#i've been too busy and too lazy lately

[pineapple-frenzy]

Bedge Kuko and cat doodle :3

This ended up being a sort of part 2 of that one drawing of Kuko with the tangerines, which wasn't really my intention but it kinda just happened alyvsgjjvjjsg

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you're finally back in yokohama after spending three years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night.

(wordcount: 7.1k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, f!receiving oral, gunplay, knife play (ish), spitting, pussy drunk!dazai (as always), light choking, overstim, office sex, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys. GUYS. i had so much fun writing this, this is finally usurping in paper rings and picture frames as my fav fic that i've written. HAHAHH. i hope you guys like it too!!

You hear the door to your office swing open, and you press your lips together tightly, irritation swimming through your head as your grip tightens on the pen you’re using to fill out your paperwork. It’s already late—you’re tired and your head hurts, but you can’t leave the building until Akutagawa comes to hand you the report for his failed mission so you can pass it up to the boss. And you know that whichever subordinate this is, it’s definitely not Akutagawa because the boy would rather claw his own throat out than walk into your office without knocking. 

Which means it’s some upstart new recruit who has no manners and is likely going to make your night worse. You think being away for so long did some real damage to your reputation—three years ago, the lower ranked mafiosos avoided your floor like the plague, they didn’t barge in like they owned the place, but then again, you also had a certain dark-haired executive (ex-executive now, you remind yourself bitterly) lurking around your floor constantly trying to get your attention, and if people weren’t nervous enough about you, they were definitely terrified of him.

“Five seconds to explain why you came into my office without knocking or I’m putting a bullet through your fucking skull,” you say, voice acerbic, not even bothering to look up, the fingers of your free hand closing around the gun you have holstered at your side. 

“There’s a few too many cameras in the hall for my liking to stand out there and wait for you to open the door.”

The fact that he manages to dodge the bullet shot in his direction is testament to his skill, but you’ve known Dazai Osamu long enough to know that when he dodges to the side, nine times out of ten, he dodges left, so you drop your pen as soon as you pull the trigger and swipe the knife laying haphazardly on your desk, launching it in his direction. You watch as his eyes widen just a bit when it impales the wall right next to his ear, just barely nicking his skin—both a warning and a threat.

“My, my, bella, you’ve gotten faster the past few years,” Dazai grins, unperturbed, smile as reckless and lazy as the day he left four years ago as he plucks the knife from the wall. “I’ve missed you too.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Dazai?” you ask, voice cold and sharp as your finger rests against the trigger of your gun. “How did you get up here?”

“Security’s gotten lax since I’ve been gone, I guess,” Dazai shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth as he makes his way over to your desk. “You should probably do something about that.”

“Dazai,” you say, keeping your voice low and trying to reign in your temper. There are no cameras in your office, but the hall leading here is littered with them, hidden ones that were recently installed that he wouldn’t know about, if any one of them caught his face and it’s reported to Mori… “You think I won’t drag your ass to Mori myself? What the fuck are you doing?”

You’d have to, or it would be your head on the line for betraying the Port Mafia—you know better than anyone the treatment that traitors get, considering you were the one that dealt with them up until you were sent abroad three years ago to handle Mori’s foreign politics. 

“I don’t know, will you?” Dazai counters, head tilted to the side as he takes a seat on top of your desk next to you, a smile on his face that makes you think he knows something that you don’t.

“Maybe,” you answer, finger twitching on the trigger as you keep your gun pointed in his direction. 

Dazai is completely unbothered, leaning down until his nose is nearly brushing yours, lips tugged up in an unbearable smirk. 

“Then do it,” he challenges, and you glare at him, jaw tight and eyes hard. He reaches out, fingertips brushing your skin, and you feel like you’re on fire beneath his touch. You hate that your body still betrays you to him. “Don’t look at me like that, bella. I won’t even resist, I promise, as long as you promise to be the one to put a bullet through my skull, so your face can be the last thing I see. Ah, that would be a lovely death, wouldn’t it?” 

“You’re a fucking freak, Dazai,” you spit out, but make no move to get up or grab your phone. “What is wrong with you?”

Dazai doesn’t respond, only winking at you. Instead, his gaze shifts to the side and his hand drops from your face to his lap again. You hate even more that you miss his touch immediately. 

“You still have my couch,” Dazai notes to himself quietly, an odd tone to his voice as he stares at the dark couch in the far corner of your office, where he’d bundle himself up under blankets to avoid Chuuya, because Chuuya used to avoid your office like the plague when the three of you were younger.

“It’s my couch,” you say tightly, even though you know no one has touched it since Dazai left, and the ugly orange blanket he liked so much is still draped over the back of it, and it probably still smells like him. Your throat feels swollen, and you steel away your emotions and continue with, “I’ve hardly been back here since you left, anyway. What do you want, Dazai?”

“I heard you were finally back in Yokohama,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”

“Fuck off,” you say roughly. “So you decide to break into the main base of the Port Mafia and come all the way up to my office? You know where my apartment is, you could’ve shown up there. What do you really want?” 

“It’s the truth,” Dazai says easily, and his dark eyes meet yours—both of them, you note, and wonder when he decided to shed the bandages that covered his right eye. “I was at your apartment for a bit, I got impatient and came here instead.”

He’s telling the truth.

Oh, you realize—the clogged feeling in your throat is coming back, you force it away again and lean back in your chair, looking away from him to turn your gaze to the window. It’s well past midnight already, the moon is high in the sky and the stars are glittering above. In the distance, you can see the Ferris Wheel of Cosmo World glowing a bright purple color and a string of flashing red and blue lights as the police chase after someone.

“Why?” you ask finally, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the two of you. 

“I told you,” Dazai says quietly, and your eyes turn back to him. He looks… happier, you can’t help but note. A sick part of you feels jealous—you’re not sure if you’re jealous because he’s free and you’re still stuck in this place, or if you’re jealous because he’s happier and he’s happier in a life without you. You think it might be the latter. “I miss you.”

“Don’t give me bullshit, Dazai,” you snap, still trying to push away all of the feelings you’ve repressed for so long. “Get out of here before you find yourself killed. I’m not going to turn you in, but I’m not saving you if you get caught.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Dazai tells you, voice sharp in a way that it only ever is when he’s starting to get annoyed. “I-”

A knock at your door cuts Dazai off mid-sentence. Both of you freeze, Dazai looks at you as if waiting to see what you’re going to do, and you can so easily finish this now, let whoever is at your door in and drag Dazai back down to the torture room where he belongs, but instead you find yourself reaching for him. Your hand intertwines with his hair roughly, and you revel a bit in the hiss that escapes his lips as you yank him off the desk and roll your chair backward, kicking the back of his knee so that he crumples to the ground and you can push him beneath your desk. 

You lower your gun to your lap so you can keep it pointed at him and then glance down at him—he looks caught off-guard and disgruntled at being manhandled, but you think it's a bit funny how cramped he looks under there. 

“Not a single word,” you warn before fixing your chair and raising your voice. “Come in.”

Akutagawa wastes no time stepping into your office, nodding his head in respect as he makes his way over to the chair on the opposite side of your desk, a bundle of papers in hand. He doesn’t hand you the pile right away and he looks uncharacteristically nervous, and you raise your eyebrows, wondering what the issue is. 

“I am… unsure how to fill out some of the report,” Akutagawa says, unable to meet your eyes as he stares at the windows behind you. “The operation was… not a failure but not a success. The whole mission was in disarray, I do not know who was doing what at certain points.”

You stare at Akutagawa. “What do you want me to say to that?” you ask him, leaning back in your chair. “It’s your job to know that as the field officer for the mission. If you can’t handle that, Hirotsu will take back the position on the next major operation.”

Akutagawa bristles. “I can handle it,” he says, voice clipped. “This mission was just more chaotic than-”

“Than usual?” you ask idly, watching as he stiffens as your interruption. “This was child’s play, it’s unlike you to make excuses, Akutagawa.’

“I’m not making excuses,” he says immediately, “but…”

Akutagawa continues talking, but your attention is ripped away when you feel Dazai shift beneath the desk. You press your lips together tightly, stiffening as his hands rise to your thighs, spreading them a bit so he can settle between them. You glance down, he’s already peeking up at you, dark eyes glittering in a way that has you on edge. 

Don’t you dare, you warn silently, but Dazai only takes it as further encouragement, pressing his lips to your clothed inner thigh, you can feel the warmth and wetness through your slacks. It takes all of your self-control to not inhale sharply when he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh until his mouth is hovering right above your cunt. 

You press the muzzle of your gun against his temple. 

He smiles. 

Your jaw clenches as he licks a long stripe between your legs through your slacks, making sure to press his tongue down hard over where your clit is hidden through your clothes. Akutagawa is still talking, oblivious to what’s happening beneath your desk as he airs his complaints about the mission. You could stop Dazai, place your foot on his shoulder and push him off of you, but you don’t, notably—you don’t want to acknowledge that though. You only vaguely hear Akutagawa’s issues, something about interference from a third party—the SDUP? What the hell were they doing there?— and Kajii blowing up an escape route. 

“Give me the report,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence, and holding out your hand. You’re grateful that your voice comes out steadier than you feel with Dazai trying to tongue fuck your through your pants. 

As you lean forward to rip the papers from Akutagawa, you tense, feeling something sharp press against your inner thigh. Sitting back in your seat and glancing down, your eyes cut down to Dazai, who still has the knife you’d thrown at him and is using it to cut open your very expensive slacks.

You have half a mind to drive your foot into his face, but you refrain. If only barely.

It’s a miracle that you can keep your breath steady, because as Dazai cuts your pants, he kisses every inch of open skin that’s revealed to him. His lips are warm, wet, familiar—so familiar that your legs are instinctively spreading for him, giving him more room to work.

Your eyes scan the report but the words are just jumbled letters and not making any sense. Every time you try to understand, you feel Dazai’s teeth graze your thigh as he marks up your skin. You tense when you feel him bring the knife much closer to your cunt, to finish cutting off the material—you press the muzzle of your gun harder into the side of his head, warning him to be careful. You glance down only to see a hazy smile on his lips as he winks up at you, as if he’s drunk just off of the idea of what’s about to happen.

He works efficiently as always, freeing your lower body of your slacks and panties as quickly as possible, and he wastes no time burying his face between your legs. Your lashes flutter and the grip you have on your pen tightens dangerously, you think it might snap. Dazai’s tongue slides between your folds, lapping up the slick that had begun to pool—you know that if Akutagawa wasn’t sitting a few feet away, Dazai would be making a snide comment about how he knew you wanted him.

Dazai’s tongue flicks over your clit—you can feel him staring up at you, watching for every little reaction, the way your lip tightens as you bite back moans, the way your eyelids unconsciously start to slide shut, the way your breath is just a bit heavier than it usually is. 

This is so dangerous, you think to yourself desperately. If Akutagawa of all people figures out that Dazai is here-

You nearly choke when Dazai shifts a bit underneath the desk to kneel at a better angle, grateful that Akutagawa seems to be too busy wallowing in his own mistakes to notice your struggle. Your gaze  snaps down again, his eyes have fluttered shut as he buries his face deep into your cunt, nose pressed to your clit as he pushes his tongue into your hole and you can feel the way he lets out a silent, but shaky breath, barely holding back a moan.

You notice his free hand slide from where it was propped on your thigh down to his beige pants, fingers fumbling with the button as he desperately tries to slip his hand beneath his waistband to touch himself. You kick his wrist hard, using your foot to pin it against the side of your desk, watching him wince and withdraw his hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you can never say no to. 

God, he’s pathetic, his lashes are wet and his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossed over with pleasure as he looks up at you and you know you’ll let go of his wrist if he looks at you like that any longer, so you turn your gaze back up to Akutagawa, who’s staring at his lap and waiting for you to finish the report.

“Get out,” you tell him, voice sharper than you intended. Akutagawa’s eyes snap up to you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Go, I’ll handle this.”

“But-”

“Your job is to take orders, not question them,” you bite out, watching frustration flash across the boy’s face as he rises to his feet. You’re not usually this harsh with the kid, but you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last and Akutagawa cannot be in here when you cum. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach and that familiar hazy feeling clouding your mind. “Out, Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa inhales sharply but nods, turning stiffly on his heel to leave your office. As soon as the door to your office clicks shut, Dazai is pushing the chair backwards until the back of it hits the windows behind you, shifting into a more comfortable position as he resumes fucking you with his tongue in earnest. 

He moans into you, wanton and shameless, any restraint he had because of Akutagawa’s presence is long gone. While he was careful to not make noise before, now the sloppy sound of his tongue dragging in and out of your cunt drowns out any other noise in your office, he sucks and slurps, he’s so disgusting, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you, a man who’s been starved for years.

The knife clatters to the ground as he reaches up with both hands to grab your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders so he can push his tongue even deeper inside of you. Only sheer pride drives you to push away the creeping fog as Dazai’s tongue slides back up between your folds to draw figure eights around your clit.

“I should pull the fucking trigger, pulling this shit when he was in here,” you spit out, head falling back as a breathy noise escapes your parted lips when Dazai sucks gently at your clit. He moans again, as if the idea itself turns him on—it probably does, he’s always talked about wanting to die between your thighs. “You’re a fucking freak, Dazai.” 

He lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it's a laugh or another moan, maybe a mixture of both, but he’s too focused on drowning in your cunt to respond. Four years without him and you’ve forgotten just how good Dazai is with his tongue, working your body as easily as he did when the two of you were eighteen and seeking each other out before meetings and between missions for a quick fuck. You hate it—you hate that he’s treating you as if nothing has changed and you hate even more that your body is this responsive to him. 

Betrayal, you think, your own body betrays you for him. Again.

“Fuck,” you gasp the word out when Dazai rolls your clit between his teeth gently, sending a jolt through your body that throws you off just enough for that fog you’ve been fighting off to finally win. You choke over a moan, head pressed back against your desk chair, forearm coming up to press against your forehead as your eyes slide shut. Your free hand finally finds its place in his hair, tightening around his dark locks, he lets out a whimper against you, tongue flicking over your clit. “Like that. Just like that.”

You can hardly keep your head on straight as he traces letters around the sensitive bud, you try to figure out what he’s spelling but you’re too far gone. Your head is light and your chest is heaving. You’re barely able to bite back moans as your thighs tighten around his head, hips rocking against his face. You don’t even know if he can breathe, you don’t think you care, so close to the edge that your entire body is tingling and trembling; you don’t think he cares either from the way he’s moaning into you.

It takes one last suck, one last swirl around your clit, and you’re crying out his name, spots dotting your vision as your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face impossibly deeper into you as you grind your hips against his face. God, it feels never-ending, a noise too close to a sob nearly escapes your lips as Dazai ardently laps up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cum this hard—with him, probably, you realize bitterly. None of the one-night stands you’ve had over the past few years have ever compared to him.

You’re still reeling even as you force yourself to straighten in your seat, not willing to let him know just how badly you’re thrown off by how intense your orgasm was. Your head is still spinning, vision still blurring, but you lift your leg and press your foot to Dazai’s shoulder, kicking him back and forcing him out from his position between your thighs. 

He grunts, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he falls back on his ass, pouting up at you as he tries to catch his breath. He looks debauched, lips swollen and wet, your cum smeared on the lower half of his face. His cock is straining against his beige pants and his eyes are still glazed over; he’s looking up at you with an expression that’s nothing short of reverent. 

God, he’s gorgeous. 

You hate him. 

You’ve missed him. 

You shift in your seat and Dazai is lifting himself to his knees, immediately leaning closer, a hazy smile on his lips as he angles his face up and pointedly parts his lips, sticking his tongue out. You know what he wants and the heat that had been slowly dissipating returns with a vengeance, breath catching as you look down at him.

“You’re gross,” you tell him, watching the corner of his lips quirk up even as he keeps his tongue out and waiting.

You don’t deny him. You never can. 

You shift forward, rising to your feet and reaching out to grab his chin, angling your face down. Your grip is too tight, it’ll leave bruises behind and you think that’s the least he deserves so you only tighten it a bit more as you lean over him. You don’t give him what he wants, not right away, letting the saliva gather on your tongue as you observe him, the way his pupils are blown wide and his chest is hardly rising and falling, as if he can’t even let himself breathe in anticipation.

Disgusting, you think again, but it’s fond this time, much to your displeasure.

You decide to put him out of his misery, letting the spit dribble from your mouth down to his. His eyes roll back as soon as it hits his tongue, and your hand slides from his chin to curl around his neck—not tight, just firm enough to feel the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

He lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering back open as he looks up at you, entirely blissed out. Your hand slides down more, curling around the ugly bolo tie he’s wearing in place of the black one you’re used to. You tug it hard, beckoning him to his feet; he acquiesces, albeit on shaky legs. 

Immediately, his hands find your hips as he pushes you against your desk, spinning you around to face it before his hand presses between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend you over it. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in demeanor, something you’ll never be able to get used to no matter how many times you fuck him; it always caught you off guard back then, it still catches you off guard now. He pulls off the remnants of your destroyed slacks and immediately is grinding his bulge against your ass, a low moan spilling from his lips. 

“How many people have you been with?” he suddenly asks, and you can hear him fumbling to unbutton his own pants. There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t like—something caught between jealousy and possessiveness, and you nearly want to scoff at it.

“What the fuck, Dazai?” you spit out, appalled and not expecting the question. “None of your damn business.” 

You turn your head to the side to rest your cheek on the desk, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes are still a bit hazy but there’s a tight expression on his face, reminiscent of the one that would be directed toward you whenever he stumbled in on you entertaining anyone other than him years ago. 

“Humor me,” he says, voice cold and eerily familiar. If you weren’t looking at him and if you couldn’t see the tan coat and bolo tie, you’d think you were talking to Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia Executive, and not Dazai Osamu, Detective. 

“A lot,” you finally tell him, feeling the way he stiffens behind you. “I don’t keep count. You?” 

You think he has some nerve asking when he’s probably slept around t-

“None.”

“Bullshit,” you snarl immediately. “How many? Don’t fucking lie to me, Dazai.”

“None,” he says again, gaze lifting from your back to meet yours, his eyes are dark—too dark, too still. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you assumed, because the way your chest swells with a confusing mixture of fear and arousal is far too familiar. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

His gaze drags back down, with his pants unbuttoned, he lifts his free hand to caress the swell of your ass, a contemplative expression on his face as he stares down at you, his other hand still pinning you down to your desk. If your heart wasn’t thudding in your ears from sheer anticipation, you’d be irate over the fact that you were letting Dazai Osamu fuck you over your own desk in your own office, but you can’t bring yourself to care now.

“They never made you feel like this.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you want to scoff at his arrogance, but you can’t because he’s right. “They don’t know your body like I do.”

This time you do scoff. “You don’t know shit, Dazai. It’s been four years.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker back up to you, the way his lips curve up into a smile is dangerous.

“No?” he questions. 

A challenge. You never back down from one, not from him. 

“No.”

His smile sharpens.

“I know that after you cum for the first time,” he murmurs, rolling his hips forward. You bite back a moan when you feel the tip of his cock slip between your folds. “The second time comes right after.”

True to his words, your jaw falls slack and your entire body seizes as Dazai thrusts into you, splitting you right open on his cock. The moan he lets out is pornographic, and you wish you could see the way his head falls back and his eyes roll into his skull, but your own vision is white and you’re choking over a sob as you feel the familiar stretch of his cock against your walls.

“There you are.” Dazai has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh and another groan as he stills with his hips flush to your ass, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cum just from the feeling of him pushing inside of you. The hand he has placed between your shoulder blades slides up to curl around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up so only your thighs are pressed against the edge of your desk, back flush to his chest as you gasp, reeling from the suddenness of your second orgasm. You can feel him smile as he nudges his nose against the side of your head, lips pressed to your ear. “The third time takes a bit after the second, but I’ll fuck you through it. Maybe a fourth too.”

“Dazai,” you gasp, eyes blown wide as your head falls back against his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe hold on, or wait, because you know you’ll embarrass yourself if he doesn’t give you a second to recover.

He hums in response, and the slow rolls of his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls, it has your head in the clouds, body trembling. Your lips part to speak but no words leave them, and right when you think you can finally force the words out, Dazai draws his hips back and snaps them back against yours hard. Your lips part in a silent moan, only the hand around your throat and the one pressed to your lower belly holds you up as Dazai fucks you at a brutal pace. 

His face drops to the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin, teeth scraping hard as he kisses recklessly up and down every available inch. He’s going to leave marks, you realize, and that’s dangerous now that you’re back in Yokohama because you don’t need any of the other executives to get suspicious, but even if you wanted to tell him not to, you don’t think you’d be able to. Whatever little coherency you had left in your thought process does not translate when you try to speak, the only things leaving your lips being shaky moans and gasps of Dazai’s name.

