying to get it all done before the party. Drowning himself in any work he could finish. He let out a small yawn to himself as he finished another paper, setting it into the pile. He stretched in his seat, glancing at the time before glancing at the papers.

“Ah… crap.” He swore to himself under his breath, his back was killing him.

You head home and look in your closet for something nice to wear. You decided to wear some dark blue jeans and a black rib knit turtle neck with some gold jewelry. you do your makeup really light and your hair in a beautiful bun with some hairs draping down over your face. Then you get into your car and drive to the party.

Hw had schanged into a dark green dress shirt and black pants, the top button on the dress shirt undone. He styled his messy hair to be somewhat neat. He decided to take a taxi to the party instead of driving himself

You showed up a little late. You knock on the door and a gorgeous lady opens it. She’s tall and blonde and had huge fucking boo-

“Hi! Your here for the party? Come on in sweetie” she said as she let me inside.

You walk inside and you see people drinking. Making out and dancing. You look around and you see Izuku talking with some people he knows, a cocktail in his hand

Deku was talking to Aizawa, the two of them talking and chatting about things. He glanced at the door as guests started to arrive, his gaze resting on Y/n. A small warm smile tugged his lips as he watched you walk in.

He didn’t realize he was staring until Aizawa tapped his shoulder, causing him to snap out of it and turn his focus back onto the other two as they kept talking.

You walked in and he gets up to talk to you. Your nerves high as you fidget with your purse “Hey!”

“Glad you were able to make it, you look really pretty.” He said before taking another small sip of his drink. You didn’t need to be a detective to see that he was a little bit tipsy.

You sit down with him at a couch and he smiles at you. “You want something to drink?” He lifted his mostly finished drink in his hand curiously.

“Uhm sure..I don’t normally but-“ before you could finish he was already placing a drink in your hands. You take a sip and your face scrunched up “shit- that’s sour”

Deku let out a small laugh at your response to the drink. He was starting to fully let loose, seeing how you reacted to the taste. “Oh c’mon, it isn’t that bad.” He said with a soft smile and a small laugh, taking another sip of his drink.

You were so tense basically still in your seat. Swirling your drink around and drinking it in sips. Deku noticed almost immediately, furrowing his eyebrows together slightly. “What’s wrong? You seem tense? Something bothering you?”

“Nothing im just a little nervous.” You respond.

He raised an eyebrow curiously, taking another sip of his drink as he looked at you. He knew you weren’t the biggest fan of large parties or gatherings.

He scoots closer to you. His eyes all over your body. “It’s alright. You can relax. Just have fun” he smiles and laughs. He stares into your eyes and then wander. Eventually leading to his mouth betraying him

“Damn… you look really good in those jeans” he mumbles

Your eyes widen hearing him say that. You look at him “What the!-“

He turned bright red, realizing his thoughts came out of his mouth. He shook his head, trying to change the subject and snap himself out of it.

“Ah- n-never mind. I didn’t mean- I mean. I had a lot to drink tonight and- You look- Sorry” He stumbled and babbled.

You finish your drink. Feeling it sink in. “you think I-…look good?”

He rubs the back of his head with his scarred hand “Y-Yeah. I think you look really good in that outfit.” He was trying to not stare at you, but his eyes kept falling down onto your thighs.

“Pfft- No! No way! I’m not anything special. I think you look good like- good all the time!” You ramble a little. Someone handed you another drink and you started to drink it.

He was not expecting that from you, especially right now. He drank the rest of his drink as he heard you slur a little bit, thinking it was kinda cute.

He moved closer to you, moving his face close to yours. He was already a little bit of a touchy person when he was drunk.

You were clearly drunk too. Giggling and leaning on him. “That’s great….”

He let the silence linger for a moment, his eyes flicking down to your lips, then up to your eyes for a brief fleeting moment. He felt all of his emotions and feelings for you at this moment. And he couldn’t stop himself.

He leans down and kisses you. His tongue coming in almost immediately. His breath was heavy.

You broke the kiss and looked at him “you don’t want this….. I’m not good enough for yiu..”

He stared at you, completely serious when he spoke. “Don’t say that, you are more than enough for me.”

“I’m just the schools stupid Psychologist.. you like-.. a pro hero.. I don’t even have a quirk!” You retorted

“So what?..” He brought you onto his lap. He hated how you talked about yourself. His tone was a little bit more harsh than normal. “Quirk or no quirk. I like you, Y/n. I don’t care what your job is or the fact that you don’t have a quirk.”

“You like me? Really?” Your eyes were wide

“Ofcourse I do.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing to him. The alcohol in his system was definitely making him a little bit more expressive and bold then he normally was.

He stared at her with a soft, warm look, letting his hands move closer and gently grab hers, intertwining them in his. His cheeks were flushed, his breath lightly smelling like alcohol.

You u two hung out for the rest of the night. He drank some water to sober himself up a little, or at least enough to make conscious decisions. But you on the other hand drank even more.

You ended up being the focus of the night, dancing with Izuku and shaking ass an all that.

You two ended up kissing a lot but everyone was drunk so no one cared. Deku was trying to get you to drink water so you didn’t get yourself sick, but his attempts didn’t work.

At the end of the night you were too drunk to walk. Babbling and clinging to him.

You yawned and giggled “I’m sooo tired.” you yelled then laughed.

He smiled at your drunkenness. “Where’s your car honey?” He asked softly. “It’s over….there!” You pointed towards the door then giggled

He helped you walk outside the house to the steps. You giggled and almost fell down, leaning against him. “Woah there Y/n,careful” he giggled

You pointed at your car down the street. “I’m going home now!” You announced as you stumbled down the stairs, almost falling flat on your face.