“Made for me,” Dazai groans. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make the air you breathe in shallow, your head feels light and you’re not sure if it’s because of his grip or if it’s the feeling of his cock bullying so deep into you that you can feel his tip pressing up against your cervix. “Waited so many years for this, feels even better than I remember, pussy’s made for me, isn’t it?”

Dazai babbles into your ear as he fucks you, tongue just as filthy and unbridled as the day he left. Shameless. He’s so shameless. Doesn’t even care that anyone could walk into your office and catch the two of you; doesn’t care that if anyone does, he’ll end up executed. He’s fucking you in a building full of people that want him dead and all he cares about is how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.

Your breath hitches as Dazai shifts you to bend over just a little more, still keeping your back flush to his chest but fucking you at a new angle—one that nearly sends you spiraling over the edge for a third time. 

“Gonna give me your third now?” he pants. His hand on your lower stomach slips down, lithe fingers dipping between your folds to search for your clit—your back arches against him when he finds it, a sob spilling from your lips, vision swimming with tears. Dazai laughs again, this one is strained, catching over a moan as your walls convulse around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

Unconsciously, his grip on your throat tightens, cutting off even more air. You can hardly breathe, you can hardly think—each thrust of his hips has your head spinning, ripping the little air you can inhale right out of your lungs. The tip of his cock rubs against that spongy spot inside of you every time he snaps his hips against yours, the quick circles he rubs on your clit are electrifying. 

Your cheeks are wet, breath ragged, vision spotty. One last thrust, one last circle, and you’re wrecked, sobbing out his name as your legs give out, only held up by the way he has your thighs pinned to your desk and his hand on your neck. You cum all over his cock so hard that you think you black out for a second, your mind fuzzy and pins and needles pricking all over your body.

Dazai doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your third orgasm, relishing in the way your body twitches and trembles, too sensitive for his touch. 

“Your fourth will come quick,” he gasps. His pace is erratic now, chasing his own release. Your ears are ringing, heartbeat thudding in your ears, the wet, sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of you resounding through your office. “I don’t think I’ll last for five. Shit, shit, I’m close.”

You have to force yourself to move. You want to see him when he finishes. Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to try to get his attention. It takes all of your will power to push the two words from your lips: “Flip me.”

He does. Without any sort of hesitation, his hand drops from your throat to your waist. His cock slips out of you for a split second and your cunt aches at the loss, but Dazai is immediately pushing himself back into you as he hoists you up by the thighs, sitting you down on your desk and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Even through your blurry vision, Dazai is a fucking sight. His dark hair is matted to his forehead, pink lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed. His eyes glazed over and half rolled back as he chases his high. God, he’s stunning. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him.

You’re not thinking as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, sliding around to the back of his head to pull his face down to yours, moving on pure instinct. You drag him down to press your lips against his and Dazai is gone. The moment your lips touch his, he’s moaning into your mouth, hips stuttering against you as he spills his cum deep inside of you, and he’s right, because the moment you feel his cum filling you up, warm and thick, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling around his cock, the stickiness smearing against your thighs and ruining your desk, you’re pushed over the edge for the fourth time.

This one is weaker than the rest, not a single noise escapes you but your jaw goes slack and Dazai whimpers into your mouth when he feels your walls tightening around him again. But he takes advantage of your pliancy, pushing you back gently so that your back is flush to your desk. He follows you down, keeping his chest pressed to yours as he maps out your mouth with his tongue. He rolls his hips against yours, slow and deep, fucking his cum deeper into you as the two of you slowly come down from your highs. He slants his lips against yours to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other sliding up and down one of your thighs. 

It’s too intimate. You tell yourself that you only let it happen because you’re reeling from overstimulation but you know it's a lie.

You don’t even know how long you stay in that position with him. It could only be a few seconds, a few minutes, it could’ve been an hour for all you know, laying on your desk with him pressed on top of you, kissing you so passionately that it makes your head spin as much as the orgasms did. 

Finally, you press your hand against his shoulder, signaling for him to get off of you. He does, albeit with a reluctant sigh. You stare up at the ceiling as Dazai shakily rebuttons his pants, making his way over to the closet where you still keep your spare clothes from when you have to stay over at the office to work. 

What did you do?

You’re hyper aware of how swollen your lips are, of the marks littering your neck, of the cum dribbling out of your cunt, staining your desk. 

If anyone finds out about this-

You don’t get to finish the thought, because Dazai comes back over to you. Neither of you speak as he takes a tissue to clean up his cum from your thighs and as it dribbles out of you, nor do you speak when he shifts you into a sitting position, helping you pull on a new pair of panties and a new pair of slacks.

He stands in front of you, dozens of indecipherable emotions rocketing across his face as his dark eyes search your expression for something. You don’t know what, and you don’t even want to look at him but you can’t draw your gaze away from him.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.

“I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek. 

You turn away from his touch, ignoring the hurt that flashes through his eyes. 

“Why don’t you believe me? You think four years has changed how I feel about you? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“It’s been four years,” you say, and you hate that your voice wavers a bit. You blame it on still being hazy after your orgasm but you know it’s a weak excuse. You hate that he still has this effect on you after all these years. You hate that you always give into him, and you hate that you know you’ll never get enough of him. You want to hate him, but you can’t. “Knowing how to fuck me isn’t the same as knowing me as a person. I barely know you anymore. You barely know me. And it’s not like you were open with how you felt four years ago. So, forgive me if it’s a bit hard to believe, Dazai.”

“You wear the same perfume. You still shoot with your non-dominant hand for some god forsaken reason. Your lips still twitch whenever you get annoyed even though you do your best to stop it. You-”

“Stop.”

“You still talk to me like you hate me even though your eyes are all soft and you’re leaning in toward me.” Dazai doesn’t stop, and to your horror, he’s right—you had begun to lean in to him instinctively as he spoke. You try to shift away from him, but he follows, fingers grazing your cheek, chest brushing yours. You don’t pull away this time. “I still wear the same cologne you bought me for Christmas because it reminds me of you—I spent two months trying to figure out where you bought it when it first ran out. I don’t carry a gun around as often, but when I do, I still try to do that stupid flipping trick you tried to teach me when we were seventeen—I still can’t do it, almost shot myself in the knee last time I tried.”

The laugh he lets out at the last sentence is hollow. He hesitates, as if he wants to continue but isn’t sure if he should. You can feel his blunt nails scraping gently against your skin, his palm warm against your cheek. You want to pull away but you’ve missed him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, and you find yourself sinking into his touch. You’ve always questioned why Mori sent you away for so long, angry because you figured he thought you were weak when it comes to Dazai and he didn’t want to risk anything. 

Only a few days back in Yokohama, and you’re already proving him right.

“I’m not the same person,” you tell him, something desperate edges at your tone. Desperate to convince him, or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I still love you,” he rasps, voice quiet as if he’s scared to admit it even to himself, and your heart is suddenly lodged in your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes, the words he refused to tell you back when you were teens ringing through your head over and over again. “I’ve always loved you. Thought about you every day. I missed you so much.”

“I should hate you,” you say, swallowing thickly, unshed tears blurring your vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye. When Mori said you defected in the middle of a mission, I laughed in his face. Not because I didn’t think you’d never betray the Port Mafia, but because I didn’t think you’d ever leave me without saying anything.”

“If I said goodbye to you, I never would have left,” Dazai tells you quietly, the admission echoing in your years. “And I had to leave. I had to.”

“I should hate you,” you repeat, voice a bit weaker now, and you feel pathetic for falling apart like this in front of him. But it’s Dazai, he’s always had this effect over you. You suppose some things haven’t changed, because that certainly hasn’t. 

“I know,” he murmurs. 

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you push yourself off your desk and straighten out your clothes, trying to get your head back on straight. You should’ve known better than to think you’d be able to come back to Yokohama and pretend that Dazai Osamu didn’t exist, for better or for worse, the two of you would always find your way back to each other. Mori was right to send you away, although you suppose the man is rarely wrong anyway.

Dazai doesn’t say anything, watching you with an unreadable expression as you search through the ruined piles of paper on your desk for the report that Akutagawa had handed you. Your eye twitches when you realize that it’s stained, realizing that you’re going to have to rewrite the whole thing because you can’t submit a cum-stained report to Mori.

Dazai snorts behind you, as if realizing your predicament. The look you give him is lethal, he silences himself quickly. 

“Don’t get yourself killed on the way out,” you tell him, grabbing your black jacket off your chair and swinging it over your shoulders as you look back at him. “If you make it out of here alive, I’ll see you at my apartment later. Then we can talk.”

His face twists. “What? Wait, don’t leave me here,” he panics, nearly tripping over his feet and your desk chair to follow after you. “Help me sneak out.”

“You got in here yourself,” you say dismissively. “Get out yourself.”

The noise he lets out is pathetic. “You do hate me,” he accuses. 

“No, I could never,” you admit quietly. His expression softens a bit, but you give him a sharp smile. “But I’m definitely not going to make things easy for you. Akutagawa is still out here prowling around. So is Chuuya, actually. Said he’d be at the office all night today. Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

[bigification]

Handlebars

Day 1:

My first day of college was a lot more stressful than I thought it would be. I finally made it to residence last night, which only gave me one night to get settled before classes started. I was nervous to meet my roommate because of all of the horror stories I had heard about them in the past, but it ended up being so much worse than I expected. In my mind, the worst outcome was some lazy douche who never cleaned up after himself. So you can imagine my shock when I knock on the door and a full grown 30 something year old man answers the door.

"Hey, buddy. The names Mike, come on in."

He looked and sounded like a jock in a college movie, but when the actor is actually 30. His voice was deep and buttery, it almost gave me butterflies. I just smiled awkwardly and walked past him through the door.

"I'm Oscar by the way." I introduced myself.

"Cool, I'll just call you Handlebars." He said, without a care in the world.

He sat down on his bed, and that was the extent of our interactions for the day.

Day 7:

It's been a week and all my other worries about roommates came true. Not only is he 15 years older than me, he's a slob. He gets home from the gym drenched in sweat and throws his gym clothes wherever without cleaning them. He doesn't do his dishes, or any chore for that matter. In fact it seems like he intentionally keeps the place dirty after I try to clean it. And whatever musky cologne he wears attacks my nose every time I open the door, it feels like the smell seeps into everything, including my clothes.

The few times that he actually wants a chore to be done, he just asks me to do it, or rather he just tells me to do it. Normally I would be happy to tell him to go fuck himself, but I always find myself doing whatever he asks. I hate it.

"Yo Handlebars, be a doll and clean the dishes for me."

"Yo Handlebars, I ran out of clean gym clothes, mind running em down to the laundry for me."

It's like he's casting a spell whenever he talks.

Day 15:

I've started to settle into routine. The things that used to bother me about Mike seem a bit more trivial now. We've even started to become pretty close. I get enthralled by his conversations about business. He goes on and on about his father's enterprises, and how they'll be his soon.

I even started going to the gym with him lately. He lent me some of his gym clothes, even if they're way too big. It just made me appreciate him more. I never really clocked how jacked he was, sometimes he goes to the gym shirtless and it shows off his massive pecs and thick biceps.

Since joining him, I've noticed my body has improved quite significantly. I used to be skinny and lanky, but there is definition starting to show throughout my body.

Day 30:

Just a month into school and I was already on my way to failing out. I just don't care about it anymore, but Mike gave me a solution. He said I could just switch programs and do business with him, and his dad would even pay for it. How could I pass that up.

Now that I've switched, it's like all stress in my life has disappeared. Business is so easy, and now I have more time with Mike. We usually have a routine of going to the gym after our last class of the day.

"Yo Handlebars, you're lookin strong man. I'd kill to grow as fast as you."

He shouted at me from across the gym, when he caught me staring at myself in the mirror. Butterflies flew through my stomach when he said that. And he wasn't wrong, I've been noticing a lot of changes in my body. My face has matured, my eyebrows are thicker, my nose is bigger, and my jawline is more square. I even have to shave now, when I never had to before college. A five o'clock shadow engulfs my face by the end of the day, especially above my lip. The rest of my body has gotten hairier too, especially around my pecs, arms, and legs. And that's not even mentioning my progress at the gym. I actually look like I belong there, my biceps have a nice roundness to them and my chest actually sticks out from my body. Those gym clothes that Mike gave me look smaller and smaller every day.

Life in the dorms has also been a dream. I've been wearing that cologne that Mike loves, and it's like I unlocked a whole new level of confidence. People seem to love listening to me talk, and people seem to respect me more.

Day 60:

This past month has been the best month of my life. Now that I'm in my mid twenties, I can drink whenever I want. Mike and I go out raves and frat parties basically every night, my body is basically used to every drug at this point. And with Mike's dad paying for college, I literally don't need to show up to lectures and I get straight A's.

"Fuck, bro. I think you're bigger than me Handlebars."

Mike said with a shocked face when we were snapping pics at the gym. We flexed beside each other, and it was obvious. My biceps dwarfed his, and his gym clothes had become really tight on me lately. The shirt was skin tight against my upper body, showing off my juicy pecs and my growing six pack. And the shorts looked like they were about to burst under the pressure of my ass cheeks and thighs, to the point that the outline of my dick was constantly visible.

"Here bro, take this."

Mike handed me a package. It was filled with gym clothes and jocks.

"Just for you Handlebars."

I yanked him in for a bro hug, I could feel myself blushing.

"You got this all for me bro?"

"Fuck yeah, man. You've been grinding it out in the gym, don't think I haven't noticed my clothes straining against those muscles. And you need something to contain that snake in your pants before we get campus security called on us."

Mike chuckled, his laugh was infectious.

Day 100:

I started in the mirror. Sometimes I barely recognize myself. The confident and cocky mask goes away when I'm alone, just leaving the caring gym bro that's on the true inside.

Damn, I think to myself, Mike is making me too sappy. I give myself a cocky smile after shaving my face, leaving me with a thick moustache. I flex, admiring my guns and bouncing my pecs. Man I look good for a man pushing his thirties.

"Fuck, handlebars. Since when were you so hairy?" Mike asked me when I left the bathroom.

"What? Are you jealous I'm manlier than you bro?" I taunted him by opening my button up wider, revealing the thick pelt of hair that covered my body.

"Nah, it's got me feelin something tho." He smirked at me.

"Hah, I fuckin knew it. You want a piece of this." I bounced my pecs.

"Don't make it gay bro, it's not like that. Just a dude admiring another dude." He blushed.

The tension between us had been building for weeks. He would stand too close when spotting me at the gym, and I'd catch him staring at me in the mirror. Not like I haven't been doin it too. We also wear less clothes around the dorm. I still got that jock strap Mike gave me a while back, I'd be lying to myself if I said it fit but I don't care, and it seems like Mike doesn't mind either. And sometimes I wear an open button up just cuz it makes my pecs pop.

Day 120:

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this." Mike whispered in my ear. His breath was heavy as he threw me against the wall. His dick was bouncing with excitement against my ass.

For context, a few hours ago we were at the gym like normal. At this point, we didn't even go to class, it was just gym and parties now. The tension had been growing at the gym forever, sometimes we'd release by foolin around in the showers, but it never went further a quick handjob when no one was lookin. It was different this time, he couldn't keep his hands off me. Broad daylight in a busy gym, his hands would be far down my shorts, teasing.

At first I was dismissive. We already got caught multiple times by campus security, so close to getting kicked out of school. If it wasn't for Mike's dad being a rich alumni, I think both of us would be long gone by now. But he knew how to push my buttons, he always has. I gave in, but had the decency to drag him by the collar to the showers. At least there we could be naked.

Ok, back to the point. I grunted as his thick arms held me in place. Mike had been working extra hard to catch up to me, and it was showin. It turned me on, feelin his muscled forearms against my shoulders. But I wasn't gonna let him win that easily. What Mike seemed to forget was the near decade I spent in the Navy before comin to college.

I whipped around, using the hot water against our skin to slip out from his pin. I pushed his shoulder, sending him tripping over my foot, which I had conveniently placed behind his. I caught him like a damsel in distress, so there was no doubt in his mind who was on top.

Within seconds, it's like my training kicked in and I had him pinned down on his stomach. The bristles of my thick mustache rubbed against the back of his ear as I whispered, "You really thought you could top me?" I asked with a chuckle.

He moaned like a twink when I stuck my cock up his ass. It took a moment for his ass to adjust to takin a beatin rather than dishin one out, but he'll get used to it. The wet fur on my forearm slid across his back as I rode him like a bull. I could almost feel his organs rearrangin to fit my 10 inch rod.

I groaned as I felt months of sexual tension release in seconds, shooting my seed all through Mike's body. He was mine. And by the looks of it, he enjoyed the ride too. A trail of his cum ran from under his pinned body, to the drain in the middle of the showers.

"You're mine."

I whispered in his ear with a shit eatin grin.

"Now clean this mess up before you dare come back to my dorm."

I pushed off his back to get to my feet. I continued rubbing my cock as I walked away, making ropes of cum cover the showers. I walked right out of the showers and into the locker room, making sure to wink at campus security on the way out. Someone always calls them, and we always get away with it Scott free, so I think they gave up. It just feels good to make people know they're beneath you, and to do it while rubbin one out.

I cleaned up and walked alone to my dorm, sat on my couch, and waited for Mike to come back. After a few minutes, he walked in without a word. He walked over to me and laid in my lap as I turned on football. I smelled his hair, making sure he actually cleaned up like I ordered.

"Good boy." I reassured him while massaging his pecs.

Day 150:

I finally moved our stuff out of my shitty dorm. Mikey's father just decided to pay for our diplomas outright, instead of trying to turn all of our F's into A's.

We moved to L.A. and I fuckin love it here. I just walk around in nothin but a jock, and people love me for it. And there are so many entrepreneurs like me, so much money to be made.

Everyone just calls me handlebars, I can't remember the last time anyone called me my name. Now that I think about it, I don't even remember what it was, but who the fuck cares. I'm handlebars, the life of the party and the best fuck in this city.

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut (oral, f receiving), overload of cheesiness, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 11.8k+

→ a/n: this might be the cheesiest, fluffiest thing i've ever written, and i can't even be bothered to care. it might be unrealistic. it might be too much. i do not care. this has been a long time coming and i think we all deserve all the cheese after this story.

i don't even know what to say besides thank you. thank you to everyone who followed along from the beginning, to those of you joined the journey along the way, to those of you who are reading as we finish it up. thank you for all the support and love you guys have shown this fic. i will always, always, appreciate it more than i know how to say. i love these idiots, and i love you all.

if you would like to see this story continued through small blurbs, my ask box is officially open to requests from this universe. i will also probably be posting some "beyond the hours" content over the next few weeks.

thank you. i love you.

without further ado...

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

EPILOGUE: A BET

TWO MONTHS LATER

“Why are there so many fuckin’ options?” 

Eddie stares at the line up of smartphones before him, all different models and different physical sizes, different colors and different memory amounts. 

“There’s not that many,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around him from behind as you rest your chin on his shoulder. It’s a bit of a stretch, making you lean up onto your tippy toes, “Besides, isn’t having options a good thing?” 

He scoffs as he brings a hand up subconsciously to where your arms overlap on his torso, grip gentle as he runs a thumb over your skin and gives a squeeze, “Sure, options are great. But there’s at least twenty different iPhones on display here, sweetheart.” 

The last few months had been interesting, to say the least. A new and exciting journey initially, but also a fairly stressful ordeal given all the hoops you two had been jumping through. You’re both busy people, having to suddenly figure out how to carve out a specific space for each other amongst bustling lives. It wasn’t the same as making time for friends or a weekly night out; it was figuring out times for dates, times for lazy afternoons, times for just you and just Eddie.

And, occasionally, time to take Eddie shopping for a new phone. Finally.

“Well, better pick one fast,” your fingers dig into his side playful, and he blows out an annoyed breath as he side-eyes you. You only retaliate in a fast peck to his cheek before whispering in his ear, “We’re gonna be late if you keep taking all day.” 

It was Argyle’s birthday party tonight. His actual birthday wasn’t for another week, but he’d be venturing back home to California for that. And so the group elected to throw him a preemptive party at one of the group’s favorite bars. 

Which — fine. Awesome. You were excited, you really were: you loved Argyle, you loved your friends, you even found yourself warming back up to parties.

But your friends didn’t know. 

Two whole months, and neither you nor Eddie had told a single soul of what had become between you two. Not even Steve. Not even Nancy. 

At first the excuse was to give this time to grow, to find your footing before you brought your lovable yet rambunctious group of friends into the equation. But then you two had found your footing, and you’d worried what they would say. Eddie had nearly made himself sick with anxiety over Nancy finding out he’d kept this relationship from her. They’d support you two — that wasn’t a worry. They’d proven that since the first time the entire group had hung out after the bet.

“So,” Robin started, narrowing her eyes at you and Eddie sitting on opposite ends of her and Steve’s couch. Neither of you had said a word to each other yet (Plenty had already been said that morning as you’d snuck him out of your dorm), “You two really aren’t together?” 

“Why is everyone so adamant that the bet has to end with us getting together?” you jeered.