“Woah there Y/n. Your way too drunk to drive home on your own” he grabbed your hand and lifted you bridal style

“Heyyyy let go of me!” You slurred, surprised.

He sets you in the passenger seat of the car. “Give me your keys baby. I’ll drive you home.” He demanded gently.

You reluctantly roll your eyes and dig in your purse. Hading your keys to him. He gets into the drivers seat and starts the car.

“Uhhm….where do you live?” He asks , forgetting he actually has no idea where you live. You hand him your phone unlocked and he types in “Home”

He drives 30 minutes to your apartment and lifts you out of your car. You weren’t able of walking on your own. He unlocked your door with your keys and opened it.

Your apartment was small but cute. Tidy and smelled very good. Your dog started barking at Izuku.

“Lutherrrr!…stopppit.” You whine in his arms to your dog

He laughed softly, looking down at the dog near his feet. “Your dog is so adorable” He laughed with a warm smile.

He set you in your bed, tucked you in and started to head out of your place. “Izuku~ don’t leavewe I’m sorry.” you slurred. “I love you… what did I do wrong?”

He heard your words and immediately felt horrible. He knew you were drunk. “You didn’t do anything wrong Y/n…” he walked back over and sat at the edge of the bed. He didn’t want to leave you here like this. He felt like he needed to stick around for a bit to make sure you were okay and not alone.

“I love you Izuku~ I want you to stay here with me forever” you cling to his waist. His eyes soften seeing you so clingy and drunk.

He kissed you on your cheek. “I love you too Y/-“ you pull him into another kiss and it turned into a make out. You slowly move onto his lap. His hands wrap around your waist

He kissed you back, his face flushed. He kissed her deeply, his tongue intertwining with yours. His hands fell onto your hips, holding onto you slightly and pulling you closer.

he pushed you down on the bed so he was towering over you. His large biceps straining against his shirt while supporting himself over you. “fuck I need you so bad~” you moan, your eyes glassy.

He kept kissing you, grunting under his breath. His hair was starting to get messy, some of it falling into his face. It definitely didn’t look as neat as it did before.

His lips moved down your neck, leaving light bruises on her skin from how roughly he was kissing you, “god your so beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do this since I met you”

He kissed your lips deeply, before he pulled away again after a moment, his eyes glancing over your body. You both were clearly drunk and both not thinking straight but he didn’t need to be sober to know he wanted you.

You look down at his chest as he stars unbuttoning his dark green shirt. You bite your lip softly seeing his tones abs and his V line

He tossed his shirt aside, not even concerned about it. His body was very built, his abs bulging and his collarbones visible. His body littered with scars and freckles. His cheeks were flushed.

He takes your turtle neck off to reveal your beautiful tits, the way they bounced softly when he took your shirt off made him so hard.

“Wow.” He stared for a moment, his eyes falling to your tits immediately. He moved down closer, planting light kisses against your chest, before moving back up to your lips. He unbuttons your jeans and pulls them down.

“Oh my god~ your fucking unbelievable~“ he groans softly, running his hand through his green locs. his cock getting harder setting the matching set of your bra and panties. Black lace underwear with red cherries on them.

He takes his pants off and his boxers “You okay if I—“

“Please~ please Izuku”

He cut you off, moving himself a little closer to you and settling between your legs. His fingers hooked into your underwear, tugging the fabric gently off. He sees the wet spot on your panties and groans. “Goddamn~ your already wet? God, you’re beautiful. So beautiful. I-I don’t deserve this.”

“Please~ Izuku! Goddamnit! Please I need you so fuck me so bad!” You moan and slur, your face red asf and your body hot.

“I- I need to prep you first.. I-I’m not sure you can handle me without it” he rubs the back of his neck.

“Mmmmn~ fuck I need you” you grip his biceps, your fingers not being able to wrap all the way around his bulk arms.

He takes his pants off and the eye widen as the size of his length. “Holy-“ you whisper in awe. He was easily around 9 inches and GIRTHY.

“Ha- yeah I know…too much?” He nervously asks.

“Never…. Fucking never” your hand wanders to his cock and feels the massive size of it. He lets out a shakey high pitched moan “Fffuuck-“

“Okay. Okay…. Here we go” he slowly seeps into you and your back arches. He stops when the tip is in, but you already look like you’re at your limit.

“Goddamn! Fuck Izuku!” You grunt and yell. Your eyes filling with tears to the stretch. “Just a little more baby…” he tries to comfort you.

He pushes in and grunts loudly. “Fuck! Holy shit your tight Y/n” he pushes half way in.

You felt like he was going to rip you in half with any more. You were too drunk to function right now and you could only focus on the way his cock filled you. “fuck~ Izuku! Ahhh~”

He pushes all the way in with a loud moan “Aahhh~ Fuck, okay… I’m in. You doing okay baby?”he moans and pants

You nod. You moan and pant loudly, almost grunting to wake yo your upstairs downstairs neighbor.

He moves and thrusts hard, your headboard hanging against the wall. Your tits bouncing and his hands digging into your hips as he pounds you good.

“Goddamnit! Fuck! Yeah? You like that huh?” He moans.

“Fuck~ fuck your the best thing that’s ever happened to me Y/n~ I’ve wanted to fuck you till you couldn’t think straight for so long now~” he rambles as he fills your hole over and over again.

You couldn’t think straight, stool was dripping from your mouth as you got fucked senseless. You finally cum around him, forming rings around his cock of your hot fluid.

He feels the warmth of your cum in the velvety walls and that pulls him over the edge “Oh my- FUCK~” he grunts as he creampies you.