Eddie didn’t help the cause when he was quick to take your side, “Exactly! The bet’s over. We lasted twenty four hours. We’re friends now — isn’t that what you guys wanted?” 

“I actually wanted to help you dudes plan a winter wedding,” Argyle chimed from the kitchen where he was retrieving a coke, “So I’m gonna side with Birdie on this one.” 

“Of course you are,” you muttered beneath your breath. 

Everything in you ached to be sitting next to Eddie rather than so far. You ached for his arm around you, his lips pressed to your temple. Just to share body heat, even — innocent thighs brushing with layers of denim between would have been enough.  

“It’ll happen eventually,” Nancy mused from her seat on the kitchen counter, Jonathan beside her and matching her confident energy with a sly grin, “Just give them time.” 

What they hadn’t realized is that it already did happen. The moment Eddie showed up to your dorm and the two of you said to Hell with space, it was inevitable. 

Now, it was just the challenge of letting your friends in on the secret.

“What about the red one?” Eddie asks you as you finally unravel from him.

“Of course you’re choosing the red one.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scowls, no malice behind it as you step up to occupy the space next to him, brushing shoulders for only a moment before his hand is grabbing yours, intertwining fingers like second nature. 

You recall that moment on his balcony, where he had once been so nervous and hesitant to hold your hand. 

“Nothing,” you shake your head, smiling to yourself as you look at the specific model he was talking about, “You’re just getting a little bit predictable, Munson.” 

He opens his mouth to argue, to nip back at what you always offer him, when one of the salesmen approach you two.

“Hi folks! Can I help you with anything today?”

Eddie squeezes your hand, no doubt in an effort to withhold his laughter at the man’s overly chirpy tone. You squeeze back, if for nothing more than to let him know you felt him.

Despite Eddie’s previous claim to a decision, he still chooses to entertain the man. Asking questions about different models, inquiring for recommendations as if they’d change his mind. They go back and forth, both polite enough, but the conversation easily bores you. In five seconds flat, your mind has officially wandered off.

You two hadn’t really discussed the specific details of the night to come. Whether you’d ride with Eddie there, how you’d navigate Eddie’s natural born clinginess once he got a few drinks in him, if tonight might be the night to finally tell your friends. 

The last one felt a bit obvious. It was Argyle’s night — you didn’t want to snatch the attention from him for even a second. 

But there were layers to your anxiety. Because it was more than just how to navigate how you two would display yourselves to your friends on nights out. 

It had been two months, and you still hadn’t said those three little words back to Eddie.

He didn’t pressure you. He never once brought it back up, never once pressured you. But just because he wasn’t constantly reminding you vocally that he loved you didn’t mean you didn’t feel it. You’d felt it, impossible to miss, when all those lazy morning fantasies became reality. You felt it during movie marathons and you felt it every time he’d worship your body. It was there — in the late nights, in the early mornings, in the dull afternoons. A wild thing unleashed in your gardens, all those vines you’d worked so hard to see flourish threatened to be torn up by impatient claws at the feeling growing rapidly in your chest every time you looked at him.

And slowly, surely, you knew that there was only so much longer that like could suffice in describing your feelings for Eddie. 

You were falling, whether he was aware or not. You just needed to figure out the right moment for those three little words to unstick, to go from hot honey on your tongue to easy breaths between you two. He’s given you time, he’d filled the months you’d awarded him with making up for every previously bitter exchange, and yet you still couldn’t give him this. And you’re starting to believe maybe that’s why you couldn’t imagine telling your friends yet. 

You sort of hated yourself for it.

You’re pulled back to reality once the salesman departs, no doubt into the back to grab Eddie’s choice of phone. You don’t even have to ask; you know he got the red one.

“Hey,” Eddie fully turns to you, bringing your knuckles to his lips in chaste kisses. Your stomach still kicks with flutters, your heart still warms at the gesture. Eddie’s affection has yet to lose novelty, “Where’d you go?”

“What do you mean?” you twist your face, “I was here the entire tim-“

“Not where’d you physically go,” he clarifies, letting your conjoined hands drop back to the sliver of space between your bodies, “Mentally. Where’d your mind just go?”

 You hadn’t thought he’d notice your drifting.

“Nowhere,” you shrug off.

“Nowhere? So you’re really just that interested in the newest iPhone model?” 

He pointedly looks up at the widescreen display you don’t doubt you’d been blankly staring at the entirety of his conversation with the man who had yet to return.

“Oh, absolutely. You know me so well.” 

All bark, no bite. These days, all the previous venom that had infected exchanges with Eddie prior to the bet had finally been sucked clean from the wound, long gone to make room for all the genuine affection to seep into its place. You still argued — or perhaps bantered was a better word for it — but you didn’t fight. You both still grated on one another’s nerves and managed to slither beneath the other’s skin, but not in an unwelcome way. 

It was a nice change.

It made you hate yourself even more for not saying those three little words. 

Eddie seemingly reads your mind, “Are you nervous for tonight?”

“I-“ you consider lying to him and saying it hadn’t even crossed your mind, but the look he gives you warns against it, “We just haven’t… discussed it.” 

“What’s there to discuss?” 

You hold up your interlocked hands for emphasis, raising your eyebrows at Eddie.

His mouth falls open softly, eyes widening, “Oh. Are you- Are you wanting to tell them tonight?” 

No, your gut screams, absolutely not tonight.

“Is Argyle’s birthday party really the best time to explode their minds?” 

You try to keep your tone teasing as you sense Eddie’s own nerves creeping up. Sometimes it was fun, standing in a room with everyone and pretending to be more akin to strangers than lovers. But sometimes, it was just plain painful. Sometimes, the entire group would be laughing at something, and you craved nothing more than to be pressed into Eddie’s side and feel the vibrations of his shared joy rather than just having to listen to it from across the room. 

It’s not that you wanted to tell your friends and cause a scene — you just didn’t want to have to hide anymore. And maybe you wouldn’t have to, if you’d just tell him how you felt.

“Probably not,” Eddie murmurs, “I mean, it’s his night. We can always tell them the next time we all get together.”

The issue is that’s what the two of you always say. You always brush it off for the next time. 

You can only sigh in defeat as you see the salesman finally bounding back out from the back room, a small box holding Eddie’s purchase in his grip, “Yeah. Next time.” 

You can’t even be mad at next time. It’s the same thing you tell yourself every time you felt those words on the tip of your tongue, so close yet so far from revealing the most terrifying truth you’d discovered yet to Eddie.

You let go of his hand long enough for him to check out, hardly overhearing when he questions how they can transfer all the data from his current flip phone. When he seems particularly worried about pictures transferring, you don’t think anything of it.

—

STEVE-O: do i need to pick you up tonight? 

You don’t see the text. You’re a bit busy with something when it comes through.

Something is currently still between your legs, curls threaded between your fingers as your back arches off his mattress and his name starts to come out as a desperate whimper rather than a chant. 

STEVE-O: ???

The initial buzz of your phone on his nightstand doesn’t phase either of you. Eddie’s tongue still works you eagerly, circling your clit as you tug particularly harshly at his roots. Each flick sends white hot pleasure through your bones, nearly making you see stars.

“Fuck,” you gasp out when he brings his fingers into the mix. You can feel his smile against you as he curls his fingers inside of you, mimicking a come hither motion and relishing in your little pants as your thighs tighten around his shoulders, “Oh, fuck. Right there, Eddie. I- Eddie.” 

The way you’re moaning his name only encourages him as he slips in a second finger, stretching you further. You feel cool metal bumping your entrance, sending shocks up your spine as his lips suction against you and he sucks hard.

He hadn’t even taken the time to remove his rings when the two of you had gotten home. He had been too eager, dragging you to his bedroom with his lips attached to your neck from the moment he’d shut the front door behind the two of you until he’d thrown you down on his bed.

“That’s right, baby,” his voice vibrates against your clit, “Say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this goo-“

STEVE-O: helllooooo????

“Okay, who the fuck keeps texting you?” Eddie finally pulls back when he realizes you’re slipping out of that bubble he’d created, your head having turned towards the nightstand in curiosity, “Let me guess, it’s your other boyfriend?” 

Your head is still spinning and your chest continues to heave from that lingering pleasure he’d been offering so generously to you. He sounds annoyed, but you can guarantee you’re even more irked. 

“I don’t have another boyfriend,” you blandly reply, not taking his bait.

It only makes him wrap his hands around your thighs on his shoulder, giving a playful squeeze as you reach out for your phone. 

“You sure?” 

You squint at the notifications, but don’t properly read them, only rolling your eyes at both the fact that Steve’s the one interrupting this precious moment and at Eddie’s valiant teasing.

You slam the phone back down, eyes trailing down to his, “I am, but I can certainly find another boyfriend if you don’t get your mouth back on me in the next three seconds-“ 

He doesn’t need a second warning. In an instant, the warmth of his tongue is back on you, lapping at all the spots he’s come to memorize as of recently. That pleasure comes back into reach, edging your vision with feathery black as your eyes flutter shut and the coil in your stomach tightens.

You throw your head back into one of his pillows, one that has started to smell like your shampoo now rather than his, and let a drawn out whine escape your lips.

“You were saying?” he teases, grinning wickedly. He takes that brief moment to come up for air, turning and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh beside his cheek. Not hard enough to draw blood, and probably not hard enough to leave indents. But it is enough to have you preening once more as your heels dig into his bare back and you try to lift your hips, desperate for his mouth again.

He was edging you. Without even meaning to, he was repeatedly bringing you to the edge only to leave you teetering. 

With your focus back on him, you can admire how pretty he looks. Mouth slick with you, pupils blown out, hair an absolute mess. You like him best this way, you think, when he looks so absolutely devoted to you. When he’s looking at you with a hunger you almost can’t place. It makes you want to scream from the rooftops about how you’ve fallen for him. How you feel so much more than like for your boy. 

STEVE-O: seriously. if you don’t respond, you can just walk. you have five minutes.

At the buzz of the phone, your hands leave Eddie’s hair to form fists, pounding them into the mattress at your side in a brief tantrum. He ceases all actions, pulling his lips away from you again, and it only makes you pout more. 

“Baby,” he coos, fingers trailing up the sides of your thighs before he reaches out to hold your fists down, “Maybe you should answer him. Tell him to fuck off-“

Eddie’s interrupted as your phone fully bursts to life with your ringtone.

You were going to kill Steve Harrington. 

“On second thought, let me answer it,” Eddie groans as you reach out and grab it once more, “Give the fucker a piece of my mind.”

“Shut up,” you hiss as you realize it’s Robin calling. You turn the screen so he can see, and his eyebrows lift in surprise.

He makes no move to remove himself from between your legs, though. He stays face to face with your aching core.

“Hello?” you snap after swiping to answer.

“Finally! My God, Steve’s been texting you-“

“I didn’t see the texts.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“Nope.” 

You’ve never been so short with your friends. 

But that pleasure is slipping from you, the flames of your impending orgasm dying down to nothing more than embers. It’s enough to piss anyone off. 

“Are you sure?” Robin asks, sounding genuinely concerned, “It’s kind of a far walk-“

“I’m running late,” you sigh, realizing that you were going to have to come up with a lie to get off the hook. Another thing you hated about the hiding — it led to your friendships being littered with dishonesty. Always a new excuse as to why you weren’t available, always feigning reasons as to why you didn’t reply to texts as timely as you used to. “With getting ready. I could- I don’t know, do you think Eddie might pick me up? Isn’t my dorm along the way to the bar from his place?” 

At the mention of his name, he perks up. His cheek settles against the exact spot he had bit just moments before, nearly nuzzling into you as your free hand comes down to gently push back his bangs. On instinct, you find yourself soothingly pressing your fingertips in slow circles against his scalp. You’re nearly melting beneath his soft gaze, those big and wide eyes locked on you with bated breath.

“You want Eddie to pick you up?” you suddenly hear Steve exclaim in the background.

Your face scrunches up, a wrinkle forming across the bridge of your nose and between your brows. It’s so damn cute to Eddie that he can’t help but press a quick kiss to the skin he continues to lay into, beginning to smile as your absent-minded head massage continues. 

So much more than like.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was on speaker.” 

“Why do you want Munson to pick you up?” Steve ignores your sarcasm, voice sounding closer to the phone now, “He drives a motorcycle, you know. That’s dangerous.” 

Eddie must be able to catch some of Steve’s shrill exclamation, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly. You feel his curious hum against your skin and you don’t hesitate putting your own pesky friends on speaker. 

“Motorcycles are not that dangerous,” you retort, and it makes Eddie have to hide a slight scoff into your thigh in an effort to stay silent. It was ironic that they cared about how safe it would be for you to ride with Eddie on his bike now, after that allegedly dangerous vehicle had been your main source of transportation for nearly two months now, “He has a helmet, right?” 

“Isn’t your dorm the opposite direction of the bar from his place?” Robin questions, “I mean, I’m all for you asking lover boy if he’ll give you a ride but-”

Steve interrupts her flatly, “It’s making him go out of his way. Besides, he might have already left for the bar by now.” 

You don’t know what to silently laugh at first. The assumption they were making that couldn’t be further from the truth, or Robin’s new nickname for Eddie. 

Lover boy is fitting for him in this current position. He’s still latching onto your leg, cuddling you in every way he could from where he laid, staring at you and hanging onto your every last word. The poster boy for pathetically in love, he gives your leg another kiss, starting a fiery trail with his lips until he reaches your knee. It pangs in your chest, wondering if he can see your feelings also painted so obviously across your face. 

“Steve,” you murmur, breath catching in your throat as Eddie’s lips linger in the ditch of your knee. It takes a second to remember you’re on the phone, “No offense, but Eddie hasn’t been on time to a single get together the entire time I’ve known him.” 

Eddie reacts in real time to your insult, forcing an over-exaggerated offended look before he bites you again. This time, his teeth do leave an imprint from his nip, and it makes you slap a hand over your mouth to avoid yelping. 

Don’t bite me, you mouth at him. 

Don’t be mean, he answers right back, silent as ever. 

“Technically we’re all already late,” Steve points out. It makes you sit up quickly, startling Eddie in the process. You squint at the clock across the room and- fuck. Steve was right, “Nancy just texted me that she and Jon are there, Argyle’s on his way. She said she tried texting Eddie but didn’t get any response,” there’s a long pause as you motion wildly for Eddie to get up with you, the boy watching as you fling yourself off his mattress and carry the phone with you to his dresser, “Have… you heard from him recently?” 

“Why are you saying it like that?” you jab, throwing open one of the drawers Eddie had cleared out for you to keep some clothes here in his apartment. At this point, a good chunk of the tuition you paid was going to waste considering the fact you rarely spent the night at your dorm. You were already half moved into Eddie’s space. 

You try not to think too hard about it, because just last week, you’d had a panic attack at the revelation. 

You were afraid of smothering him, even if he was the one always insisting you could leave more of your things here. He was always the one conning you into spending another night, promising soft murmurs of giving you a ride to class the next morning if you did. You rarely ever had much of the choice in the matter; once he’d wrap his arms around your waist, curl his body flush against yours, it was always game over.

Practically living together, and you still hadn’t said those words back to him. 

“I’m not saying it like anything!” Steve defends himself, “I’m just asking an innocent question!” Eddie’s snort this time is audible, and you freeze as Steve clearly mistakes it for your laughter, “Shut up. It’s a reasonable question. You guys are friends now, remember?” 

Friends. Of course, because all your friends jumped at the chance to bury their mouths against your cunt and make you cum repeatedly until you had tears streaming down your cheeks. Because you let all your friends sleep in the same bed as you, and wake you up by burying deep within you as they bite your shoulder with a moan. You and Eddie were friends. 

“Trust me,” you glance over your shoulder in your haste, looking at Eddie as he stretches out on his side and props himself up on his elbow, “I remember.” 

He gives you a knowing smile, squinting his eyes at you in entertainment. 

“Babe, it really would just be easier for you to ride with us,” Robin’s voice sounds again as you tug a shirt out of the drawer, something casual and comfortable that you could style for the night, “Unless you’re just hellbent on having alone time with Eddie for some reason-”

“I’m not hellbent on being alone with him, Robs.” 

Another lie. I definitely am. But not in the context you think. 

“You just sound like you are.”

“Well, I’m not,” you yank a pair of black jeans free from the drawer and slam it shut, standing and turning to Eddie. 

He hardly has time to react before you’re tossing your phone down on the mattress in front of him, the small device bouncing and hitting his chest. He winces and throws himself back dramatically, letting out a small oof that you pray neither Robin or Steve pick up on. 

As you dress, throwing on the random t-shirt and shimmying on your jeans, Robins laughs, “Denial isn’t a good look on you.” 

Eddie watches you, never moving to get ready himself. All he does is stare as you button up the pants. 

When you give him an expectant look, he merely mouths, bra? 

You shake your head. You don’t know where Eddie had flung your undergarment, and you’re not in the mood to frantically search for it. You’ve gone without a bra before – you can survive one night out without one. 

Eddie’s entire face and chest immediately flushes pink. Cute.  

“Now you guys are just being assholes,” you scowl despite the fact that only Eddie can see it, waving your hands to motion for him to get up and also get dressed, “I’m texting Eddie. If he has already left, I’ll just walk. Fuck you guys.” 

“Tell lover boy I said hi,” Robin teases. 

“Even if he’s already parked at the fucking bar at this point, we both know he’d jump right back on his bike and come pick you up,” Steve’s voice grumbles over the line. 

It almost makes you smile.  “Someone sounds jealous.” 

“Not jealous, just annoyed,” Steve corrects as Eddie finally stands from the bed, “When are you two going to get your shit together?”

“What do you mean?” you play dumb.

You’ve had this conversation with your friends multiple times. They were truly going to have your head once they realized what you’d been keeping from them for months now. 

“Don’t you have a 4.0 GPA?” Robin inserts herself back into the conversation, “You can’t possibly be this stupid.” 

Eddie pauses in his fumbling with pulling his jeans from the pile he’d left his clothes in at the end of the beg, face scrunching in silent laughter. You almost walk over and smack his bare back angled towards you. 

“First of all, no. I don’t have a 4.0 GPA. Thanks for the reminder,” you grab your phone back off of the bed and decide to leave Eddie behind in the room, heading into the bathroom to finish getting ready. You hate to admit it, but if you have to keep watching him giggle so cutely to himself, you’ll also probably break. And you aren’t in the mood for any further interrogation from Robin and Steve, “Second of all, I’m hanging up now. I’m going to call Eddie. At least he won’t be such a dick to me.” 

“Oh, you must see the irony there-” 

You cut Steve off, “Bye! See you in… like, ten minutes.” 

Once you’ve hung up, you put your phone down on the bathroom counter and look up into the mirror. Your hair is a mess, wild and tangled from all the writhing you had been doing before being so rudely interrupted. You give it your best effort, trying to tame it a little bit to look more presentable, but it’s a lost cause at this point. Fuck it. 

Eddie appears in the doorway behind you, fully dressed and his hair pulled back into a bun, leaning into the door frame with his arms crossed and an impish grin on display, “Oh, you’re going to call me now, sweetheart?” 

You glare at him in a jocosely manner through the reflection, “Don’t look so proud of yourself.” 

He pushes off the frame and comes up behind you, still locking his eyes only through the reflection as he leans his chin over your shoulder, “And what if I don’t want to give you a ride? You have been awfully mean – insulting my punctuality, throwing your phone at me, teasing me by going without a bra. The list goes on and on.” 

Something deep within you stirs, those embers that still ache to burst into a forest fire. You hate that you could easily spend the entire night here with him, letting him take you every which way between his sheets. And even without sinful actions involved, you would be plenty content with just his presence tonight. As a matter of fact, you might be more content with that outcome rather than heading out to see your friends.

Sorry Argyle, you think guiltily. 

“I’m teasing you?” you question just as his hands land on your hips, moving so that he was pressed firmly against the curve of your ass. Making sure you could feel how hard he was against the seam of his jeans’ zipper, “You didn’t even make me cum.” 

“Seems like we’ll both be spending the night frustrated, then,” he smiles, almost gleefully, almost devilishly, “Besides, that was technically Harrington’s fault, not mine. We both know I usually have no problems making you cum on my tongue – without interruptions, of course.”

He rolls his hips ever so slightly into you, and your mouth falls open, eyes going glossy as you continue to stare him down through the mirror.  The stirring in your abdomen is persistent now as your heart hammers against your ribs, mind melting and completely forgetting the obligation at hand. 

And Eddie knows this. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you, and it’s deliberate. 

Suddenly, his body completely pulls away from yours, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Don’t want to keep them waiting any longer, do we, sweetheart?” 

Damn him. Damn him, and damn his dimples, and damn how good his legs look in those jeans as he’s walking away from me right now.

You linger in the apartment, alone, for a few extra minutes to compose yourself. Trying to quelch the heat between your hips that had slowly spread across your entire body, threatening to consume you. You even go as far as to splash cool water across your cheeks, giving yourself a few smacks for good measure as you try to prepare yourself to go into public and put on the usual act. And beneath it all, you also hush the animal in your chest, the one that claws at you to tell him. The one that wails everytime you simply tell him you like him, the one that roars when you let another moment slip you by. It has to quiet, just as your flames need to settle, all for the sake of the act.

You deserve a goddamn Oscar at this point. 

After deciding that touching up your makeup would take up far too many precious seconds, you’re darting out of Eddie’s apartment, locking up behind yourself before you head down to where he’s waiting. He’s already straddling his parked bike, the engine roaring to life like the animal inside you as you exit the main doors of the building and his hands extend his only helmet. You don’t fight him on who’s going to wear it – that’s a battle, you’ve learned, you will always lose. 

We really need to just buy a second helmet. 

The thought makes you smile as you hold the clunky thing. Buying a second helmet. Something Eddie had never done before, because he had never had a regular passenger before. He had never had someone glued to his side as you had become, not even Nancy. It sounds terribly domestic; perusing aisles with him, debating which helmet fits your style best. He’d probably make a joke about your head being big. He’d probably tease you for looking at the ridiculously expensive ones and tell you to opt for a cheaper one. You’d probably end up with a pricier one in the cart regardless, and Eddie would probably refuse to let you pay for it. 

Domesticity. The image of it doesn’t ache like it had that night all those months ago. This isn’t something you yearn for hopelessly, smoke and mirrors that dissipate when you dare to reach out for it. It’s something finally in your grasp. Something tangible and something bound to happen, all you’d have to do is say the word and Eddie would comply eagerly. 

Anything to keep my girl safe, as he would tell you any time you pointed out how dangerous it was for him to go without a helmet. He’d gotten creative in saying his own version of those three little words. 

“M’lady,” he hums, nodding for you to put the helmet on before sweeping a hand over the empty space in the seat behind him, “Your chariot awaits.” 

You don’t have a snarky quip to throw back at him, only grinning at the ground as you flip the helmet around a few times to prepare to put it on. All those embers aren’t just desire for him – there’s a warmth there that always exists. A candle on the windowsill of the home you had finally found. 

You raise the clunky thing and tilt your head when Eddie suddenly says, “Oh, and babe?” 

Immediately, you lower it, eyes wide in curiosity, “What?” 

“That’s my shirt.” 

“What?” 

He motions to the t-shirt tucked carefully into your jeans, “That fine shirt you are currently wearing is mine.” 

You look down, and he’s right. It’s too late to go back inside to change, and you know he’s aware of this when you catch his amused smirk. He probably noticed the moment you had put it on, and had deliberately waited until it was too late for you to do anything about it to inform you. 

Bastard. 

“I-” you pinch the fabric between your fingers, looking between it and Eddie wildly for a second before your shoulders slumped in defeat, “It’s fine. I doubt they’ll even notice.” 

—

You were wrong. They do notice. 

Everyone is already waiting inside for the two of you, nestled around a table in the bar in a similar arrangement to the very first night you’d been introduced to the group. There’s only two empty seats left conveniently, right next to each other. You don’t miss that mischievous look of success on Robin’s face as she looks overly proud of herself.

They’d set it up so we’d sit next to each other. 

You’re grateful for your friends’ antics until you go to take the empty seat next to Steve.

“Is that Eddie’s shirt?” 

Robin is leaning around Steve eagerly as she says it, ridiculing the shirt intensely. 

“What?” you laugh nervously, looking down and tugging at the fabric. 

Lie. Make up a lie. Make it good. 

“That is Eddie’s shirt,” Nancy looks surprised across the table, looking up at the two of you questioningly. 

“What?” you repeat yourself. Eddie has already taken his seat, and is avoiding the stares of everyone, “No, it’s not.” 

“He has one just like it,” Jonathan adds fuel to the fire, “He literally wore it - what? Two days ago?” 

In a pathetic attempt of an excuse, you plop down in your seat and force an offended look, “People can own the same shirt. He’s not the gatekeeper of-” you look down, and nearly erupt in embarrassment when you see what the shirt is. “Deftones.” 

Ah, fuck. 

It’s not just the embarrassment of being on the verge of getting caught in your lie – it’s the memories that flood back. You, on Eddie’s lap. Your mouth and his becoming one. Steve calling, and you sucking so innocently on Eddie’s neck. 

Fuck. 

You really wish Steve and Robin hadn’t interrupted earlier. 

“It’s not like I got it at a show,” Eddie shrugs, and you wonder for a moment if he’s lying, “They’ve gotten more popular lately. I’ve seen their shit in Target.” 

“Exactly!” you exclaim a little too loudly, a little too quick to defend yourself, “Exactly. I just thought it looked cool at Target. Besides, tonight is about Argyle.”

You smile at the birthday boy, and he returns the joy as he waves a little at you. The reminder is all it takes for everyone’s attention to return to the focus of the night – everyone’s attention but Nancy’s. 

You can feel her eyes on you as conversation sparks up and debates of ordering shots begin. Everyone is busy asking Argyle what his plans for next weekend are – which are mostly composed of normal family gatherings, probably a homemade cake, etc. – but Nancy is watching you and Eddie like a hawk. In the peripheral of your eye, you watch the way she leans back so casually into Jonathan's around her shoulder, looking like she knows. You’re probably just being paranoid. You’re definitely just being paranoid. 

You try to ignore it, and instead let yourself just enjoy the moment. All your friends gathered, a group in which you finally feel like you belong to, jokes being made and laughter being exchanged that has you feeling a bit giddy. It’s nice. Even between the smoke of the room and the flickering lights overhead, murmuring chatter of nearby patrons mingling right in with your group’s noise, it’s homely. The smell of drunken cigars and fruity cocktails should be overwhelming, but you just let it wrap you up instead. 

And when you turn your head, inhaling deeply the smell of cinnamon and musk rather than all those other foreign anomalies, you find Eddie already looking at you. Soft eyes, bitten grin, a few loose curls framing his cheeks as his bangs curl up into his forehead. Even in the shoddy lighting, he takes your breath away. 

He’s looking at you. Just like that first night. Dozens of other people in this room at this moment, and he only has eyes for one – he only has eyes for you.

“So!” Argyle announces, “I think, my dudes, instead of doing what Birdie had so… excitedly suggested,” and oh, he was being generous and calling Robin suggesting he took twenty three shots for his twenty third birthday just her being excited rather than foolish, “We should just take the twenty three shots and split them up amongst the group.” 

Steve and Jonathan immediately groan, protesting how they’re driving, and Eddie only shakes his head with a chuckle. So far, he’d only ordered and been nursing on a plain coke, no whiskey. 

Somehow, sitting beside him with the group is worse than keeping distance. 

When he’d taken off his jacket, you’d silently begged for him to rest an arm across the back of your chair just as Jonathan was doing to Nancy. And he had, almost too naturally before he’d caught himself. It would have been easier to play off cooly, probably would have gone unnoticed, but your boy had practically jumped out of his bones as he’d flinched and tucked his arm back into himself suddenly. He’d even bumped his elbow against his own seat in his haste.

And Nancy had noticed. 

“That’s only three shots per person!” Argyle defends, “Four for me, since you know – birthday boy.” 

While Eddie may be avoiding alcohol tonight, you aren’t. Not unusual, but it had been odd when Eddie had told the waitress your order of an amaretto sour rather than you telling her yourself. 

Another strike. Another thing Nancy had noticed with her watchful eye.

“I’m down,” you shrug, “Hell, I’ll even take an extra shot if those two dumbasses won’t.” 

“Is that a good idea?” 

You wish Eddie had been drinking to excuse his idiocracy. Because all it takes is him saying that, not with malice but with concern, and the look on Nancy’s face told you she was officially catching on.

He hadn’t said it with the concern of a friend prepared to warn against drinking yourself sick. He’d said it with the concern of someone who would be taking care of you by the end of the night, of someone who would be dealing with the aftermath of that many shots. 

You two were bombing this whole secrecy, to put it lightly. 

You try to save the moment but laughing it off, turning to him slightly and teasing, “What, are you my keeper now?” 

Despite your best efforts, the statement doesn’t come across as friendly banter. It’s not quite fighting either. It’s a dare, you dangling something in Eddie’s face that no one else at this table quite sees. A stupid, idiotic continuation of your flirtatious game of cat and mouse from earlier in the apartment, when he’d deliberately gotten you hot and bothered. When he’d deliberately let you leave in his shirt. His palm is warm when he shifts ever so slightly, placing it on your thigh beneath the table. Out of sight from everyone else. Fueling and fanning all your growing flames. 

You two were toeing a very dangerous line tonight. 

His eyes darken a bit, and you pray no one else notices in the dim bar lighting, “I don’t know, am I?” 

Everyone is distracted enough with your idea. Steve and Jonathan were agreeing, saying they could take one shot and then others in the group could shoulder the extras. Robin was quick to also say she’ll take an extra one. But Nancy is silent, watching your quiet exchange with Eddie. 

“I don’t think you are, Munson.”

Except he is. Without a single doubt in your bones, you know that he is. 

Your playful smile betrays you. It tugs up the corners of your mouth and it’s clear to any outsider this wasn’t a brewing argument. The game was obvious if anyone was watching close enough. And Nancy, ever the smart one, was watching close enough. 

She’s playing her cards right, you realize, when she waits until the group has ordered the round of shots to say anything. 

“So, Eddie,” she begins, drawing the entire group’s attention to her best friend, “Do anything fun today?” 

He nearly chokes on his coke subtly. “I- Um-” 

“You just didn’t answer any of my texts today,” she continues on, “Must have been busy, yeah?” 

Eddie retracts his hand from your thigh, far more elusive in this action than he had been about removing his arm from your chair, before he fiddles with his hands in his lap. “Yeah – no, yeah. Sorry about that, Nance.” 

He pulls his phone from his pocket for no apparent reason. The shiny new smartphone, having not even bought a case or screen protector yet. You’d already yelled at him for that, claiming out of everyone, you trust him the least to not break the phone on the first day. He’d only laughed and shut you up with a kiss. 

His new phone is placed face down on the table, cherry red glinting, “I just had to go to the mall and-”

“Is that a new phone?” Argyle interrupts him, catching sight of the movement and the glinting, “Oh, holy shit, my dude! That’s a new phone! That is an iPhone if I’ve ever seen one!” 

Everyone – Robin, Steve, Jonathan – are rapidly leaning to catch sight of it as if they can’t believe it. Eddie continues to shrink at being the center of attention suddenly. 

“It is,” Steve laughs in disbelief, “Never thought I’d see the day, Munson.” 

Robin scrunches her face, “Does this mean we have to add him to the group chat?” 

You let out a giggle at that, lips pressed to try and contain some of that smile breaking through as you look at him and wiggle your brows. He immediately rolls his eyes, but picks up the phone regardless to give everyone a better look. 

“Yes, yes. I’ve finally joined the dark side,” he teases everyone just as the waitress returns with the tray of shots. Jonathan is the only one with enough sense to look away from Eddie’s spectacle, thanking her kindly, “Feast your eyes, my friends, for this is where my five hundred dollars went-” 

“Holy shit.” 

Nancy’s sudden whisper of an exclamation has everyone freezing. Eddie stops spinning and flipping the phone to show it off, staring at her with nothing but concerned, “What? What happen-” 

Nancy shares a look with Robin as they both grin.

Oh no. 

“Eddie,” Nancy says slowly, turning her head back his way slowly. 

“What?” Eddie frowns, eyes flitting back and forth between Nancy and Robin.

Robin is the one to ask the question rather than Nancy, “What exactly is your lockscreen?” 

Eddie goes pale. You’re confused, looking at the phone he’s currently cradling with the screen against his palm. 

Did he even change it? Wouldn’t it just be one of the default ones? 

“Guys,” you decide to come to his rescue, still impossibly confused, “It’s probably just some default screen, don’t tease him.” 

“That was not a default screen,” Nancy laughs out. 

Argyle looks around at everyone. Nancy and Robin, both with mischievous glints in their eyes. Eddie, still ghostly white as if he’s been caught red-handed. Steve and Jonathan, both just shrugging at each other. “Uh…. Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?”

“Show the class your lock screen, Eds.”

“Fuck off, Nancy.” 

“Oh my God,” Robin coos, leaning across Steve and pressing you back gently to catch sight of Eddie, who’s dipping his face down, “He’s blushing!” 

“Guys, leave him alone,” Steve insists, sharing a look with you now. But you have no clue what’s going on.

You have no clue what his lockscreen is. 

“Edward Munson, show us that lockscreen right now, or I’m Venmo-requesting five hundred dollars from you,” Robin continues to threaten. 

You look away from Steve and at Eddie immediately, leaning in closer to his space. He looks at you, clearly focusing on your presence more than everyone else’s, and smiles like a child trying to get out of trouble. 

“Eddie,” you say quietly, almost impossible for your friends to hear, “What the fuck is your lockscreen?” 

He slowly and carefully turns the screen towards you, making sure only your eyes can see it, and- oh.

It’s a low quality photo. Clearly taken on his flip phone. Details just a little fuzzy, and the darkness of the photo wasn’t helping. But you can see it clearly. You can make out exactly what it was that had Nancy and Robin losing their minds. 

It’s a picture of you and Eddie, with your head on Eddie’s chest.

For a moment, everyone else at the table doesn’t exist. You hadn’t been insane that night – he had taken a photo. A snapshot of the moment where everything had changed. The moment in which you had given up the fight and completely succumbed to just how much Eddie meant to you, how badly you pined for him and how deeply you liked him. 

“I was going to make it the one of you at Betty’s,” he whispers, “But, I just- I really liked this photo.” 

He’s still tense, as if he expects you to be upset with him. 

You’re the farthest thing from upset at him. 

“You made me your lockscreen?” you breathe out, a slow-growing smile beginning to stretch your lips. 

You’re not upset at him. As a matter of fact, you’re in love with him. You want to scream it from every rooftop, shout it to every stranger on the street – you are in love with Eddie Munson.

And you have been for a while. You just hadn’t found a way to tell him yet.

“Yeah,” he loosens up a little when he realizes you’re happy, enamored with the fact, “Yeah, of course I did. Who else am I going to make it besides my favorite…. Enemy?” 

He says it loud enough for everyone to hear clearly. All of Nancy’s teasing has come to a halt, Robin has settled back into her chair, and Steve is finally looking too curious for his own good. 

“As birthday boy,” Argyle breaks the moment, shatters away the bubble you and Eddie always seemed to end up in, “I am demanding I get to see this lockscreen.” 

Eddie doesn’t make any move to show the screen to any other person, only watching you for approval. 

Well, so much for next time. 

You give him a little nod. 

Eddie makes a dramatic show of it, sighing heavily before he very slowly turns his lockscreen to face everyone else. But even in his dramatics, you can see that weight lifting off his chest.

This, as a matter of fact, changes everything. 

No more hiding, no more lying. One simple flash of his phone screen, of a photo he had taken on a night that no one has even been gifted the details of yet, and all your friends suddenly know.

The reactions all vary. 

Argyle leans forward and squints before his face breaks out into pure joy for the two of you, “Oh, fuck yes! Best birthday gift ever. Pay up, my dudes!” 

Jonathan leans backward, digging out his wallet as he murmurs, “Son of a bitch.” 

Steve only smiles and shakes his head, also digging for his wallet as he seemingly chastizes himself, “I should have fucking known.” 

“Hold on,” you look between everyone as Jonathan digs out a couple twenties, “Wait, did you guys fucking bet on this?” 

“We did,” Robin answers you, holding up a hand to make Jonathan and Steve pause their retrieval of cash, “What do you take us for? Idiots? Now, gentlemen, before either of you payout, we’ve gotta ask the most important question,” she shoves a palm against Steve’s chest so that he’s out of line of sight, gaze set on you and Eddie, “When did this happen?” 

You don’t have any time to be mad at your friends. Because when Robin asks you this, suddenly you’re back to two months ago. You’re outside your dorm with Eddie, kissing him as if tomorrow would never be promised, and you’re home. 

You pulled back from Eddie finally, both of you gasping for breath as he held you steady. Your exchange from moments before still hung heavy in the air. 

You liked him, you liked him, you liked him. 

And the feeling was mutual. 

You’d already known, but it was nice to hear. It was nice to be reminded that this, what had happened between you two, was so very real. 

“I don’t wanna start over,” the words tumbled from your tongue before you could consider them, upheaving from your chest, desperate for Eddie to heard them, “I- I don’t need to start over. I like our story, okay? You had been right – it wasn’t all bad, and… and I don’t want to start over. I never want you to be a stranger again, and I know that sounds stupid-” 

“It’s not stupid,” he interrupted you, forehead meeting yours, “So very not stupid.” 

“I don’t care if you were a dick,” you continued on, carefully, “I was, too. We were both… shitty. I forgive you. I’ll forgive you a thousand times over, as long as you keep trying to make it up to me.” 

“Make it up to you?” he grinned playfully, “And just how do you suggest I start making it up to you?” 

“Ask me out,” his eyebrows raised in surprise, and you knew you must have looked like a wild idiot to everyone else, but you didn’t care, “To dinner, to a movie, to just hang around your apartment with you for another twenty four hours – I don’t care. Just… Just please, Munson, ask me out.” 

And so he had. A first date, a second date, a third. You two had gone through the entire ordeal of every cliche relationship despite the unconventional beginning. You’d gone to dinner, you’d gone to a movie, and you had done plenty of hanging out around his apartment and more. 

“The night of the bet,” Eddie answers as he finally brings an arm up around your shoulders, just as he had wanted to earlier. 

Immediately, both Robin and Argyle let out their own curses, pulling out their wallets just as Steve and Jonathan had. 

You look between them, all the annoyance you should feel just being run over with adoration for these idiots. Your eyes land on Nancy, and when you realize she’s the only one at the table not coughing up any cash, you ask her, “I’m assuming you guessed correctly?” 

“I did,” she nods, looking proud of herself. 

“How’d you know?” 

Nancy raises a threatening finger, before suddenly pointing it right in Eddie’s direction, “That idiot has always been down bad for you-”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie stops her, “I’ve already told her the nitty gritty details. No need to embarrass me.” 

“No need to embarrass you?” Nancy asks in disbelief, “Good God, just how many times did I have to sit and listen to you pine for her? No, no – I have earned this, Munson.” 

You look at Eddie, a glint in your eye, “You only told me about the first time.”

“I only remembered the first time,” he counters, blushing under yellow and faded lights, “I was usually dru-”

“Don’t lie,” Nancy stops him, “There were plenty of rants where you were dead sober.” 

Everyone only smiles at Eddie, a few teasing comments made his way, but none of them matter as you lean into his side, your shoulder bumping his to the best of your ability with his arm still around you.

“Aw, babe,” you coo, warm all over for the man beside you, “You had a crush on me? That’s cute.” 

His chin lowers, eyes boring into yours with unlimited affection. For a moment, it’s just you and Eddie. The guise of you two having your own bubble of a moment. 

His head tilts further, his ears brushing your ear as he whispers for just you to hear, “So did you, if I’m not mistaken.” 

“Not mistaken,” you whisper back. Money is now being exchanged, tossed across the table with grumbles that hold no heat. 

Yeah, you did have a crush on Eddie. You still do. You don’t think you’ll ever stop having a crush on him, even as he’s surrendered himself as yours. Especially not when his thumb is stroking your shoulder as it is now. 

Just like that very first night. The smoky bar fades to nothingness, your tunnel vision focused on Eddie. You know jokes are being made about the two of you by your friends, but it’s all white noise when he’s looking at you like this. Like you’re everything to him, like he’s just returned home after a long week. 

You’d really like to be his home to return to after every long week, for the rest of your lives, but there’ll be time to ponder on that later. For now, you two have time. 

The voice inside your head suddenly comes to life as it recognizes that this is your moment. You can tell him. Now that you’ve told everyone else, you can tell him those three words. Finally get them off your chest. Make it real. 

“Hey, Munson,” you say, still quiet enough for the words to only reach his ears. He perks up, eager to drink your next words. You have all his attention. You always have all his attention, “I-” and then you choke. He stares curiously for a few seconds, and the words just won’t come out. You want to scream – you wonder if it would work if you screeched the three words at the top of your lungs. Probably not, “I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me,” a pathetic excuse at a coverup,  “And… I’m really glad they made that first bet.” 

He smiles so softly, it strikes you right in the center of your chest. Right amongst your garden that not only had you tended for him, but that he had also had a hand in watering these last few months. 

You should have told him. You love him, and you should have told him. 

“I’m really glad I didn’t hate you, too,” he remarks, squeezing your shoulder a little tighter, “Actually, I’m glad you don’t hate me. Not anymore, at least.” 

“I never really did.”

“You definitely sort of did. You tried to take me out with a glass, remember?” 

You burst into secluded laughter, hearing your friends beginning to pass around the shots but paying them no mind. 