He turned softly and then flips next to you. Pulling you close and staying inside of you. “Fuck~ that felt so good. Your amazing Y/n”

You both end up falling asleep together. Not what he expected to happen, but he’s not complaining.

MasterList<3

[emerysaks]

heyy could you do a fluffy cartinelli fic where they're old ladies living happily ever after

Thanks for the ask! Gal Pals

A/N: This ask is set in 1981 when Raiders of the Ark premiered. The Uptown Theater was a movie theater nestled in Washington, D.C.’s Cleveland Park neighborhood. Built in 1936, it hosted several world premieres, including Jurassic Park, and it was one of the 32 theaters to play Star Wars on opening day.

Peggy ended up in DC with S.H.I.E.L.D. in this universe, and Angie followed.

***

“Hurry up, darling. We’re going to be late!” Peggy glanced at her watch and sighed. After almost 35 years, she should be used to Angie running behind schedule.

“Hold your horses, English. I’m coming,” Angie grumbled as she came into the room. “Some of us had to work today and are exhausted.”

“Were your students troublesome?” Peggy teased. She placed her hand on Angie’s back and ushered her through their front door.

“Summer classes are rarely troublesome, Peg,” Angie corrected. “They just get excited because of the summer musical revue.”

Peggy turned the key in the lock and tugged at it. Satisfied their home was secure, she turned to Angie and offered her arm. Angie slipped her own through and shrugged. “Honestly, I shouldn’t complain. Most of the teachers would kill to have interested students.”

“Most teachers didn’t share the stage with Julie Andrews and Carol Channing,” Peggy observed.

Angie rolled her eyes. “I was in the ensemble. I don’t think Julie knew my name until you showed up and started talking in the same posh accent.”

“Such a lovely woman.”

“Meanwhile,” Angie pressed, “I don’t think my resume impresses my students.”

Peggy let her eyes trail down Angie’s form before resting appreciatively on the soft curves of her bottom. “Perhaps not your male students,” she smirked.

Angie scoffed. “I’m 56, Peggy.”

“And they’re hormone-fueled college students. Trust me, I’ve been to your shows. I’ve seen how their eyes wander,” she growled.

Angie slapped her hand against Peggy’s arm. “Stop it. You’re almost 60.”

“I’ll never be too old for jealousy, darling.”

Angie threw her a sly grin. “Are you too old for other things?”

Peggy tugged her closer. “We don’t have to go to the movie tonight,” she winked.

“Nope! I’ve been dreaming of movie popcorn all week,” Angie told her. “We’re going.” She glanced at Peggy and cleared her throat. “We can talk about that… later.”

“Flirting aside,” Peggy smiled, “your students love you, as evidenced by the waitlist every semester. They’re going to be heartbroken when you retire.”

Angie nodded and smoothed a hand down her dress. “I’ll miss them, too.” She gazed thoughtfully at Peggy. “Was it hard for you? Leaving the field and becoming a Director? I know retiring from teaching college drama isn’t the same, but-”

“Darling, I’ve told you many times. Your job is not lesser than mine.”

“You saved the world from Hydra, Pegs. And aliens. And that one guy who could talk to slugs.” She pursed her lips. “That one was weird, and I still don’t fully understand it.”

“And you educate the minds of future generations,” Peggy interrupted. “I daresay your job is more important.”

“Do you miss it?” Angie pressed again.

Peggy grew pensive. She’d been Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. for over thirty years but still sometimes longed for the adrenaline-fueled missions in a foreign country. She’d always enjoyed fieldwork, and although she occasionally participated in missions here and there, her job these days tended to be at a desk, sifting through requests and dealing with bureaucratic nonsense.  

“I do miss it,” Peggy admitted. “I miss the camaraderie in the field. The satisfaction of capturing an enemy agent. Going to sleep at night sore and bruised but knowing the world’s a little bit safer because of it.”

“I don’t miss it,” Angie told her softly. “I hated nights waiting up for you. Hoping you were safe. Cleaning up your bloodied face and hands. Watching you while you slept and wondering if you’d return the next time you left.”

Peggy sighed. She knew all of that. She’d only been released from the hospital for a few days in March 1977 before she tried to volunteer for a mission her team could handle without her. When Angie found out, a particularly explosive argument ensued. In the end, Peggy had trudged into Howard’s office and told him she needed to scale back fieldwork and focus on how she could best serve S.H.I.E.L.D. from her desk.

“I know, and I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.”

Angie smiled and bumped her shoulder against Peggy’s. “Well, I probably shouldn’t have said some of those things back then. But,” she continued, “it’s much nicer getting to see you every day. Nice to worry less, too.”

“You might not have to worry if Johnson gets his way,” Peggy scowled. “I’ve never seen someone campaign so hard for an unavailable job.”

“Oh, please,” Angie rolled her eyes. “They’ll have to pry your cold dead body out of that chair before you willingly leave.”

Peggy frowned. “That’s a big dramatic.”

“Am I wrong?”

Peggy smiled but didn’t answer. “Tell me again what we’re seeing?”

***

“Raiders of the Lost Ark?”  Peggy asked, studying the poster plastered outside the Uptown Theater.

“Yup!” Angie grinned.

“Han Solo made a biblical movie?”

Angie laughed and nudged Peggy in the ribs. “Don’t pretend you don’t know the actor’s name. Besides, I know you secretly think Harrison Ford is a dreamboat.”

Peggy turned away from the poster and frowned. “What? No! I merely said he was a nice-looking man.”

“Come on, Pegs. Any time we pass a Star Wars poster, you glance at it appreciatively.”

Peggy huffed. “He’s young enough to be my son.”

Angie giggled. “And Greer Garson was old enough to be my mother, but that didn’t stop me.”

“You always did have a soft spot for English accents,” Peggy murmured affectionately.

“You think?” Angie laughed and slipped her arm back through Peggy’s. “Now, let’s go get some popcorn and find a seat. I’m excited to see Han Solo beat the Nazis.”

Peggy looked startled. “What?”

“You’ll see,” Angie promised. 

***

Peggy found their seats and waited for Angie to sit before taking hers and handing the giant bucket of popcorn Angie had insisted they buy. As she sipped her drink, she watched Angie fish a bag of candy from her purse, followed by another box of Cracker Jack.

“Retrieving a measuring tape or lamp out next?” Peggy asked dryly.

“I understand that reference,” Angie smirked. “And no, I’m not. But I refuse to pay what they want for a box of Cracker Jack.”

“So, you resort to candy smuggling.”

“Whatever it takes, English. I’m saving money. Be grateful.”

Peggy shook her head in amusement and passed the soda to Angie. 

Angie took a long sip and gazed at Peggy. “You know one of the best things about being old ladies now?”

“I thought we established that we’re not old.”

“Hush, grandma.”

Peggy rolled her eyes but said nothing.

“Nobody gives us a second glance when we go out. We’re just two older – okay, middle-aged ladies – spending time together. Best friends. Gal pals.”

Peggy snorted inelegantly. “Gal pals. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that one.”

Angie laughed. “Yep. Gal pals. Getting popcorn and sharing a soda.”

The lights dimmed, and cheers broke out in the theater as the opening credits began to play. 

Peggy felt a warm palm slip into her lap and brush against her thigh. She glanced at Angie. Her lover’s eyes were fixed on the movie screen, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. 

Peggy placed her hand over Angie’s and laced their fingers together. She leaned over and felt Angie shudder when her lips brushed against her ear. 

“What else do these gal pals share, darling?”

Angie turned her head until her lips were almost touching Peggy’s. “I promise to tell you all about it when we get home tonight, English.”

Peggy’s pulse quickened, but ever aware of their surroundings, she pulled away and returned her gaze to the screen. Giving Angie’s hand a squeeze, she settled in her seat and watched Indiana Jones swing across a deep chasm, off to seek his ark and adventure.

[honeyjars-sims]

1.47 I Won't Be Home for Christmas

Lexie: So I guess this is Christmastime in Del Sol Valley.

Johnny: Yeah, it’s no winter wonderland. I bet it’s more festive in Brindleton Bay. Are you going there for Winter Break?

Lexie: Well, I was supposed to, but my mom just told me that she and my dad are going skiing on Mt. Komorebi this year. 

Johnny: Oh, that sounds nice. Are you going with them?

Lexie: Nope. It was pretty last minute and they won’t be getting back until after the new semester starts.

Johnny: You sound disappointed.

Lexie: I am. I didn’t get to see them on my birthday, and now this. I’ve never not spent Christmas with my parents. It’s extra hard because I’ve been feeling a little homesick lately. I’ve never been away from my family this long.

Johnny: I’m sorry, baby. You’re welcome to spend Christmas with me and my family if you want.

Lexie: Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.

Johnny: Yeah, my parents would love to have you over! They’ve been hounding me to bring you around.

Lexie: Well, in that case, I’d love to come! I have a feeling your family knows how to entertain.

Johnny: Oh, for sure! There’s never a dull moment when we get together. I know it doesn’t make up for you missing out on time with your family, but I’m glad we’ll get to spend the holiday together.

Lexie: Me too. Christmas has always been a big holiday in my family. I was just thinking about my favorite Christmas memory. When I was 6, my parents surprised me with my favorite stuffed animal. You remember that little white dog from the dog food commercials?

Johnny: Yeah, he was so cute!

Lexie: I was obsessed with that dog. Apparently they made him into a stuffed animal and that’s what my parents gave me that year. I named him Snowflake and I took him everywhere. After a while he was more of a dingy gray.

Johnny: Aw, that’s cute! Do you still have him? Don’t tell anyone, but I still have my favorite stuffed cat from when I was a kid and I still sleep with it every night.

Lexie: I think that's sweet! Unfortunately our dog mistook Snowflake for a chew toy. My mom tried her best to salvage it, but it was a lost cause. I wish I still had him, though. Maybe having Snowflake to cuddle up with would help me feel less homesick.

Johnny: I’m sorry you’re missing home so much. I know I can’t replace Snowflake, but if you ever need a cuddle buddy, you know I’m here.

Lexie: Hmm, well, you’re not as soft and fluffy, but you’re still pretty cuddly. What’s your favorite Christmas memory? 

Johnny: Well, Christmas growing up was pretty rough. We didn’t have much money and my mom usually had to work so it was never much of a thing in my house.

Lexie: Oh, I’m sorry. I keep forgetting you didn’t grow up like I did.

Johnny: That’s ok, I haven’t really talked about it much. Maybe I’ll tell you more about it someday. But things were much better once I moved in with my dads. 

Lexie: That’s good. What do they do for the holidays?

Johnny: Well, Dad is Jewish and Pops grew up Protestant so we do a secular “Chrismakkuh” thing where we combine traditions from Hanukkah and Christmas. On Christmas Eve we make cookies and popcorn and hunker down in the living room for the night to watch cheesy holiday movies. We get our sleeping bags and make snarky comments about the movies. 

Lexie: Oh, like those movies where a woman goes back to her hometown and discovers the true meaning of the holiday season, which always involves a guy?