Eddie can’t help it. He pulls you in close, placing an impulsive kiss to your temple and letting his lips linger there. Just pressed against you, breathing in the scent of you. 

That kiss sends shivers down your spine, warmth through the center of your bones. You love him. 

You love him, you love him, you love him. 

So why can’t you just tell him that?

“Aw!” Robin pulls the two out of your bubble, “Aren’t they just adorable?”

“Yes, yes,” Steve passes two shot glasses down to your end of the table, “Absolutely adorable. It’s nauseating. Also, I’d like to go on record – I totally knew the entire time. I was just giving them the benefit of the doubt.” 

“Playing the Devil’s advocate?” Argyle asks, lining up his multiple shots, “I dig it. Even though you’re totally lying right now.” 

“You’re so lucky it’s your birthday, dude,” Steve rolls his eyes, clearly holding back an insult. 

Eddie’s arm stays heavy on you, a welcome weight as you sit up straighter to take your own several shots. 

These were your friends. Somewhere you belonged, filled with people you loved and a boy you could come home to after all your long weeks. A certain happiness that is rare, and impossible to place, and can nearly bring you to tears overwhelms you as you grab that first shot. 

“Also-” Steve turns to you and Eddie, “I knew that was Munson’s shirt. The day he got it, all he did was brag about what a rare find it was. Fuck off with your Target bullshit.” 

Eddie’s hand leaves your shoulder long enough to reach out and thump Steve, laughter booming and vibrating against you, “Sure you did, Stevie.” 

“Target has some nice things,” Nancy offers with a shrug, now holding her own shot glass. 

The seven of you all hold up the first of what will probably be too many shots tonight, the beginning of a night that will probably be remembered through killer hangovers tomorrow and possibly even captured on camera by the likes of Jonathan, Steve, and Eddie. 

“To Argyle,” you take the lead on the cheers, jittery and anxious as all the love you continue to withhold buzzes in your chest, lifting your small glass in his direction, “The most lovable twenty three year old I know.” 

Everyone moves to drink, but Argyle immediately shakes his head, “Nah, fuck that. It’s not even my birthday yet – I demand a new toast.” 

He lifts his brows, staring you down and silently adding, you know what to do. 

And yeah, you did know what to do. 

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically, leaning further forward, Eddie’s arm following. You relish in the tense silence as everyone waits for what you’re about to say instead. Even Eddie is waiting with bated breath, watching your every move, a contrasting yet easy smile on his face, “To bets.” 

A booming applause from your group. Glasses tapping against the wooden table before shots are downed. Groans of disgust as the tequila hits everyones’ tongues. 

Eddie hardly waits before you’ve both swallowed to remove his arm and grab your face, turning your cheek so that his lips can capture yours. Everyone only cheers louder, Steve letting out an obnoxious whistle as Argyle claps. You’re surely going to get kicked out of the bar at this rate. But you really don’t care as you kiss your boy back. 

Next time. You have to tell him next time. 

—

The night ends in more of a whisper than a bang, surprisingly. 

Everyone has suddenly become a happy drunk, probably from all the love and good news passed around throughout the night. It’s all warm feelings and warm hugs, tequila on the breath and love on the mind. 

You don’t even get kicked out of the bar. Your waitress only smiles at your rowdy table from time to time, and you figure that all the good vibes must be rubbing off on her. 

Steve is the first to call it quits. Robin has drank enough to give herself the hiccups, and he says that after that, she almost always gets viciously nauseous. He wants to get in the car and home before she gets to the point, for the sake of his car’s interior not getting covered in puke.

It’s a domino effect from there.

Argyle quickly agrees, Jonathan offers a guiding arm to Nancy, and Eddie’s arm only tightens around you. The group closes out the tab, putting off worries of everyone paying Jonathan back until tomorrow. Quick, simple, painless. 

Until you all get outside. And goodbyes are exchanged – that’s not the part that gets to you – with promises of seeing each other throughout the week. Everyone congratulates you and Eddie one more time for good measure, Nancy and Steve looking the most proud of you two as Argyle and Robin giggle like children about it. And it’s fine – you laugh along and it’s all good. You let them get in all their I told you so’s and know it’s all in good fun. 

It’s all fine. Until you two branch off from the group, Eddie’s bike across the lot from everyone else’s cars. 

The moment you two are alone, you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or if it’s the levity of suddenly having a moment that only belongs to you. Your mind wastes no time of reminding you of your pathetic cop out: I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me. None of those words even sound akin to the real ones you should have said.

I love you. 

It’s not because your friends have found out. You know it’s not that, because just last week, right after your breakdown about whether you were smothering Eddie by half-living in his apartment, you’d had a breakdown because you realized you wanted to fully live in his apartment. You’d had a breakdown because you hadn’t grown tired of him yet, hadn’t satisfied the need to see his face every morning when you first wake up yet. You hadn’t gotten bored with all his lingering affectionate touches. You hadn’t gotten used to the way he’d kiss you in the middle of sentences. He was still taking your breath away, two months later, and you had a breakdown because you realized it wasn’t novelty or a pathetic crush making you feel this way.

You had a breakdown because you love Eddie. 

You love him, ardently so, and you still can’t find the right moment to say those words to him. He deserves to know – the entire foundation of this relationship was honesty.

It’s all you can think about as his hand finds yours and he’s walking up to his bike, practically dragging you up to his bike as your legs forget how to work amongst nerves. 

“So, I was thinking,” he carries on conversation so casually, “You want to spend the night at my place? I know you said you don’t have any class-“ 

Now. Not later, not next time. Now. 

“Hey, Eddie?” you interrupt him, stopping the two of you a few paces away from his bike. 

His face is impossibly concerned as he looks down at you, clearly reading the worry on your face, “What’s up, babe?” 

Here goes nothing – be brave.

“I-” 

Why is this so hard? 

It shouldn’t be this hard, because loving Eddie is easy. 

It’s easy when he’s looking at you like this, like he always does. It’s easy when he wakes up after you, and he comes into the kitchen to just wrap himself around you as you make him coffee, no matter what time of day it might be. It’s easy when he catches your eye from across the room during outings, sometimes winking once he knows you’ve found his gaze, just to see you laugh. It’s easy when he tries to distract you from homework when you’ve been spending far too many hours hunched over your laptop on his couch, coming and bugging you, laying his head on your lap and insisting his girl needs a break. It’s easy when he kisses you and everything just feels right. 

It’s easy. He loves you – you love him.  It isn’t hard. You’re making this hard, when it never was. 

“I love you,” you admit quietly, voice shaking as the words leave you easily. 

Loving Eddie is easy. 

“I love you,” you say more surely, voice raising in volume as you find the willpower to look into his eyes, “I love you so fucking much, Eddie.” 

Each time you say it, you gain confidence in it. It’s true – you love him. You love him so much, it encompasses every inch of your being. It entirely consumes you. You love him. 

His face falls slowly, mouth agape and eyes boring into yours.

You don’t wait for his response. You already have it – in the way he’s still holding your hand, in the way he holds you at the end of each night, in the way he knows both your orders at bars and coffee shops. In the way he will always put himself between you and the street when walking down the sidewalk, in the way when he roughly stops his bike at stop lights that his hand always flies back to hold onto you. In every soft touch and every expression of devotion he has offered you for not just two months, but for over a year. 

“You love me?” he softly asks, finally beginning to come back to life. 

You nod without hesitation, “I love you, Eddie.” 

Now that you’ve started saying it, you can’t stop it. And each time, it’s still heavy and sweet like honey, even as the confession comes as easy as breathing. It’s pouring from every crevice, filling up the night air around you. 

He takes you off guard with a harsh kiss. His teeth colliding with yours, his breath stealing yours, his entire being molded with yours. 

“Say it again,” he begs in a murmur as he pulls you in even closer, desperate as you break into a smile, “God, please say it again, sweetheart.” 

“I love you,” your cheeks begin to ache, the kiss no longer even to be a considered a kiss as you two are just mindlessly pressing your smiles together, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” with each repeat of the sentiment, Eddie drinks it in, “I’m so fucking in love with you, Eddie Munson. You and your stupid lockscreen and-”

“You do not think my lockscreen is stupid,” he pulls away, raising his eyebrows as his palms squish your cheeks, “I saw the way you looked at me. You were eating that shit up.” 

You bite your lip, trying to pull further away from him, but he won’t let you, “I was not-”

“You were,” he cheekily teases, eyes bright as he looks at you, “You were, and it was the best thing ever. Totally worth stealing Argyle’s spotlight.” 

“We didn’t steal Argyle’s spotlight,” you try to defend yourself. 

“We so did.”

You shake your head to the best of your abilities, face still between his hands, “We… Okay, we sort of did.”

He grins like a young boy, all his youth and all his love on show for you as he leans down, pausing right before pressing another kiss to your lips, “We definitely did. And it’s fair, because they fucking bet on us.” 

“They did,” you agree, not even feeling guilty anymore, too consumed by the love for the man right in front of you, “They tend to do that a lot, don’t they?” 

“They do.” 

He finally surges forward, lips sealing against yours one last time. It’s less messy this time, more meaningful. A bit more patient as he takes the time to fit his lips into yours, just as they should be. 

You have an audience. You’re completely oblivious until you hear the cheering from across the parking lot, snapping apart to both glance at where Argyle and Robin are jumping up and down, screaming their heads off. 

“Hell yeah, my dudes!” Argyle’s voice booms as Robin only produces incoherent coos to echo. 

Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan are all just watching silently, shaking their heads, but you can also see their grins. Almost as radiant as you felt.

Steve finally cups his hands around his mouth, sending his voice to you over Argyle’s continuing whooping, “Get a room!” 

Perfectly in sync, you and Eddie both throw up a hand with your middle fingers raised in their direction, still half tangled in each other. 

Your eyes find Nancy. She’s looking at you two with overwhelming pride, a certain satisfaction that breathes out the relief of finally. This may be a weight off not only your chest but Eddie’s as well, yet you can’t help but imagine just how she feels. How many nights she had stomached Eddie’s rambles about you leading up to this very moment. The pay off must be unimaginable. 

Finally. 

“Congrats on finally getting the girl, Munson!” she calls out, but her eyes are on you, winking. 

You see it now. Why they’re best friends. How all her best parts and Eddie’s best parts overlap and compliment one another perfectly. 

Jonathan is the final one to yell across the parking lot at you two, one arm slung around Nancy as the other moves to unlock his car, even his usually grumpy face showing signs of elation in that timid smile, “Now take your girl, home, dude. Spare the rest of us the gory details.” 

Eddie’s laugh reverberates against you physically from how he holds you, also making its way to burrow deep within your chest where all that liquid bliss belongs, as he throws his entire head back and makes you finally focus on just him again. Home. Not just his apartment, but him. You realize now that it’s simply wherever he goes. Where he leads, you’ll follow. It could be a shitty dorm room with a mattress that leaves your back aching, it could be a comforting apartment that holds you ‘hostage’ for twenty four hours straight – it doesn’t really matter. Wherever he is, home is. He’s your home; you love him, he knows you love him, and he’s your home. 

When his laughter finally fades, and he’s looking at you again, his dimples are prominent as ever through his whisper, “Just in case you’ve forgotten – I’m very much in love with you, too, sweetheart.” 

His lips meet yours for good measure. 

It’s been the longest week of your life, the longest year, but you’re finally home.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

[harunayuuka2060]

MC's stepmother: MC, I told you to clean the bedrooms! What are you still doing there?

MC: Cooking.

MC's stepmother: How dare you answer to me!

MC: 'Cause you're asking.

MC's stepmother: Hmph! Clean the bedrooms! And stop being lazy, you pitiful brat! *walks away*

MC: 'You pitiful brat' *while making a face*

Their father: *walking into the kitchen* *chuckles when he sees them*

Their father: I've heard your mother—

MC: She's not my mother.

Their father: Okay. I've heard my second wife yelling. Don't mind her. She doesn't know any better.

MC: I've got used to it. And I still despise you for marrying again. You should've stayed single.

Their father: Come on. We're not talking about this again.

Their father: Anyway, I have a good news for you. *shows them an invitation letter*

MC: What's that?

Their father: An invitation to enter Night Raven College~! Haha! I knew you would be chosen!

MC: ...

MC: You know I don't have magic.

Their father: You do! It— It hasn't awaken yet, but you do!

MC: I'm 16 years old, Dad! I went to different schools of magic, had undergone trainings to awaken this "magic" which I didn't have.

MC: That invitation must be fake.

Their father: No, it's not! It has the official seal and your name on it!

MC: *looks sternly at him* Did you use your connection?

Their father: *guiltily* No.

MC: Dad—

Their father: You should hurry! The carriage will be arriving any moment! *pushing them out of the kitchen*

MC: How about the food?!

Their father: My second wife will do it! Quick! Quick! Run along! Enjoy your youth!

MC: Seriously?!

Their father: I'm gonna miss you. *sniffles* Don't forget to write!

MC's stepmother: *hands them her credit card* Use that.

MC: I don't need it. I have my own money.

MC's stepmother: Just use it, I'm telling you.

*The carriage has arrived.*

MC's stepmother : That child is claustrophobic. Is it okay if you not ask them to be inside that... *looks creeped out with the "gate"*...thing?

MC: They'll put me to sleep. I won't even know.

MC's stepmother: ...

MC's stepmother: I slipped an axe into your bag.

MC: ...

MC: Are you crazy?

MC's stepmother: What?

Their father: Enjoy your trip! Me and my second wife will be fine here!

MC: *rolls eyes and gets into the gate*

MC: *on their first arrival*

MC: *sigh*

MC: Can I drop on my first day?

Professor Trein: Not possible.

MC: But I don't have magic! And you didn't have to give my dad a refund if that's what you're worried about.

Professor Trein: You might be a late bloomer and we're not giving up on you.

MC: Ugh...

Crowley: Is this our new student? *has approached them*

Professor Trein: Yes.

Crowley: Welcome to Night Raven College. What do you think of our school so far?

MC: Just like any other schools I've been from.

Crowley: *gasped* I don't think I can accept that. Night Raven College is the most prestigious school in all Twisted Wonderland!

MC: There's Royal Sword Academy.

Crowley: They're our rival! *clears throat* We promised to your father that we will awaken your hidden magic. You need to trust us.

MC: You accept nepo-babies. Why would I trust you? *their father is a well-known movie producer*

Crowley: ...

Crowley: Let's go to the Mirror Chamber. Follow me.

MC and Professor Trein: ...

MC: He's not trustworthy.

Professor Trein: I can't disagree with you.

MC: *ends up in Ignihyde*

Idia: ...

MC: ...

Idia: Do you have any questions?

MC: No. I just want to go home.

Idia: Mwehee! Me too. *clears throat* Sorry. No one will bother you in Ignihyde. I can assure you that.

MC: Thanks... I can see that all of you here are minding your own business.

[hwathinker]

"no one's going to look at that dress on you except me."

pairings ; idol!boyfriend!seonghwa x non idol!fem!reader warnings ; just pure smut (mdni lol), yes i have a thing for fingering and licking </3 wn ; i've been very lazy lately but i felt like writing something haha (just want hwa's cock fr) lmk if there are any errors thanks

its your dinner night with your co-workers today, now you're unpacking your things out on the floor one by one. seonghwa had a day off from work after their world tour as they're already finished. he booked a room in the hotel you're going to have dinner at, but instead of booking for one person, he got a bigger room as he's going to accompany you along. honestly the best idea to let him be with you. really.

you and seonghwa went to the mall after you've checked in and already had your stuff in your hotel room. now, hunting for foods to stay in the night. "baby, are you sure you're going to the dinner night? i got a bad feeling about it.." seonghwa said. he didn't want you to go simply because he don't want anyone to look at you with the dress he got you on your birthday. you looked at him, smiling and confused at the same time. "why wouldn't i? its my first dinner night as a co-worker. of course i'd go." you grabbed three to four packs of chips, along with some instant noodles and put it in the basket seonghwa was holding.

"i know but... ahh you know baby?! Sometimes it's quite best to listen to your boyfriend! I mean.." he stuttered, not wanting to let you know about his jealousy over the dress. You didn't bother to say something, bringing him to the counter and pay for everything. After you both had shopped for foods, you head back to your hotel room. To get some rest before going to have fun tonight.

you plopped down on your shared king sized bed leaving the foods unpacked from its plastic bags. seonghwa was still at the front door, taking off his shoes before joining you. he moved closer, grabbing you by the waist. "baby, please? i don't want you to go." he pouts. you caressed his cheeks as you smiled. "its just for about.. until midnight. just like how we're away when you're busy with your schedules." you said, pinching his nose as he smiles. "fine. i'll let you. lets take a nap, shall we? wouldn't wanna let my baby gets tired before her best night." seonghwa said. little did he know, he won't let you go tonight anyway.

8:25pm

strawberry perfume filling the room, with your heat curled hair just on the right length. the red satin dress that seonghwa had bought for your anniversary months ago, hugs your body so well, with a little cut to your knees. everything goes so well along with your perfect makeup you had practiced for tonight. also, your black purse making you look elegant. seonghwa was in bed, already in his favorite black pajamas. behind being busy with his phone, he was too nervous to look at you. "hwa, do i look good?" you said, turning back from the mirror for him to look at you clearer. seonghwa cleared his throat, eyebrow furrowed but his eyes didn't shift a little to even glance at you. "uh.. yeah... it looks very pretty, baby." he said. the reaction he had doesn't excite you that much. you walked towards him, putting your purse down on the bed. hovering over him sweating a little by little. you took his phone away, throwing it somewhere only god knows.

seonghwa, once again cleared his throat. folding his hands over his chest as he looks away except you. you quickly grab his face by his chin, eyes locked to his big ones. seonghwa finally giving in, making an eye contact with you, slowly going down to your dress. scanning your whole profile, he felt himself growing erection. you backed off, giving him more view of your whole look. seonghwa was in awe, sitting up as he's still looking at you up and down, slowly. "so? any comments now?" you said, feeling impatient for his answers. seonghwa simply got up, basically hovering over your still small body even wearing the high heels. he held you by your waist, pulling you closer to him . caressing your hair, gently grabbing some to admire. you smiled, throwing your arms over his shoulder, approving his silent compliments. "oh baby, i bet everyone will love this look of yours." he said, cupping your cheek as he kisses you passionately. his other hand, going down to your ass, gently squishing them.

you melted into the kiss, slowly forgetting about the dinner you're going to have for about an hour. seonghwa pulled you closer, slowly walking backwards to the bed. as you both pulled away from your kiss, he's finally sat on the bed, with you hovering over him. hands on his shoulders, your left leg placed beside his, as his hands are still glued on your body. you looked at the clock on the wall, 8:49pm. "shit, its getting late. i have to go now-" you were about to let go but seonghwa had his arms around you as soon as you noticed. you looked down at him, his eyes were.. full of lust. his tongue pressed on the inside if his cheek. "baby i have to-" "no one's going to look at that dress on you except me." you were once got cut off again by him. looking at him ever so confusingly, you laughed it off. "so.. you begged me not to go because of this dress i had from you?" you said, placing your hands on his shoulder once again.

"i don't think i allow my princess to go around so sexy like this. this look on you.." he hissed, furrowing his eyebrows together as he looks at your curves along with his hands tracing them. "its only for me. for my eyes only, baby." he leaned down, bringing you along as you're now hovering over him again. "do you know how much i've been imagining you with this dress on but you never put it on back then.. i'd love to hear my name moaned out by your sweet voice.. in this dress." he said again. his eyes still admiring your body non stop. you smirked at him, rolling down next to him, signaling him to go on top of you.