Johnny: Yep. Our first Chrismakkuh together, my parents kept trying to get me hyped up, but I wasn’t having it. I was just being a typical 14-year-old who was too cool to hang out with his family. But I ended up having a great time. That’s probably my favorite memory. 

Lexie: It sounds like a lovely one.

Johnny: It was. I remember waking up the next morning with the TV still going and seeing the rest of my family still snoring away in their sleeping bags. That was the first time I really felt like I was home.

Lexie: I’m glad you finally got to make some positive holiday memories. That must have meant the world to you.

Johnny: It did. And it means the world to me that I’ll be making memories with you this year.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[skibasyndrome]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

Thank you so much @darktwistedgenderplural, @wilmonsfolklore, @iwouldnevergetintofanfic & @earlgrey-lateatnight for tagging me in this!!!! This is so much fun!!! 💜💜💜💜💜

How many works do you have on Ao3?

17! (but only 12 of those "count", the other 5 are 6+ years old)

What's your total Ao3 word count?

107,628

What fandoms do you write for?

Young Royals

Top five fics by kudos

You crave the Applause / Yet hate the Attention

Lavender Haze

It's in the water, baby

Never Letting You Go

Close, Closer

Do you respond to comments?

Yessssss, I really want to reply to every comment I get because I appreciate people taking their time to write them a lot, but sadly I've been super busy this semester and so there are quite a few still waiting to be responded to. But!!! I've seen them, I have and continue to feel over the moon about them and some day you'll all get your replies!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

If we're only talking about the current fandom... none? I don't think I've ever given anything an angst ending. I don't even know if I'd be able to do that with Wilmon

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

By that logic, all the rest lmao. I think the ending that made me personally most giddy/happy for my blorbos was probably Lavender Haze because the potential, the big feelings that don't have a name yet, the I-really-wanna-see-you-again of it all? Yeah that one feels the happiest.

Do you get hate on fics?

Not usually, no. Although I had one salty anon who apparently thinks writing about characters being attracted to each other qualifies as fetishizing the actors? Lot to unpack there.

Do you write smut?

Yepppp

Craziest crossover:

I don't think I've ever written anything that could be considered a crossover

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yeah, in the early days of me writing fics people would go around and just... copy a whole fic and post it to their blog instead?

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I get comments asking me if people can translate my fics, but I haven't seen a translation thus far, no.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! Would love to try it some time though

All time favourite ship?

Wilmon all the waaaaayyy

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Ugh the list is so long. One thing that I'd LOVE to write but I'm just not sure I've got it in me worldbuilding-wise is a fic where wilmon are ancient greek heroes to be

What are your writing strengths?

I've been told that "filth with feelings" is one of my strengths. Oh and some of my favorite compliments have been ones that said I was good at really getting into a character's (let's be real, it's Wille's) psyche

What are your writing weaknesses?

How long do you have lmao? Idk where to start, hmm. I think I just always question myself and every choice a little too much in general, I have a very weird mix of perfectionism and impatience going on, I start too many new things before old ones are finished, my English isn't as good as it could be, I don't know when to stop rambling...

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I really don't see why you wouldn't use it. I think it's a nice little touch, at least I like it a lot on YR fanfic. It needs to make sense of course, but why not have a casual little "nej" somewhere, I think that's fun!

First fandom you wrote in?

One Direction, in ye olden days (2012) lol

Favourite fic you've written?

Oh this is difficuuuuult, aaaaah. But tbh I like Lavender Haze and the sequel All this shit is new to me a lot. Those are my sweet, sweet babies, because, I think I've said this before, this is my first multichaptered Wilmon fic that isn't "just" pwalp (=porn with a little plot) and I feel like I get to try myself out a lot with All this shit. I like the process of writing it and as for Lavender Haze, there are just some tiny elements in there that I feel immensely proud of.

I'm gonna (very much no pressure) tag @grapehyasynth, @oneofthosebells, @toffeelemon, @goldenwilmon & @piebingo and anyone else who sees this and hasn't been tagged yet (and if I'm double-tagging, apologies!) 💜

[seatwilite]

Why I'm Afraid of the Dark

Chapter 1 The dream

 I look down as a beautiful girl lays peacefully asleep on her bed.

Who is she?

She startles awake at the loud cracking of wood in a fire. Heat from all sides starts to surround us, and I start to sweat. My throat goes dry, but my focus is on the girl.

Her blond, disheveled  curls hangs down to her waist; her startling blue eyes are petrified. As an afterthought, I notice how the nightgown matches her eyes perfectly.

Smoke starts to engulf her and she coughs. The smell of smoke fills my lungs, and I start to choke, too.

She starts crying from the smoke in her eyes. The heavy smoke stings my eyes, and they start to water. I can't see clearly.

My breathing becomes labored and I can't seem to speak.

She throws back her covers and makes a mad dash to the door and tries to pull it open... But she pulls back almost instantly, and I smell the burned flesh of her hands.  She looks down at her blistered hands.

I try to kick the door open, but it seems to be blocked from the outside. Who locks people in their rooms and sets them on fire?

I try to get her attention, but for some reason, she doesn't seem to notice me.

"Help!" She cries out.

She coughs again. Tears are streaking down her face and I want to help her... But how?

"Somebody let me out of here!" she shouts.

Her voice is rough, and she begins coughing uncontrollably.

"Let me out! Please! Let me out." She begs.

Then she turns right to me.

"Jason! Help me!" she cries.

I startle awake. 

Sweat is dripping down my body and my lungs still burn like they are full of smoke. I try to get my heart to stop pounding and my breathing under control.

I stare over at my door where the girl had just been standing.

What the hell was that?