"obedient... and controlling much? love, you have no idea how hot you are." he said, grabbing the both of your hands and holding them with one hand over your head. "you love it hm? love it when i use this kind of clothing so that you would have an excuse to fuck me out with your aching dick?" you teased, wiggling your feet to let go of your heels and place them around seonghwa's waist. "you're one to talk." seonghwa kissed you, not rough, but also not so gentle. just the way you love it. he leans closer to you, resting his body on yours as his other hands rests on your neck. you felt his crotch pressed against your wet core, so you tried to thrust upwards to meet his aching dick once again. he noticed that, stopping every movements as he backed off an inch away to look into your eyes. "i thought you were more into the dinner more than me." he said, getting up from you. he flipped you around and took off his pants. you looked back, noticing a patched on his boxer. you smirked in his current state. seonghwa gently press on his erection, eyes only locked on you. "you see this..? this is your fault, babygirl." reaching to your back, he unzips your dress.

exposing your back, naked without a bra. (shh.. you used a sticky(?) bra thing on ur tits ;D) seonghwa licked his bottom lips, caressing your waist as he slid the dress down till it fell on the floor. "baby.. where is your bra hm? really was expecting this moment don't you?" he said, now ripping off your laced black panties. you whined at his hands roaming around your body, basically tickling you in a hot way. "please.. stop." you begged, not wanting to be in the teasing session anymore. seonghwa leaned to you, holding your face up by your chin making you look at him. "please what..?" he licked your earlobe, pecking on it all the way to your shoulder. "p-please.. just fuck me already..!" you whined, feeling his soft lips going down to your wet core.

seonghwa finally reached your heated cunt, looking at every curves as possible. "i need you to turn around for me baby." he said, tapping your thighs twice. you obeyed, rolling to your back as you sigh in relaxation. seonghwa put your legs up, locking them down on the mattress with his arms to get a clear view on your leaking core. seonghwa breathed to your pussy, knowing you would feel it. "baby, you're already so wet now? you are so.. so naughty." he licked your folds, wanting to hear the pretty voice of yours. after giving them kitten licks, he went looking at your cunt again. this time, you're constantly twitching as you wanted more of his tongue. he loved the way you just breath so hard without your words, but your cunt says everything you need just by twitching so much.

seonghwa caress the outside of your folds before inserting one finger in, eyes focusing on your reaction to it. he loves.. like really loves you making those faces while you hold in your moans. "louder love, don't hold them in if you love it." he said, increasing the pace of his finger. "a-ah, mm.. hwa.. please.." you moaned out. seonghwa slowed down once more, "please what hmm..?" sucking on your clit and flatten his tongue on them. your mind was spinning at how good he's making you feel. "just... let me cum.." you quietly said, stopping seonghwa's hand from moving again. instead, his tongue was teasing your clit. "please.. hwa, i just want to cum on your face.. your dick.." you breathily begged. he kissed your inner thigh as approval, inserting another finger inside you as he pump them faster. along with his tongue licking your pussy so good. you rolled your eyes back, pleasure waving over. your thigh was shaking, winning over his arms that was holding them back as you squished his face with your thigh.

when you were close, he pulled out his finger as he gets up. he licks them until they're clean, it made you shiver. "oh baby, need you to cum all over me now." seonghwa went back to his position, this time he's licking your cunt until you cum. his tongue works so perfectly inside you, rolling them smoothly and hitting the right spot. "yes.. more.. ah, i'm gonna-" as soon as you were going to finish your sentence, you moaned out in pleasure as you came onto his tongue. seonghwa cleaned your release so well, not missing any drop behind.

after he licked them clean, he gave your puffy cunt a peck before getting up to get off his boxer. his dick springs out, almost touching your lower stomach. "don't think i am done yet with you. that was only a warmup. well, for me."

-

haa omgg shai posted another seonghwa smut omg ! bro yall have no idea how HORNY i am over the recent concert like... seonghwa be fucking the thin air and i'm here with my aching pussy like... GOD just fuck me already

[cosmicanakin]

★ SATIVA.

੭୧ . . . vinnie hacker x female!reader.

ᯓ after a long week apart, vinnie's weed stash and his kisses melts away any stress.

warning(s) smoking┆weed┆smut┆fingering┆heavy use of pet names┆overstimulation┆aftercare. 𓇼 have yall seen those videos of vinnie in milan for the prada show ???? lord have mercy. he looked so YUMMY. but before i get TOO carried away … another vinnie + smoking sesh fic as promised w some smut ;) eighteen plus! adult content | minors do NOT interact.

　✧⠀ ⠀⠀　𓈒　⠀⠀ ⠀૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ꪆৎ masterlist.

you've been busy with work all week and haven't gotten to see your boyfriend vinnie for almost a full seven days. and it's definitely been taking its toll on both of you. so late last night you sent him a text asking if he had any weed left and wanted to come over after his long day of filming for a smoke sesh, knowing it would help relax you both.

waking up this morning to a text from him saying he was on his way over lifted your spirits instantly. you tidied up your place as quickly as possible, putting on some lowkey music in the background to get in a chill mood. just as you finished fluffing the blankets and pillows on your couch, you heard the doorbell ring.

bounding over excitedly, you swung it open to reveal your handsome boyfriend standing there holding a backpack and wearing his signature beanie pulled low over his messy curls. "hey baby," he greets with a grin, eyes lighting up upon seeing you. you throw your arms around his neck in a tight squeeze, inhaling his familiar woodsy cologne you've missed so much.

"i'm so glad you're here," you mumble into his hoodie, feeling vinnie's arms come around your waist to hold you close. after a long moment he pulls back to press a lingering kiss to your lips with a contented hum. "me too, pretty girl. i've been craving your company all week." taking his hand, you lead vinnie inside to the living room.

sitting him down on the plush couch, you rummage through the bag for the goods as vinnie kicks off his shoes to get comfortable. you grab his grinder and roll up a fresh joint, handing it to him along with the lighter. leaning back against your boyfriend's broad chest with a pleased sigh, you let vinnie spark the flame and take the first hit before passing it to you.

inhaling deeply, you hold it in as usual before blowing billowing smoke up toward the ceiling with a happy sigh. your body starts melting into vinnie automatically, feeling his arms come around your middle to hold you close as you pass the blunt between you. you chat lazily about everything and nothing, catching up on the mundane details of your days apart.

time slips away as the weed helps dull your mind and heavy lids start drooping, relaxation seeping into stressed muscles. a comfortable silence settles over you both as vinnie thumbs gently at your waist under your shirt, lips pressing lazy kisses into your hair. you set the blunt aside on the coffee table, content for the moment to simply exist here wrapped in his embrace.

a light shiver runs through your body from the pleasant tingles washing over you from vinnie's tender caresses. you can feel his growing interest pressing into your lower back, eliciting a low hum of approval. tilting your head back against his broad shoulder, you meet vinnie's lidded gaze before leaning up to capture his parted lips slowly.

his hands slide up under your top to glide appreciatively over sensitized skin, igniting sparks wherever he explores. vinnie's mouth moves to leave open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck, evoking breathy sighs of pleasure. "i've missed you so much, sweetheart," he rumbles against your flushed skin. you eagerly help him tug your top off before attacking his hoodie zipper.

with eager hands you undress each other down to bare skin, exploring familiar planes with renewed fervor after your long absence. vinnie's tongue swipes expertly at taut nipples, taking his time lavishing them until you're panting and squirming in his lap. his thick length prods teasingly at your slick entrance, making you whimper and rock down desperately to take more of him.

vinnie stills your hips with strong hands and kisses along your chest tattoos adoringly. "slow down, baby. we've got all night," he purrs, eyes dark with longing. you nod shakily, threading your fingers through his dark curls and urging his mouth back to yours hungrily. vinnie shifts to lift you easily, legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom.

gently laying you out among the rumpled sheets, vinnie settles between your thighs, palms caressing worshipfully up your curves. you seize handfuls of blanket on either side anxiously waiting for his next touch to drive you mad. his fingers tease your dripping cunt for torturous moments before two long digits slide smoothly inside. you keen helplessly at the fullness, walls fluttering needily around him.

vinnie pumps his fingers leisurely, stretching your entrance as his thumb toys with your swollen clit. "fuck baby, you feel so good around me," he praises earnestly, eyes trained intently on your writhing form coming undone below him. every flick and curl sends waves of ecstasy crashing through your body until you feel yourself tumbling over the edge with a cry, walls clamping down in a pulsing rhythm.

your boyfriend leans up to kiss you sweetly through your quaking orgasm, savoring your blissed expression of euphoria. vinnie speeds up his ministrations to keep you hovering on the edge. then stops to position his thick length at your oozing entrance, eyes locking onto yours sincerely.

"i love you so much, princess," vinnie whispers before gradually sliding into your welcoming heat. you gasp in unison, his girth stretching you deliciously full once more. a few heartbeats pass adjusting to the intimate joining as vinnie showers your face in tender kisses, worshipping your beauty. when you nod, he pulls back slowly only to sink deeper with agonizing precision.

building a powerful rhythm, vinnie gives you every inch as his hips roll expertly, angling to hit that sweet spot with each pass. you moan wantonly into the slick skin of his shoulder, nails raking down broad shoulders and back sure to leave marks. the drag of your walls milking his length expertly pushes vinnie closer to the edge much too soon in his lust-filled state.

his fingers find your pearl swollen and straining once more, rapidly working it towards another euphoric fall. vinnie's breath hitches and stutters out in coarse grunts as he feels your orgasm crashing in, dragging his own release by the hair. "come for me, sweet girl," he growls in your ear, hips snapping sharply a few more times before stilling buried deep as his release hits hard.

vinnie trembles and shakes through his high, fingers still methodically working your cunt until you're mindlessly keening and thrashing from overstimulation. he lets you ride out what seems your third or fourth high of the night against his heaving chest, worshipping your sweat-slick form with gentle caresses and sweet nothings murmured into your hair.

once you both come down from cloud nine, vinnie lifts you easily in his arms to carry you over to your en-suite bathroom for a shower. he washes you tenderly from head to toe, rinsing sweat from your sated muscles now jelly-like and replete. after drying off, he bundles you in fresh fluffy towels, kissing along your damp shoulder lazily before you head to bed for well-earned rest.

sliding under cool sheets, you curl into vinnie's waiting arms, forehead pressed to his as you smile contentedly. "i love you so much, vinnie. thank you for coming over to relax with me," you murmur tenderly. vinnie beams, cupping your cheek to plant his signature kiss to your lips softly. "no where else i'd rather be, baby. you're the best medicine to all my stress."

drifting off peacefully wrapped in your boyfriend's tender embrace, you know he'll be by your side through anything as long as you have each other. nothing washes worries away quite like vinnie's unconditional love and care shown through gentle intimacy. you've missed him terribly all week but now drifting off sated in his arms, you know nothing could tear you apart.

[mmmichyyy]

40? for the prompt

#40. "am i your husband or your taxi service?"

the first time it happens, mickey doesn't think much of it.

can you pick me up after my shift? too tired to take the L

when mickey is near the station, he parks the van a block away. force of habit from when he and his brothers used to sneak up and collect from people who owed terry money. plus, he doesn't particularly want ian's coworkers to see their stolen ambulance, even though it's completely unrecognizable after debbie helped them revamp the entire thing and paint over it with the logo sandy designed.

here

i don't see you

i'm parked a block away

pick me up at the station

your legs don't work?

i'm tired :(

i drove the van

it's fine no one will be able to tell lol

mickey rolls his eyes and drops his phone in the cupholder. as he pulls up across the street from the station, he sees ian standing on the curb, chatting with someone wearing a matching EMT uniform, a shorter man with tan skin and curly hair.

mickey honks once, a bit impatient since he's hungry as fuck and there's a large pizza he ordered earlier waiting for them at their apartment. ian lifts his head and smiles. as he waves goodbye to his coworker and jogs over to the van, mickey doesn't miss the way the dude is gaping at mickey with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

the hell is this guy's problem?

"everything okay?" mickey asks, once ian buckles his seatbelt and reclines his seat.

"just tired." ian yawns. "had a long shift today."

"well," mickey puts the van in drive, reaching over the center console to ruffle ian's hair, promptly forgetting ian's weird coworker, "i already ordered a pizza so we can eat then turn in early."

ian smiles sleepily and interlaces his fingers with mickey's. "you're the best husband ever."

mickey shakes his head, biting back a smile. "sappy fucker."

*

after almost two weeks of ian asking to be picked up, mickey suspects something is up. not that he minds or anything, since he makes his own schedule nowadays. after the security business started turning a profit and ian went back to being an emt, he hired a couple of guys to drive the routes so he could work from home and catch up on admin work, freeing up a lot of time in his day to day.

but ian never used to mind the commute. he's the kind of long-legged freak who liked to take the scenic route and go on long runs in the morning, just for fun. absolutely deranged behaviour, in mickey's opinion. but lately, ian has been flashing his kicked-puppy eyes and asking to be chauffeured like a pampered prince and, well. mickey could never resist spending more time with his husband, so he hasn't said anything. not yet, anyway. god he's so whipped.

the excuses ian came up with, however, were more unbelievable as it went on, ranging from the train broke down (mickey knew for a fact it didn't), to spraining his elbow (though he had no problem throwing mickey on the bed later that night with his supposedly injured arm), to how it was going to rain later (it was sunny all day without a cloud in sight).

when mickey tried to call him out on his bullshit, ian either got down on his knees or flipped mickey over and fucked him senseless into the bed, promptly making mickey forget what the hell he was trying to say.

it's gotten to the point where ian stopped making excuses and simply asked mickey to come get him. which truthfully, mickey doesn't mind at all. but he just finds it odd how his beefy athletic husband had gotten so lazy.

"what's with you?" mickey finally asks one day, as ian climbs into the passenger seat.

ian blinks innocently. "what do you mean, dear husband of mine?"

mickey rolls his eyes. "am i your husband or your fuckin' taxi driver? 'cause i've been picking your ass up every day for the past two weeks when you have two perfectly functioning legs."

ian huffs, crossing his arms. "maybe i just want to spend more time with you."

"we live together," mickey points out flatly, "how much more time do you need?"

"i–"

a tap on the glass interrupts them, and mickey turns to see a woman with brown hair tied back in a ponytail, enthusiastically gesturing at him to roll down the window.

"the fuck?" mickey turns to ian, whose face has turned slightly pink. "did you forget something at the station?"

"ah, no." ian scratches his head sheepishly. "sue is just being... sue."

sue waves her hand again and mickey reluctantly lowers the window.

"mickey, this is sue, my supervisor, and sue, this is–"

"the elusive husband." sue grins. "i've heard a lot about you, mickey."

mickey raises his brow. "have you now."

"oh sure," she says, ignoring ian's frantic head shaking, "ian won't shut up about you, yapping on and on about mickey this and mickey that. we're all jealous at the station actually, everyone just complains about their partners while ian keeps gushing about how perfect and amazing his husband is. his words."

"huh." that explains a lot, actually, why there was always someone different waiting with ian every time he came to pick him up, and why they all stared at him like a circus freak. "well, i bet ian didn't tell you the time we stole an ambu–"

"okay," ian cuts in loudly, reaching over to turn the key in the ignition, "we're leaving. i'll see you tomorrow, sue."

"come to the company picnic next month," sue calls out. "it's a potluck and everyone is bringing their family. it'll be fun!"

"uh sure," mickey says, even though a social gathering with ian's nosy coworkers sounds like the least fun thing he's ever heard of. he looks over at ian, slumped in his seat, avoiding mickey's eyes. "I'll check my schedule."

once mickey drives around the corner, he playfully flicks his finger at ian's temple and ian rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

"you yap about me to your coworkers," mickey teases. "you're so fuckin' whipped."

"whatever," ian grumbles. "stupid sue calling me out."

"is that why you keep asking me to pick you up?" mickey asks, amused. "to parade me around like a little show dog?"

"well, eduardo blabbed to everyone he saw you, then everyone kept asking about you and wanted to see you in person, so..."

"hm." mickey reaches over and brushes his thumb over ian's palm. "what do you say about me?"

ian links their fingers together and sighs. "that you're attentive. funny. caring. protective. loyal. the ideal man."

mickey laughs. "you're really overselling me here, gallagher. did you forget i'm an ex-convict, pimp and drug dealer?"

ian waves him off and continues. "kind. loving. perfect in every single way, except when you leave your socks on the floor. oh and that you're hot as hell with an ass that won't quit."

"you talked about my ass?"

"okay, i didn't say the last part," ian amends, "your ass belongs to just me. but i meant everything else i said."

"you really are a sappy fucker."

"you love it."

"i'd love it even more if i didn't have to be your chauffeur every day, at least they get paid to drive back and forth."

"you come with me to the picnic, i'll pay you with favours in bed. i'll even throw in a big tip."

"a big tip, huh..."

[haesunflower]

petty fights with zb1

genre: slight angst only for hyung line, most are lighthearted

pairing: reader (gn) x all members of zerobaseone

about/tags: what i think reader x zb1 would fight about

warning some have triggers (implied cheating, jealousy and injury), these are mostly lighthearted, not all are established relationship, bullet point reactions, all lowercase is intentional, not proofread, i should have just made this normal and not bullet, I'm lazy

⠀⠀ kim jiwoong ⠀⠀

you always thought you were secure in your relationship

a lot of people swooned over jiwoong but he's been good at reassuring you that you're the only person for him

but lately, he's been busy filming another drama with seobin

and they spend all their free time together, doing lives and filming vlogs for seobin's channel

while some of it is for pr, you know they're really good friends either way

he's a hell of a good actor, you think

because watching his chemistry with seobin, you start to think he's cheating on you

you hope he isn't, but when he comes home one day looking extremely exhausted and as if he just cried – you prayed that you would be wrong

jiwoong kneels in front of you, and has trouble looking you in the eyes

he keeps stuttering, and then just cries

⠀⠀ zhang hao ⠀⠀

when you first started dating, one of the things you worried about was how well hao would get along with your group of friends

they were kinda, well, loud and too much

and you know hao is quite introverted – it's one of the things you love about him. he's calm. you're crazy. that kinda thing.

when you're all together he's usually mostly silent but he engages in conversation. you had assumed that when you all mingle and have your own conversations he holds up on his own.

to your surpise, your best friend let you know that he hasn't made an effort to get to know her even after all these months

that made you mad

the air in the car ride home felt weird. you were at a stoplight when you accusingly said

"do you hate my friends?"

hao just looks at you, and begins to open his mouth but is distracted by the sudden green light

without giving him a chance to think, "hao i've made an effort to be good friends with your members"

hao thinks you're being unfair, because even his partner doesn't understand what it's like to be an introvert

but to some degree you're right, he doesn't try hard enough

unsure of what to say, he nods and continues to drive

you loudly sigh and direct your body towards your window. you know this will have to be a conversation for tomorrow.

⠀⠀ sung hanbin ⠀⠀

hanbin was taking longer than usual again today

you always meet up at the exit of building b of the university when you're both done with your classes, so you could go on a quick cafe date before the sun sets

it's been 30 minutes since he texted "on my way!"

fed up, you head over to his classroom to find him lending his notes to a girl. usually this isn't a problem, but it's who he's lending it to that irks you.

"baby, can we go?"

"oh hi y/n, yeah hold on somi's just finishing up with my notes"

thing is, somi likes your boyfriend, and your boyfriend doesn't see that.

you head over to their table and pick up hanbin's notebook, somi looks shocked she was disrupted

"i'll send you photos of the other pages when we get home"

you shove his notebook in your book bag and start walking away, not giving her an opportunity to respond

when hanbin catches up to your pace he reaches for your hand only for you to swat it away

"stop being so nice to everyone hanbin, they get the wrong idea"

hanbin wanted to defend himself, but he deprioritized that train of thought as he realized you are 100% the jealous type

⠀⠀ seok matthew ⠀⠀

matthew's main descriptor is that he's cute, because he is

but you didn't know that being called cute bothered your boyfriend

"am i not handsome to you?"

"babe, where is this coming from?"

he flashes his phone screen, your recent photoset post from your finsta on display. it featured various pictures of both of you from your dates the week before

the caption he pointed to: "i have the cutest boyfriend in the whole world"

so you deadass thought he was joking

but he really wasn't, he looked real serious -_-

you set the phone down and hugged him, placing your head on his chest

"of course i also think you're the hottest man on the planet"

"much better", matthew finally smiles and you both laugh as he tickles you in revenge

later that night, you posted a few of his gym thirst traps with the caption "my boyfriend is so handsome he should choke me"

his older sister commented: gross. block me next time.

⠀⠀ kim taerae ⠀⠀

so the "fight" started when he texted you that morning with

"y/n look at this, the fans are saying i dress terribly"

"....well"

"well?! well what??"

you ended up not replying because you didn't know how to word it

you loved taerae but those red sweats needed to go

so when you got another text that said "are you really not going to respond to me"

you hit him with a "let's just go shopping today"

even though you hated couple items, it was the only way for taerae to buy the items you wanted for him

he secretly bought a pair of red sweats for you

in the end, he beats the fashion taeraerist allegations (thanks to you)

⠀⠀ ricky ⠀⠀

ever since you started dating, you couldn't recall a time when you were able to pay for your dates

he beats you to it every time...and you feel terrible about it.

ricky extensively spoiled you, and all you wanted was to be given an opportunity to do the same for him

one day you asked him if you could pay for lunch this time around

"no. never. don't worry about stuff like that"

"let me do it just once, please?"

you didn't get your way, and you both walked out of the restaurant slightly annoyed

in fact, you refused to go on any date with him from that point unless you could pay for it

he deadass couldn't get you to come with him on any plan he made for a whole month.

eventually, he showed up at your place and said "fine. for every ten dates you can pay for one"

he wasn't happy with it but at least you were

⠀⠀ kim gyuvin ⠀⠀

gyuvin was the clumsiest person you know

so when he knocked over the vase and cut his hand in an attempt to clean it up, you couldn't help but scream at him in worry for his safety

"gyuvin what are you doing? you shouldn't have touched that!"

you quickly found the first aid kit that his mom kept underneath the bathroom sink

gyuvin had his head down as he applied pressure to the cut

he watched as you worked your way through the supplies

as you gently tended to his wound he tried not to make any sound

"sorry i yelled earlier. i just wish you were more careful. i don't like it when you get hurt"

he looked up to meet your eyes, you were tearing up

it was sorta clouding your vision, so you had to stop what you were doing

"i know y/n, i'm sorry. i'm working on it"

he leaned his head against yours

⠀⠀ park gunwook ⠀⠀

you're both in debate. and you strongly dislike going up against him because 98% of the time you lose.

he likes to win and then gloat about it later

"how's it like to lose for the 3rd time in a row?" (jokingly, you think)

(because you have an inclination that he might have a massive crush on you) (you are correct)

academic rivals to lovers, if you will

when you finally started dating he stopped gloating at least

that doesn't mean he goes easy on you, he tries to give his one hundred percent because so do you

sometimes mid debate he'd catch himself staring at you and get a little distracted

your losing rate has since decreased to about 70% now (thank you puppy gunwook!)

⠀⠀ han yujin ⠀⠀

yujin had issues with sharing way before you started liking each other

maybe it's because he has younger siblings and basically had to share everything with them all his life

so when he shows up to school with a fully packed lunch and extra snacks, and you dare to come up to ask for the pack of pretzels he had, he was hesitant

you did this every monday without fail and he started to get fed up with it

"get your own food will you?"

"i would but it tastes better when it comes from you" you say as you plop down next to him at the courtyard

boy was gobsmacked. from that moment on he was kinda smitten.

i don't know how either that's just how his brain works

from then on, he only shared his snacks with you

except for that one time yena from the upper year said "oh that looks good, can i have some yujinie?" and he gave the whole bag to her.

yeah you guessed it, your pretzel bag.

you were furious

he didn't understand why until you made a snide remark at the end of the day - something along the lines of "yeah you're only nice to older girls"

he bought the giant xl version of the pretzels to school the next day as a sorry

A/N: my friend alexis helped me out with the ideas per member. personally tried to be angsty but most ended up being lighthearted lol. requests are open and you can claim anons too if you'd like hehe

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 General’s Day Off

♡ featuring: jing yuan x f!reader

♡ summary: the general has been stressed as of late. a day of relaxation is what he needs. wc: 2.8k+

♡ cw/tw: non-sexual nudity, fluff!

notes: whew I've been waiting to do some jing yuan fluff for a while my lil smoochie. the next one is gonna be so long oof but I can't wait. art by ArtRobiins on twitter :) <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

The dozing general hadn’t had a moment of peace since Phantylia’s invasion. The Xianzhou Luofu was still recovering from betrayal, and its people were on edge ever since. Jing Yuan wouldn’t admit his weaknesses, but the welfare of his people weighed on his consciousness greatly. It bled through his ghostly skin and sinking eyebags stretching at the tired corners. The threat of another disruption loomed, and so he obsessively prepared for the untold attack. He busied himself with preventative measures, documents upon documents stacked on his desk. Yanqing had never seen him behave so adamantly, so sure of some eventual calamity. Though his demeanor reflected that of a lazy, carefree man, his heavy heart and soul bore the curse of immense grief. He needed to portray a headstrong and unwavering strength, otherwise the reality of his situation would be too apparent to the Luofu. His close friends were lost to the unpredictable winding ties of fate; he couldn’t stand to mourn another. Especially with you around. 

If you and Yanqing weren’t by his side, he would be undoubtedly consumed by sorrow. Your warm smile on the mild sunrise planted a blossoming light in that dimming core. Patience was a virtue when it came to his stubbornness; you could tell he was unwell, but whenever you voiced your concerns, he aimed to ease your worries with fleeting promises of rest. He would sooner die than see tears in your eyes at his affliction. Bailu was overseeing his recovery, until he proclaimed a sudden influx of health, and steadied his posture as if it was as spry as before. Yanqing attempted to keep him in her care, but he was forced to watch Jing Yuan push himself beyond inherent limitations. 

Mornings on the Luofu are always quiet. It gets hectic during the afternoon, so you take the opportunity to do some calming activities. Jing Yuan was already gone before you woke; he hadn’t been getting much sleep lately. You stir the dark bitter substance in your cup and stare out at the endless blue, pondering how you fell in love with such an obdurate man. That is, before you glimpse his half naked body dreaming, shadowed by the snowy curls spilling down his back in your memory. You can’t help but smile. 

You receive a knock at the door, and rush to answer it. These days, news about Jing Yuan and another injury shaded your mind. You open the door, and it’s Yanqing, at attention as if he’s facing the general. 

“Good morning, ma’am, I have something to report” he says, straight and dutiful. You giggle at his professionalism, and a tinge of pink grazes his ears. “It is a good morning. You know you don’t have to be so formal with me, Yanqing.” He drops the soldier-like pose and sighs with a slouch. “I know, ma’am. But I really need to talk to you.” You invite him to come inside, and you both sit at the dining table quietly. You notice him shifting uncomfortably in the chair, a far stare in his contemplation. 

“Did you eat? I can make something.” He cuts back to reality from the broken silence. “Ah! No thank you, I ate already” he stammers. You offer your most welcoming smile. “What would you like to discuss, Yanqing?” 

“It’s...about General Jing. I’m really worried about him. He spends a lot of time working now. I’ve tried to get him to relax once and a while but he’s always up and out the door. I can’t get in contact with him for hours. And he’s so tired! Sometimes when I look over his shoulder, the things he’s writing are nonsense!” You allow him to continue, it seems that Yanqing became more relieved with honesty for each grievance he admitted to. “He struggles to hide it, but I see him grab his side in pain whenever he stands...I don’t know what to do. So, I wanted to tell you.” Your head is propped by your hand, taking in all the information you suspected was occurring. Perhaps you should’ve strapped him to a hospital bed for eternity. You click your tongue in annoyance, Jing Yuan is truly a gorgeous handful. 

“I knew it.” 

“Oh, you did?” 

“A sneaky suspicion, I guess.” 

“I can’t get through to him.” You let out a dejected chuckle. “Me neither. He’s really the worst, stressing us out like this.” Yanqing subconsciously nods his head, fumbling with his thumbs. “I never thought you’d help me go against the general” you tease.  

“N-no! I’m just trying to help him recover, is all!” he splutters, waving his hands over his face. “I’m kidding. I know you care about him. I do, too. I love him more than anything in this universe.”  

Your mind replays every kind gesture; the fresh bouquet of flowers he got you every few days, sharing unending stories that kept you awake at night while you both gazed at the stars, his tendency to be horrible at games that weren’t chess, and the warm hug enveloping you just as you dozed off in his arms. You endured to be strong for him up until this point, but bittersweet longing pierces your thoughts. The truth spills down your cheeks. 

“Oh no, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-” 

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. If you’re willing to help, could you do me a favor?” you whisper, wiping the persistent staining tears. Yanqing stands at attention as if he’s accepted a life-or-death mission. “Of course.” 

“Please make sure his schedule is clear tomorrow.” 

You aren’t sure if your plan will convince him to stay home, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. Unfortunately, he didn’t come home as you expected. You slept intermittently. By the time you woke, the sun was just rising, casting a rose-colored gradient across the sky. Still nowhere to be found. 

Click. The door creaks open. Jing Yuan stealthily moves his hand behind it and tiptoes past the welcome mat. The screech makes him pause briefly, before sliding against the wall to get past the snitching door. Right as he closes it, he whips around, only to see your figure swaddled in a quilt waiting for him on the couch. Too tired to react, he flashes a weak smirk, and sets his scroll on the table. His shirt is wrinkled and turned a dirty beige, most likely from fighting, with the collar undone. Truthfully, he was elated to see you after hardly being home for weeks. You made the blood and bruising worth it—it ensured your life and protection. 

“Oh? What’s this?” You make grabbing motions with both hands, reaching out to him from your spot. “You ordered a general?” he jests. You unfold the plush quilt and beckon him to your embrace. “Mhm. Come here, honey.” Be it lack of sleep or resolve, your body looks too comfortable in this moment, and he falls to temptation. Kicking off his boots, he quickly strides towards you and dives in your arms. He’s extremely heavy, nearly twice your size and probably the fluffiest weighted blanket you’ve ever felt. He melts in your hold. The buckles from his waist prickle your soft flesh, but the vibration of his breath soothing in your ear makes you forget. You rub the firm muscle of his back with one hand, it’s taut and anxious. You untie the red bow and tangle your other hand through the puffs of marshmallows between your fingers.  

“Your delivery is here” he mumbles. 

“Finally, I’ve been waiting for it for sooo long.” 

“My apologies. I got caught up at work.” 

“I’m sure.” You pull his hair back to gaze at his jagged features, those dark ringed orbs filled with amber. “Do you want me to have a heart attack wondering when you’ll come home?” 

“If that were to happen, I’d jump in the coffin right after you, my dear.” You pinch his nose, and he laughs. “However, I must return soon.” His voice sounds flat, defeated. You go back to stroking his hair. “No. You have the day off.” 

“Really? And who arranged that?” 

“Yanqing. He told me about your...reluctance to relax.” Jing Yuan half rolls his eyes, but never moves to leave your warmth. “That boy, he’s nervous over nothing.” You poke his side to test the pain and watch him instantly wince. He sighs deeply at your irritated expression. 

“(Y/N), I can’t just stop over a feeble injury.” 

“You took a spear in the chest, and nearly died. I wouldn't call that a feeble injury.” 

“The Luofu needs me.” 

“I need you.” He surveys your upset expression. Did he ever stop to consider your feelings, how despondent he’d made you from reckless habits? He deemed himself fortunate that you chose to stay. He gently pecks your temple. 

“You’re right. I won’t go anywhere.” Your face lights up, and you wrap your legs around him tighter. “Good, you’ll enjoy yourself. I have something planned.” 

You start preparing your plan, arranging the master bathroom to a calming variety of aromatic trimmings and sheer drapes hanging just above the tub. Jing Yuan didn’t know what constitutes a spa day, and so you briefly described it as a “day of relaxation”. You didn’t want to ruin the whole surprise. When you get back to the living room, you have a pen and paper with scribbles on it. 

“Mr. Yuan?” you say, pretending that his name is somewhere on the unwritten list. He grins and plays along. “Are you here for the spa package?” 

“Yes, I am. I didn’t know the receptionist was so breathtaking” he teases. He always knew how to fluster you. You do some fake calculations and nod to yourself, ignoring the hands wandering on your body. “For everything your total comes out to…3 kisses.”  

Jing Yuan cradles your face with calloused hands. “Hmm, that's quite expensive, but I think I can manage.” Pressing a soft kiss to your awaiting lips that lasts too long between breaths. It feels desperate, like you’ll float away if he lets you go. You part for air and place your finger over his mouth. “Payment accepted. Right this way.” He kisses your finger, and you guide him to the bathroom. You nudge him inside, and immediately the aroma of vanilla and perfumed petals escapes from the steaming shower. It was spotless and arranged similar to an exotic getaway. “Please undress and get comfortable. I’ll join you inside shortly.” He nods and starts undressing. You gather everything you need and head inside. 

He’s sitting on a stool under the rainfall showerhead, scrubbing down his body. The water bounces off his admittedly neglected hair, and he turns so that the heat doesn’t creep into his wound. You hadn’t realized showering was painful for him. You follow him into the shower. “May I?” you ask, motioning for the semi wet loofa in his hand.  

“Be my guest.” His knees support his elbows, and you kneel behind him to massage mild soap into the sudsing loofa. His scars are much more apparent now, healed but carved roughly on the war-torn muscle. You delicately lather the product across and down his mole dotted back, gingerly kisses littering his shoulder blades. You spread the soap to his sternum and stomach, and you feel his tense form caving to your touch. Jing couldn’t recall receiving affection of this caliber, and so it was nice to be pampered, to feel you closer than he’d ever imagined. It was as if you two were the only people existing in this moment, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.  

After he’s properly washed, you expose his skin to the dew and allow it to run down his back, making sure to block the scar from further distress. You stand and grab the shampoo bottle, squirting an ample glob in your palm. You plop it onto his scalp, and begin working it through his thick mane. Your nails massaging and manipulating the sensitive skin makes him nearly drool. It’s as though you’re shaping his brain, and hums of approval rumble up your hands. He leans back on your stomach and enjoys your digits frothing substance. You almost see a ghostly tail wagging violently at each caress. When you pull his bangs back to wipe his hairline, you gaze at his face, a content smile prodding the crinkling corners of his mouth. “Are you falling asleep?” you whisper, washing away the soap from his forehead and roots. He groans in response and snuggles his head under your breasts. The sounds of serene rain beading the floor echoes in the humid foggy space, and the sweet scent of citrus conditioner crowds your nose. You squeeze out the remaining water. His eyes ajar from infinite slumber once your hands leave his cleansed scalp. You turn off the shower and escort him to the tub. An iridescent blue sparkling liquid stills in the marble stone, complete with botanical flora bobbing aimlessly.  

“There’s more? You’re spoiling me.” He soaks in the room temperature tub, unwinding above bath salt gradually dissolving. You undoubtedly added a concerning amount of eucalyptus and lavender to the water, hoping it would miraculously restore him instantly. Positioning the stool behind him, you pull his hair back with a headband and start to mix a face mask in a small wooden bowl. His head lays in your lap, watching you diligently combine cream with medicinal powders and clay.  You brush the blend over his face and neck, cool to the touch. 

“Feels nice.” he breathes. “Doesn’t it? It’s made with-” you go on a passionate tangent about the ingredients included, he simply stares at you, the twinkle in your eyes while you trace his cheekbones. What did I do to deserve someone so kind and selfless, constantly seeking out my well-being and nurture- 

“Are you even listening?” you accuse. He snaps out of the trance, and nods unconvincingly. 

“I was.” 

“What did I say then?” 

“Mm, something something, your beautiful eyes and lips, I want to kiss them.” he drawls. You grunt disapprovingly, and place thin slices of cucumbers over his eyes. “No looking until it's over.” He pouts like an unruly child. You snicker and scoop a chunky clump of brown sugar scrub between your palms, rubbing together to coax warmth. Kneading the grains along his robust biceps and torso in wide circles, you’re sure you heard snoring at some point. Your hands unrolled a dull ache, and you wanted to stop, but his chest heaving deeply in relaxation pushed you to continue. You ladle water over the sugar and face mask, rubbing it dispersed. With a pristine face, you pat serum and moisturizer into the skin and admire the glowing haleness slowly returning. He sits up, freeing his eyes and gazes at you. 

“How do you feel?” 

“I always feel good whenever you’re around, my love” he flirts. You huff and drain the water. “You should dry off. I’m gonna give you a massage.” He steps out the tub to dry but attempts to follow you out of the room. You turn and he’s right behind you, his massive presence covering your silhouette. “Jing, I’m getting stuff ready. Can you wait here?” He says nothing and embraces your nude figure, nuzzled in your hair. You grab his arms, prying room to look up at his hiding face. You’re shocked to see tears brimming in his eyes threatening to overturn. You wipe them as they fall; somehow, he’s still grinning. He couldn’t register why he was crying yet. “Are you okay-” 

“I missed you greatly.” he murmurs. You kiss his nose and pillow his shaking arms and legs. Dispelling the fears and insecurities that strangle him to a gasp. It’s easier to breathe. "I missed you, too.” He picks you up bridal style, and you yelp. 

“Wait, but the massage” you contest. He walks to the bedroom, swaying you without a care in sight. “That won’t be necessary. I just want to hold you.” He lays you on your back and climbs over you. Despite all the space on your king sized bed, he intertwines your bareness with the velvety sheets, and locks you in his arms. His cuddles are cushiony and pure, cocooned like a life-sized teddy bear. You had numerous things planned today—you'd make him dinner, cater to him, watch a movie—now that you’re snuggled cozily, you couldn’t envision leaving this bed. “I didn’t get-” you yawn lengthily “-everything done.” 

“You've done more than enough. It’s time I take care of you.” He kisses your forehead, and your eyelids feel dense as they ultimately come to a close. He wished your eyes would remain open, he wanted to stare into them for as long as possible. “Truly, thank you, (Y/N). I needed this.”  

He listens to your soft breathing, your heartbeat pounding methodically against his. “I love you. So much” you say in trailing hushed tones before drifting to a distant dream. Maybe you’d dream about him, somewhere on a different planet with your children, spending forever together. For now, things are just as they were before.

“I love you more.” 

[eggluverz]

THE GENERAL NEEDS A BREAK… AND A MOONCAKE

PAIRING. jing yuan x gn!reader

SUMMARY. the general is drowning in work, and the mid-autumn festival is the perfect excuse to take a break.

SOF'S NOTE. i know it's late but i wanted to get this out still hehe hope you still enjoy the moon festival cuteness even though i missed it xD i've been in a jing yuan mood lately ngl i just wanna cuddle and have a lazy day with him :> pls enjoy!!

You knew autumn was in the air as you walked down the streets of the Exalting Sanctum with a bag of fried songlotus roots from a nearby vendor. The trees carefully scattered throughout the streets were now vibrant shades of orange and yellow; you could feel the crisp wind blowing around you. 

And while you were able to enjoy your time outside work, visiting the bustling Mid-Autumn Fesitval in Aurum Alley, you knew the general was not. 

In fact, you hadn’t seen your partner in days now because of how busy he has been lately. You weren’t even sure if he managed to escape work within the past week. 

With a sigh, you sadly munched on another songlotus root. That simply wouldn’t do. 

You understood Jing Yuan was busy trying to keep the Preceptors out of his hair while dealing with the threat of the Stellaron on the Xianzhou. And while you knew how important it was, you also knew Jing Yuan could delegate some of his tasks. He could free up just a bit of time to enjoy the festival before it came to an end for the year. 

As you approached the Seat of Divine Foresight, you were determined to accomplish just that— Get the general to come along and explore Aurum Alley with you. 

“How are you doing, General?” you drawled, walking over to his desk and peeking behind his stacks of papers. 

He blinked blearily before a small smile formed on his face at the sight of you. “Why, I’m having the time of my life. And you?” 

You went around to his seat and gave him a brief kiss in greeting. Your hand cupped his cheek as you smoothed the dark circles under his eyes. Jing Yuan sighed and leaned into you touch.

“I’m doing well,” you said. “Would be better if you could attend the festival with me.”

He chuckled at that. 

“I know you must be having so much fun working, but I promise I can make your Mid-Autumn Festival experience even better than this,” you sang, plucking the pen from his hands and placing it flat on his desk. 

“You certainly drive a tempting offer.”

“Then accept.” 

“Perhaps I will.”

You cheered as he laughed, setting his papers aside and standing up follow you out. Like the gentleman he was, Jing Yuan extended his hand out for you to hold. You accepted graciously and the two of you walked hand-in-hand out of his office and to Aurum Alley.

It was a long walk, but time always felt short with Jing Yuan. Minutes passed by too quickly and you found yourself always wanting to spend more time with him. 

Night had come by the time you arrived in Aurum Alley, and you had just made it in time to see the lanterns lighting up the sky. The warm, twinkling lights of the lanterns lit up the dark night, planting a seed of awe in you as you watched the festivities happily. You felt a stare pointed in your direction and you knew it was Jing Yuan looking at you in admiration.

You turned back to him and tapped his chin upwards. “You should be ogling at the lanterns, not me!” 

“Can a man not do both?” 

With a giggle, you rested your head against his chest. He was warm and inviting, and you were glad he could escape his life as the general for just a little bit to enjoy this scenery with you.

“Have you tried Tall Auntie’s mooncakes this year?” you asked, feeling your stomach grumble as you took in the delicious scents around you. “I swear, it tastes even better than before!” 

“I have not.” Jing Yuan shook his head, tucking your hand back into the safety of his own. “Shall we go?”

You nodded and skipped along, excited to have another one of her mooncakes. While mooncakes could be found everywhere, in all parts of the galaxy, Tall Auntie added the Luofu touch. The filling had a mixture of red bean paste and custard made from puffergoat milk— You almost drooled at the thought. 

Noticing the dreamy look on your face, Jing Yuan laughed. He wiped the corner of your lip, eyes bright with amusement. “You have something here.” 

So, perhaps you did drool at the thought. 

Smiling sheepishly, you wiped at your mouth. “I suppose I’m craving it now. You’ll love it too, trust me.”

“I’m certain I will.” 

As the two of your approached Tall Auntie’s food stall, you ordered two specialty mooncakes and found a secluded area to munch on them. There was a bench surrounded by trees and buildings, with a view of the lanterns growing smaller and smaller in the sky, and you thought it was a perfect place to enjoy your snack. 

“What do you think?” you said, eagerly watching him take the first bite. 

Jing Yuan closed his eyes in contentment, leaning back against the wall. For a moment, he said nothing. He simply chewed, savoring each flavor as it hit his tongue. When he swallowed, he opened his eyes and nodded at you. “Delicious.”

You beamed and he ruffled the top of your head. 

“It’s just what I needed after a long week of work.” 