Chapter 2

Jason

I sigh exasperatedly as I look over at my boxes. My entire life has been reduced down to three stinkin' boxes! Not to mention, mom wants these boxes emptied yesterday! 

Give me a break! We didn't get out truck unloaded until 11pm last night, due to mom's crazy 12 hour shifts at the hospital! We should have waited until the weekend to move like normal people do. But NO! Mom wanted out stuff out of dad's place ASAP! And she couldn't be bothered to wait 4 more days to move.

So, here I am, on a Wednesday morning, looking at my pile of boxes full of stuff that I just don't have time for! I'm gonna be late for school! But does mom even care? NOPE!

Why couldn't I have stayed with dad? I mean, at least he spends time with me! Dad is a lawyer, but still takes time out of his schedule to hang out with me. He spends time after work and plays catch with me. Last year, when my baseball team went to state, he was there watching me. Cheering me on, like I was important to him! And on weekends, he'd make us big breakfasts and we'd hang out! Did mom ever do that? Again... I say NO!

Seriously, if I don't leave now, I'm gonna be late for school! So I grab my backpack and throw it over my shoulder and hustle to the door. Just as I'm about to reach my freedom, mom calls out to me.

"Did you eat breakfast, honey?"

"Nope. Didn't have time," I say.

Mom tosses me a breakfast bar and continues, "It's not healthy for you to skip breakfast! I've left you 20 bucks for you to order whatever you need for dinner tonight. I'll be home late again."

"Kay, mom, I'm gonna be late for the bus!" I groan.

"Love you honey. Have a good first day of school," she says and turns back to her computer.

I tear open the door and dash down the hallway, not noticing anything on the way to the stairs. I rush through the foyer and pass through the sliding glass doors.

I pump my legs as fast as I can and beat the bus by about 5 seconds.

I sigh as I take my seat in the middle of the bus and look around.

This is gonna be a long day

Chapter 3

The New Kid

Here I am. 18 years old. Mid March, of my last semester, Senior year. My life sucks!

If I would have stayed with dad, I wouldn't be the New Kid! I'd have my old friends, my old school, my baseball team.  Why did mom have to move us to the next time over?

When I graduate in 2 months, I'm going to move away to college, just to become a janitor! Rich people suck!

I walk into my first class of the morning. History.

I take an open chair in the middle of the class room, hoping to blend in with everybody else.

"Hey, I'm Charlie! Welcome to Lake Side!," the guy next to me greets.

"Hey, man. Thanks! I'm Jason. My mom and I just moved into the Mansion Suites last night," I mention.

Charlies face pales and his jaw drops.

"Is something wrong?" I ask.

"Oh, no! It's just..." Charlies looks nervous

"What?" I am so confused!

"It's really nothing. Your new and don't know the history. But really, it's cool! It's beautiful," Charlie insists.

Before I can ask him what is going on, the teacher, Mr. Murry walks into the class room and sits at the edge of his desk and looking out at all of us.

"Welcome to class, everyone. We have a new pupil with us today! Jason, would you like to introduce yourself?" Mr. Murry asks.

My face turns red. I knew this was going to happen, but I really had hoped  that maybe it could have waited until after lunch. I hate being the center of attention, unless I'm up to bat. Which I guess I am.

I clear my throat. "Hey, guys. I'm Jason. I just moved into the Mansion Suites with my mom. I play baseball, and when I grow up I want to be a janitor!" I joke.

Everyone laughs at that and I take a seat.

"Thanks for that Jason. Okay, so everyone pull out your books and turn to page 253. Jason just follow along until you are all caught up. We will be continuing our lecture about the Vietnam War," began Mr. Murry.

I was glad to know I wasn't behind at all, but I wasn't going to let anyone know that.

During lunch, I sat with Charlie. It turned out we had quite a few classes together, which was cool because I like the guy. It's nice to have a friend, especially since I was so worried I wouldn't have any, being new. He gave me his number and told me we could do homework together.

"So, what were you saying about my new apartments?" I prompt.

"Well, it was a long time ago," he says evasively.

"What happened along time ago?" 

Charlie sighs. "Well, back in 1999, there was this rich family. But one night there was a fire and everyone died. But like I said, it was a long time ago, man. Not that big of a deal."

"Was there a girl?" I ask, feeling kinda weird about asking.

"Actually there was a daughter, She was the heiress to the family fortune, but since she died, she obviously didn't get to inherit anything," Charlie states.

But then he looks at me suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"

"I had this weird dream about a girl getting stuck in a burning room..." I reveal.

Charlie gasps. "What did she look like?"

I thought back to the dream. "She had long blond curly hair, and blue eyes that matched her nightgown," I say dazed.

"She was in her nightgown?" Charlie asks curiously.

"Well, she woke up with the sound of the smoke crackling, so yeah, she was in her nightgown," I say like it is no big deal.

Charlie smiled at me. "Was she pretty?" he asks.

"Yeah, she was. But she was also scared and crying," I responded.

"Huh... That is really strange. I never actually looked up what she looked like. Never really thought about it since it all happened before we were even born," Charlie shrugged.

By the end of school I was ready to go home and take a break. I told Charlie I'd text him later and climbed on my bus.

My mind was reeling over everything I learned at school. And I wasn't talking about the Vietnam War!

Chapter 4

Taylorsville

I look into the empty fridge and growl. She couldn't even bother to go shopping? We have bread and peanut butter, but I'm way too hungry for that. My stomach growls to punctuate the statement.

I grab my wallet, keys, cell phone and the 20 mom left me and leave.

As I exit the building the sunshine hits my face and I sigh with the weight of depression leaving me. It's a beautiful day! I can just hang out outside and find some food since I have to be the adult in the family.

The streets of Taylorsville are bustling.  I look around and see a bunch of preteen girls giggling as they come out of an ice cream parlor, I see a girl and a guy heading down to the park holding hands. Bunch of guys hanging out by the video game arcade.  Tons of moms pushing their kids in strollers. Men and women entering the gym down the street. The strip mall looks like a happy hive of bees, and the feeling is positive and happy.

I spot a pizzeria. Perfect!

I enter and the bell over the door chimes happily and I almost laugh. It's like I've been living under a dark cloud the last year, watching my parents fight. Not to mention me arguing with them just to get their act together. They were both ruining my life, but I guess it didn't matter much what I said. They never listened to me anyway. And now, here I am. On my own, and happy for the first time in a long time... Maybe it's just the pizza!

A pretty brunette greets me.

"I'd like to order a medium pepperoni pizza and a 2 liter of root beer," I say.

She smiles. "Sure! You expecting friends?"

"Nope, it's just for me. But I just moved here with my mom, and our cupboards are empty, so I figured I could have leftover pizza until mom decides to go shopping," I joke.

She looked a little sad at that. But then put on her brightest smile. "I'll bring it right out!"

I take a seat and look out the window. I love people watching! They are so funny sometimes. The little kid throwing down his popsicle, throwing a temper tantrum while his poor mom looks mortified. A group of teens arguing about who knows what. Maybe they are making early plans for the weekend. Man on the phone, probably making a business call.

"I'm so glad they finally opened up the Mansion Suites," and older lady from behind me says.

"Me too, especially after all the tragedy!  Took the city long enough to get through all the red tape," another older woman says.

Now, I really didn't mean to eavesdrop... But they were literally right behind me! What else could I do?

"It's such a shame that whole family gone! And no living relatives... well," the first lady chuckles, "not that aren't in jail and have forfeit any right to that fortune!"

"I heard Bert isn't doing so well. Don't know how much longer he'll survive. I'm still surprised he is even living! 20 years to life in prison couldn't be easy. And it's been what? Close to 22 years or so?" the second old lady says.

"Here's your pizza and soda. I Hope you have a great day!" she smiles at me.

I smile back. "Thanks!"

I was thinking about eating my pizza here in peace, but not now...

I grab my pizza and root beer and head out the door.

Time to do some research!

Chapter 5

Alone

I've been home for about an hour trying to get to my laptop. As I was putting my clothes away, I swear I heard footsteps down the all. I even peeked to see if mom was home early. Of course she wasn't! I was hanging up some of my nice shirts and there was someone whispering in my ear, but I couldn't tell what they were trying to tell me. I've never been afraid to be alone before. It takes a lot to scare me, but since last night...

I've been getting goosebumps up and down my arms at all the creeks  and groans from the apartment. I didn't know new places made noises like that. I always thought it was older houses that made moaning noises. But the Mansion Suites are brand new!

I finally got enough of my stuff put away to pull out my laptop...

At least mom won't be able to say I didn't do anything!  I put a whole box and a half away before I found my computer.

The one thing about having rich parents is, for my last birthday, they bought me a top of the line laptop. I turn on my computer and I don't have to wait forever for my search engine to pop up before I make a search for Mansion Suites because I didn't know what it was called before.

And right there, her picture shows up. She really is beautiful. Her name was Danielle Winters, and this building used to be called the Winters' Mansion.

A rustling sound over my shoulder startles me.

"Hello?" I call out.

There is a giggle, so soft I'm not sure I really hear it.

"Is anybody there?" Great... Now I sound like I'm in a horror story where I go and check my closet and get my head chopped off by an ax murderer!

"Get a grip, Jason! No one is here, and no one is going to chop off your head!" I reassure myself.

After that motivating pep talk, I get back to the article.

It seemed that the father, Arthur Winters had a brother Bert. But Arthur took Burt out of his will due to his brother being a drunk and couldn't hold a job. He didn't want the moocher to take his hard earned money and use it for alcohol. 

Not that I blamed the guy!

Arthur was the head of a very prominent law firm and he earned all his money the hard way, and had every intention of giving it to his daughter, who wanted to grow up to be a doctor so she could help people.

Huh...

One night Burt got drunk. It says he went in and locked all the occupants in their rooms, then took gasoline and spread it through out the house. He lit the match and walked out of the house. It says he must have tripped a silent alarm because the cops where there as he was exiting with the gas can still in his hands. But they were too late to stop the fire.  The fire experts say he lit the fire right in front of his brother's room, which was also across the hall from Danielle's room.

There was another article about what the remains of the house and property. There was no next of kin on the will so the whole thing got caught up in red tape for about 20 years. Then the city said they wanted to restore the house, but turn it into an apartment complex and bring in more money, since you have to be stinkin' rich to live in this place.

There was another article about the brother. I didn't read very much. Just that he said he was haunted by his brother and his family. He couldn't sleep at night without seeing the fire. He didn't even fight in court. He knew he was guilty and gave a full confession. He hoped by telling the truth that the hauntings would go away, but according to a recent psych report, he is still have nightmares.

There was a small article about Danielle and her achievements.  She had the highest GPA in school, a 4.2 (way to go extra credit!), she was going to intern at a near by clinic in a year after she graduated high school. She was on the student council, and she did ballet. She loved horses and had her own, somewhere out in the country stabled by some friends. Her biggest goal in life was to help those less fortunate than her, and make healthcare more affordable. Good luck with that!

A soft giggle tickled my ear.

"Danielle?" I whispered.

Suddenly, darkness is encroaching upon me from all corners of my room.

The last thing I remember is a chilly kiss being placed on my cheek and a girl whispering my name.

Chapter 6

Home

I'm surrounded by warmth. Visions play across my mind, all of them blurry, but I'm not worried. I feel calm. Happy.

Smoke fills my lungs.

I startle awake, still sitting at my desk, but my laptop screen has gone black.

I cough.

What's going on?

I look around and my room has caught fire, just like Danielle's room did. The thick smoke makes it hard to see, let alone breathe!

I push away from my desk and run blindly for the door.

"Help! MOM!" I scream.

I finally run into my door and grope around for the door knob, and yell in shock as it burns my hands! Dark blisters appear on my stinging hands.

"HELP! Anyone! GET ME OUTTA HERE!" I call out, and start coughing again.

I can't breathe. I'm having a panic attack. I'm gonna die just like Danielle!

"Danielle! Help me!" I plead.

"Jason!" she smiles at me.

I collapse to the floor. The room is spinning and I can't see through the dark smoke. I'm so disoriented! 

Danielle kneels before me and smiles down at my face.

Why is she so happy?

"You tried to help me, even if you couldn't," she whispers. "So, now, I will help you!"

She leans down and kisses me.

Sudden lightness fills my being. Like a weight being lifted from my shoulders.

I can breathe and no smoke enters my lungs.

She pulls me up into her arms.

I still feel disoriented, but differently now.

I look down and notice a crumbled heap that used to be my body, but I don't seem to care.

I look back at Danielle and smile down at her.

"Welcome home, Jason! I've been waiting for you," she says as she puts her arms around my neck. She giggles.

Well, if I'm stuck in eternity, at least I won't be alone anymore...

[bardic-inspo]

Unsolicited Lore Dump

Thanks to the wonderful @paganwitchisis and @pinkberrytea for the tags! This is such a fun get-to-know you game!

Do you make your bed? No and I have no shame about it because I honestly don't really see the point. I straighten the covers at night before getting in.

Favorite number? Numbers greater than 10 with 2 in it! 12, 22, 32, etc.

What's your job? I work in HR, but not in hiring/firing/performance management. I do benefits administration, specifically for a closed pension plan. This means I work with a lot of retirees and older folks. I also work on transitioning active employees into retirement, benefits for beneficiaries when someone passes away, and setting up benefits splits resulting from divorces.

If you could go back to school would you? Not full time, no. I am too burnt out to flourish in that environment. I did 18 credits + two jobs my last three or so semesters of undergrad and that fried me something awful even this far removed from it. BUT, if I could cut my work schedule in half (without a drop in income) and take 1-2 classes at a time, I certainly would. I'd like to take foreign language classes, and I've always really love social sciences courses. I have a minor in poli sci that could be cool to turn into a complete degree/major.

Can you parallel park? Decently, yes. I could with my old compact car, but I'm much better now that I have a back-up cam.

Do you think aliens are real? Yes in the sense in that the universe is vast and it seems highly unlikely we're the only life forms in it. But I don't think it's anything like movies or video games might make it out to be. I think it's also possible that lifeforms used to exist elsewhere or will someday exist elsewhere but have either gone extinct or haven't yet emerged.

Can you drive a manual car? Nope, and I don't really have interest in learning.

What's your guilty pleasure? I'm working hard to have less and less guilt about any pleasures I have. But I suppose I'd say fanfic and hyperfixating on video game characters in general. Beyond just enjoying the game itself; really deep diving and getting sucked into a character or character(s) and running through rabbit holes imagining them in all sorts of scenarios, AUs, etc.

Tattoos? Yes! I have carpe diem on one foot, and a celtic triple spiral on another, gotten at age 18 and 19 respectively. I want to get a dragon someday, and have toyed with the idea of getting a 'sister' tattoo with it of willowherb (said to be the first sort of plant that comes back after a forest fire). I've also toyed with the idea of the dragon in more of a resting position, breathing to life a little campfire.

Favorite color? Purple or blue. I also like winey colors (reds and purples)

Favorite types of music? My music taste is incredibly eclectic, but I'd broadly say pop rock or pop punk.

Do you like puzzles? Sort of! I like ones that are hard enough to make me feel smart. I get easily frustrated by things I can't figure out somewhat quickly, though. I enjoy sudoku.

Any phobias? I struggle with bugs, though I've gotten marginally better over time and can handle small spiders on my own, now. Due to a real, real rough apartment experience, I generally freak out about mice as well. I can keep my cool if they're in an enclosure like in a pet store, though I don't like looking at them there, either. I also have a recurring dream about accidentally driving off a cliff and so I get super tense and nervous driving on bridges.

Favorite childhood sport? Swimming.

Do you talk to yourself? In the car, or if I'm alone for a longer period of time. I work from home on Mondays/Fridays and find myself doing it more often those days.

What movies do you adore? Oh gosh, I honestly don't often rewatch movies, I'd generally prefer to watch something new instead. But uh, the LotR trilogy is pretty precious to me. Dune 2 was great! I liked Get Out and Nope. I remember liking Dr. Sleep a lot, too, but I only watched it once and it's sort of a blur in my memory. Recently watched Saving Private Ryan for the first time and it kind of fucked me up. I'm pretty eclectic in what I like with movies.

Coffee or tea? Black coffee. Death before decaf.

First thing you wanted to be growing up? I think maybe an author. Also a fairy godmother for a long time. I still kinda wanna be both.

No pressure tags!: @electricshoebox, @halkuonn, @snowfolly, @tragedybunny, @tallymonster,

@scrytpe, and @mutualcombat <3