“You deserve it,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Even the hardworking general deserves a break.” You took a bite of your pastry and hummed in contentment. “And a mooncake.” 

Jing Yuan nodded in agreement, shutting his eyes and allowing his heavy body to relax into your touch. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Anytime. And after, we’re going straight home and sleeping in bed.”

His eyes opened at that, a teasing crinkle on his nose. “I propose we partake in some other activities in bed before we sleep tonight.” 

You laughed at his boldness, glancing around to make sure no one else heard. “Jing Yuan!” 

“My love,” he replied. 

The warmth in your heart grew as you snuggled against him once more. “Okay, but only if you get me another mooncake first.”

“You have a deal.” 

[yoonmeowzz]

nct 127 ! being domestic

contents: nct 127 members x gn!reader, fluff, slice of life, established relationship, non idol au, use of pet names (babe, darling)

warnings: mentions of food (taeil and taeyong)

a/n: i've been thinking A LOT about johnny and mark and this kind of stuff so... yeah

⠀ ⠀⠀

johnny

even if people don't believe him, he's 6ft tall, so obviously he can reach every high place in the house. he enjoys seeing you trying to get things from the highest shelves but when you decide to give up and look for him, without saying a word he gets up and helps you getting what you wanted. he then feels his chest filled with this warm feeling he can’t explain, he just loves to help you, be there for you when you need him. he usually stays in the kitchen while you’re cooking, even if you told him to rest, just to get things for you.

“johnny…” he looked up from his phone and immediately went to take the bowl you needed.

“there you go, babe”

⠀ ⠀⠀

taeyong

taeyong appreciates every second he spends with you but late night talking is definitely his favorite thing to do with you. some days, he takes some snacks and drinks sneakily from the kitchen before going back to his room, where you are waiting for him with a smile. however, most of the time it’s just you and him hugging each other or simply lying next to each other while you talk about whatever crosses your mind.

“did you know that there was a greek stuttering orator? he’d practice hard every day to be able to speak in public without stuttering.”

“stop, y/n, i’m gonna get emotional”

⠀ ⠀⠀

yuta

on lazy days when neither of you have enough energy to do anything, he asks you to spend the day in bed. you accept without a doubt. y’all just cuddle for a while, maybe he takes a little nap while you’re on your phone. but his favorite part is lying down on your tummy and having your hands playing with his hair. he LOVES the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp, gently twisting each hair strand. eventually he falls asleep to your slow breathing as the only background noise and once he wakes up he’s all clingy and lovely.

“did i already told you how much i love you?”

“you did, yuta, and i love you too. so much”

“i love you more, darling”

⠀ ⠀⠀

doyoung

activities with doyoung are always aesthetically pleasant, so cute coffee dates at home with homemade coffee are something usual now. he takes his time making your coffee look great so you can take pictures to remember this sweet moments with him when you’re away. after having your cups ready y’all just cuddle on the couch covered in cozy blankets and watch a movie or talk about nothing in particular.

“you said you wanted to try caramel macchiato so i tried to make it. if it tastes bad i can give you my cup”

“thank you so much, doyoung”

⠀ ⠀⠀

jaehyun

this man’s music taste is immaculate. you usually spend your lazy time together listening to music together while cuddling on his bed. you’re lying on top of him, your head resting on his chest as you listen to his calm heartbeat and flash by cigarettes after sex at the background. with his hands stroking your back slowly up and down you start dozing off, his arms secured around you.

“sleep tight, y/n” you hear him whisper over the music before finally falling asleep.

⠀ ⠀⠀

jungwoo

he’s kinda a clean freak so you try to keep things neat. however, he doesn’t mind if you leave the living room or bathroom messy cause he prefers cleaning together on weekends since he has lots of fun spending time with you, no matter what y’all are doing. if you’re tiding your shared bedroom he’s going to try on every piece of clothing he finds. sooner or later, your cleaning session becomes a fashion runway.

“check this hoodie, y/n!! do i look good?”

“you look amazing!!”

⠀ ⠀⠀

mark

messy hair mark, wearing his glasses and pajamas should be illegal cause he’s going to be the death of me. when he’s not busy he likes to spend his mornings with you, especially playing the guitar for you. you’re both sitting on his bed, he just plays some accords until you decide what song you want him to play. it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t know that particular song, he’d learn it for you. and when he starts singing ever so softly… i’m combusting

“i just wanna live in this moment forever…”

⠀ ⠀⠀

haechan

when he’s free from work he spends his time playing video games. but there’s something about playing mario kart with you that feels different. it may sound stupid, but competing with you or making silly bets like “the loser has to give the winner a kiss” is something really intimate and special for him. he usually is very competitive, but this time he doesn’t mind losing, having you by his side is already a win.

“if you win the tournament i’ll do everything you ask me for a week”

“and if i lose?” you raised an eyebrow.

“you have to love me forever”

⠀ ⠀⠀

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 71 (Back to the Brindleton Light)

NOTE: I'm taking a posting break until the 16th for Canadian Thanksgiving since I'll be spending time with family. Still planning to read and comment but might be spotty, and after that I've got posts queued every other day until November.

The every day schedule is too much for the length of my posts, I see that now (both for readers and for me!) and I want more time to read simblr stuff I haven't been able to thanks to my current output! I like where we leave them with this one, and I like even more what's queued up for the 16th, so it feels like a good time to pause the plot.

Conrad hadn't shaken his belief that someone - maybe a ghost, maybe not - was using the Brindleton Light as a home. The station was always taking reports from locals about strange sounds at the lighthouse, but most of the other detectives dismissed them all as overhyped ghost stories.

cw: skivvies I didn't realize we're sorta, um, thin. Sorry! They love that lighthouse what can I say?! 😂🌶️

He'd engrossed himself in the The Green Lady's Lost Tome since their meeting with Grim, reading it whenever he had free time at home.

With Ash in the city few months after Hazel and Nicola's wedding, Conrad invited Heather to join him and Gord on Deadgrass Isle after she'd finished her monthly accounting. He hadn't forgotten the old man and his offer to show Conrad around the lighthouse after hours, but they made a quick circle through the museum and didn't see him. "He must not be working tonight, but I still want to check the lighthouse."

Heather followed him up the dirt path from the museum to the point, where white paint peeled off the old gatehouse at the base of the tower. Curious, he picked up a candy wrapper and showed it to Heather and Gord.

"Anyone could have dropped that," said Heather. "A candy wrapper isn't proof that someone's living in here."

But the light inside the gatehouse flickered on again as she spoke. "Stand back here," said Conrad before he knocked.

"Shouldn't you wait for backup?" she asked. "What if they're dangerous?"

A blond figure in a jacket raced into view. "He climbed out that window!" cried Conrad. "Stop right there!" The man hesitated enough for Gord to catch up with him.

He cowered, and Conrad approached him carefully. "It's alright," he said. "I just want to talk."

"Screw you!" the man shouted, tackling Conrad as he reached for his badge. He never liked to carry his gun around when he wasn't on duty, and with everything he'd experienced lately, he sincerely expected a ghost, at most - not a squatter. Conrad fought him under the shadow of the lighthouse, as Heather watched helplessly from several feet away.

"Be careful!" she screamed. But Conrad was stronger than his target and subdued him without much trouble. The blond man whimpered, holding his face with a grimace.

"Why don't you start your story by telling me your name."

"John Brindleton. My ancestors founded this town, and I'm the last of my stupid name. I moved into the lighthouse after my family kicked me out. Said I was lazy and needed to make something of myself. But they wanted me to join one of the fishing boats and I...I hate fish!"

"So you thought you'd just live in an old dusty lighthouse until...?"

"Until I figured out a way to override the electrical and shut off the lighthouse. If there's no lighthouse the boats can't come in late. And if boats can't come in late, I can kill the fishing industry in this town. Then I'll never have to work it!"

Conrad offered a pitiful sigh to the wannabe criminal. "So you weren't just squatting, you were plotting destruction? I thought I'd be able to get through your criminal report on Monday morning in about five minutes, but now you're a felon."

"No! I mean! I just wanted to take revenge on the other boats who put my dad's fleet out of business! He'd be too busy working to worry about me if not for them."

Conrad clucked his tongue in disapproval. "Well, now you can think about your failed attempt at revenge from a cell."

"I'm not going to jail!" cried the man, racing down the path toward the museum. Conrad took off after him, with Heather and Gord following close behind.

With the man subdued on the ground, they waited for the Brindleton PD speedboat to pick up the perp, handing him off to the weekend patrol crew to process the late-night booking. "Give him a weekend in the cells and make sure he talks to a lawyer."

The patrol crew gave their senior detective respectful nods, and Conrad watched the boat speed back to the mainland as Heather wrapped her arms around him.

Even with a cool drizzle in the skies, they both wanted to feel the breeze from the tower, to calm their nerves at the observation deck. The lighthouse was cordoned off with police tape, so they knew they were alone.

"You were kind of incredible down there," Heather gushed with a coquettish grin. "You were right. Someone was in the lighthouse the whole time...But they're gone now. Is the observation deck part of the crime scene?"

"No, he said got electrocuted by the fuse box once and thought it smelled like wet dog up here."

"It's a little dusty, but it's not that bad."

Conrad grinned as Heather's hand slid gently down his back. "Ms. Nesbitt, are you trying to seduce me?"

She smiled. Returning to the electrical room, they made love over the dingy old blankets - untouched since their last visit - until both were completely satisfied.

When they'd finished, Heather nuzzled against his shoulder in the dark old lighthouse. "We've really got to stop doing this here," she said. "After how hard I pushed to end the free love action plan in town, if anyone caught us up here...And really, should a man as close as you are to making sargeant be found with his pants off inside the lighthouse?"

Conrad let out a playful groan. "Your logic is sound, but I don't have to like it," he said, pulling her in for one last embrace before they moved to get dressed again.

Conrad watched Heather's silhouette in the quiet darkness. "You're the most beautiful woman in the world," he said. Heather blushed.

Arf!

They both looked toward the sound, like it had come from inside the room. "You heard that this time?"

She nodded. "I heard it. That's definitely not Gord. Do you think it's a stray? Maybe that weird squatter had a dog?"

"The squad checked over the place and didn't find anything. I think that's the old lightkeeper's dog."

"All the strays in Brindleton Bay and you're sure it's a ghost?"

He knew it sounded ridiculous. "Maybe not," he sighed. "I want to talk to that old man the next time he's working."

"The one you said reminded you a little of your dad? What's his name?" She pulled out her phone to look him up.

Conrad searched his memory but came up short. "I didn't ask. I had a lot on my mind the night we met..."

"Maybe he was a ghost, too," she teased after they'd finally dressed, but Conrad stopped in his tracks down the lighthouse stairs. "I was kidding! I'm sure he doesn't work every night. But I'll make you ambrosia treats to bring next time you bring Gord to run around. If the barking dog is really a ghost, maybe the treats will coax him out, finally."

Joke or not, Conrad's curiosity over the mysteries of Deadgrass Isle had hardly been sated by the evening's events. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: Gord is an adventurous dog and that unlocks these little CYO-adventures that are fun and cute but have no graphics. So this was my attempt to semi re-dramatize one of the adventures at the lighthouse where they catch a vengeful squatter, while ALSO trying to conceive a baby in a lighthouse to get a very specific 'lighthouse baby' moodlet if their kid ever comes back to the Brindleton Light. Heather does love to woohoo in inappropriate places (alleys, friends' couches, observatories...), but if you're thinking 'too clean, too weird, why didn't Conrad go to the station with the perp?' just ride the wave of trying to get those weird little gameplay bonuses with me lol.

[caeunot]

can you do johnnie guilbert comforting f!reader (his gf) with s/h relapse. if not no worries, i’ve just been struggling lately and your writing helps me.

thank you for the request ♡

and I'm so sorry that you haven't been well, it makes me so happy that my writing is able to do that! I hope this fic can do your request justice and that it can help even if just a little.

johnnie guilbert x reader

➷ you felt sweaty, it was at least 34°c outside and you had a sweater on. you did this for a reason though, recently things have been harder on you. it feels as if everyone and everything is against you and that the world is completely caving in, you contemplated bringing it up to your boyfriend but many things were stopping you.

the first being he has his own shit to deal with, about two months ago he blew up completely on tiktok causing him to be a lot more busy recently. the second being that he deals with his own mental health too and you didn't want to be a burden, you obviously aren't but your mind kept telling you that you are. it's exhausting to be fighting against yourself constantly but by this point you have sadly come accustomed to it.

you were walking towards the bathroom to do your makeup when you felt arms slide around your waist, "hey baby I haven't seen you all day" you smiled and turned around, "I've been kinda lazy today I'm only doing my makeup now at 2 pm". "nothing wrong with that" he says as he gives you a kiss.

"hey it's boiling outside, maybe you should take off your sweater" he says tugging onto it slightly. "I'm fine really" you say trying to push out a smile, you could tell it came out fake. "come on you can't possibly feel cold" he says starting to get concerned.

after some silence he takes your hand and leads you into your shared bedroom, "darling, if there's anything you want to say you can tell me". "I'm fine really! I promise".

"then can you take off the sweater please?" he says with a tone much more gentle than usual. you hesitated but can't bare to lie to him anymore. as you take it off it exposed fresh cuts all along the top of your arm. he stares at it for a moment before leaning in for a hug.

no words in that moment were necessary, just that action of the hug was enough to prove to you that he cares. he immediately went and took the first aid kit you guys kept for emergencies, he sat you down in the bathroom and cleaned up the open wounds and then wrapped it in medical cloth. after he finished he gave a soft kiss on your forehead.

"never feel too embarrassed or too shy to come to me about this okay? I'm your boyfriend I'll take care of you no matter what" he took your hand in his "please promise me you will try to be more open about this in the future, it's nothing to be ashamed of okay? I'll always be here for you. I love you more than life itself I don't know what I would do if something happend to you"

you found yourself opening up to him about all that you are going through and he gave you his full undivided attention for hours, afterwards he ordered you food and cuddled you on the couch till you fell asleep in his arms, you have never felt safer.

❣

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Seven Days to Fall Again | Friday | Jeon Jungkook

Inspired by the MV "Seven" by Jung Kook ft. Latto (obvi lol) Summary:Caught in the rain, trying to get to you. You tried to go out to clear your head but he wants to make sure you know he's always looking out for you. Pairing: Reader x Jungkook (almost exes to lovers lol) Word Count: 4.3k (longest chapter so far lol) Warnings: Smut (too lazy to add specifics lol), Explicit language that's it lol a/n: Hey guys so uh...got a little carried away with this one but I said this a little while ago but Friday really didn't have much of a plot in the mv so I kinda just went with whatever felt right. I hope you like it! Let me know what you think! p.s. barely edited and written in one sitting but I figured I might as well post it lol Start from the beginning

I'm going out tonight, nothing major or anything I just wanted to go out so I can get him off my mind even if it's only for a few hours.

Walking into the restaurant I'm greeted with a big group of my colleagues and I slide in next to one of the girls while I greet everyone. A couple of minutes later we all settle back into our own separate conversations with one of the many not so comfortable ones about to start. 

"You look like shit" Kayla whispers to me. She's my best friend so I'm used to her being this honest but it still comes as a surprise sometimes. "Thanks Kay" I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes at her before taking a sip of water. 

"No but for real what's wrong? You've been ignoring me for the past few days and then suddenly you're inviting everyone out like nothings happened?" she questions, knowing that something's up. "What's wrong with inviting people out? I'm sorry I haven't been answering you, I've have a busy couple of days" I say, not necessarily lying but knowing that I had the time to respond to her if I wanted to. 

I decided to just take what I had hoped for was a step back for a second to just do me but then I ended up dealing with Jungkook chasing me around instead so everything else just seemed like it was too much. "Whatever" Kayla says taking a sip of her beer, knowing I'm lying but deciding not to push it. If it were just the two of us I know she would shake me until I spit it out but she knows better than to do that in front of everyone. 

"So y/n, how are things going? We thought that Jungkook would've come with you" one of the girls at the other end of the table says with her boyfriend right next to her nodding in agreement. "Oh he had to work late" I say giving a simple excuse hoping they'll drop it and luckily they do. Before we're able to move on though my eyes widen in horror as I see the devil himself walking into the restaurant and look around until he spots me, giving me a soft smile with an unreadable expression. 

"Hey guys" Jungkook says awkwardly but comes up to sit next to me and gives me a kiss on the cheek to make things seem normal, being able to tell from my body language alone that I haven't told anyone about the breakup yet. 

"Hi Noona" he whispers in my ear making me shiver. I scold myself for letting my body betray me but I can't really do much to change it anymore. I pull away from him and take another drink of water trying to cover up things but I can tell from the slight smile on his face he know he's still got a hold on me. 

"Oh Jungkook! Y/n was just saying how you couldn't come because you were working late" the same girl asks, curious for an explanation. I know she means well but this girl just doesn't know when to quit. "Oh I wanted to surprise her" he says draping his arm around the back of my chair. It's luckily an answer that satisfies all of them and the conversation switches to another topic soon after. 

"What are you doing here?" I turn and whisper to him, making sure the people around us definitely won't hear. "I went by the apartment and I saw that you weren't there and I got worried. You still share your location with me so I wanted to come and make sure you were okay" he says placing his hand on my thigh as a way to show his sincerity and also play the part of still being a happy couple. 

"Well as you can see I'm fine so you can leave now" I say and pull back giving him a pointed look but before he can respond another person from the group speaks up. "What are you two love birds talking about over there?" one of the guys teases. "Wouldn't you like to know" Jungkook says with a smug smile taking the burden of having to come up with an excuse off of me.

"How have things been with you guys though? It's been a while since either of you have been out with us?" another girl asks. When did tonight become a ask y/n and Jungkook 20 questions? Why can't we just drink and eat and talk about anything but us, even though there's not really an 'us' right now. 

"Things have been good, yeah we're- oh look the food is here!" I start but I'm thankfully given an excuse to turn the topic to something else as the waiters place all of the various side dishes in front of us as well as the raw meat to grill with everyone's minds are now focused on getting everything ready to eat. 

Jungkook gets a piece of meat off the grill and adds it to his ssam and I go to do the same but as soon as I'm putting the finishing touches on mine Jungkook holds his out and offers it to me. "Open" he says, urging me to let him feed me and I give him a dead pan expression, annoyed that he would even go this far. 

I look around the table and see the others taking little glances at us and commenting on how cute we are and so I turn my eyes back over to him and open my mouth for him to put in and he does so happily, watching attentively and making sure I don't choke on anything. 

Once I've chewed a bit I continue filling the one I was working on and instead overfill it and hold it out for Jungkook to eat. He looks down at it, intimidated by the size but once I cock a brow at him he opens his mouth receiving it and the next second I shove it into his mouth, leaving him coughing and struggling to get it down. 

"Is he okay?" one of the guys asks me. "Oh yeah he's fine don't worry about it. Aren't you honey?" I say, daring him to say otherwise and he simply holds up an 'okay' sign with his hand as he coughs and tries his best to chew and swallow everything down which annoyingly he's able to do. 

"How did that taste love?" I whisper to him with a sickeningly sweet smile, payback for him showing up here even though he knew I wouldn't want him here. "Was that really necessary?" he questions after taking a few gulps of water. "Was you coming here really necessary? I told you to leave me alone" I whisper to him and at this point I sound like a broken record. 

"I want to talk to you though" he responds doing just the same. "And until you let me I'm just gonna keep showing up and bothering you until you give me a chance to do so" he says, finally admitting to his nonsense tactic to getting his way, clearly making his younger age show. I stand up abruptly, and decide that I have given up on keeping up appearances and make moves to leave. 

"Sorry guys I'm not feeling well so I think I'm gonna get going" I say and open my purse and hand Kayla twenty dollars to cover my part of the bill. "You okay?" she asks and I say yes but she can clearly see that I'm not. "I'll be fine guys don't worry I'm just gonna head home and get some rest" I say and when I start to walk away Jungkook follows after also following suit to give Kayla more than enough to cover for us. 

"You can stay here and have fun with them" I says sweetly, putting up an act for them but using it as a threat to him. "No it's okay Jungkook go help take care of her we'll see you guys next time" one of them says but before I'm able to disagree Jungkook jumps in. "Thanks for everything guys" he responds before ushering the both of us towards the exit. 

Before we step outside the door though we finally notice it's started to rain, and not just rain but a full on downpour. "When did it start raining?" I ask looking at the world outside as it looks a though it had been raining for ages already. "It looked kind of cloudy when I came in but it wasn't raining yet" he says, just as shocked by the sight. 

"Lemme call us a cab" he says and pulls out his phone to do so. "No I can get one myself" I say and take a deep breath before walking out, no rain jacket, no umbrella, nothing. I just need to get away from here and away from him as soon as possible. "Y/n where are you going?" he says and runs after me and before I'm even able to try and hail a cab I can clearly see that there are none in sight. 

"Just come back inside and we can wait for one and if you want we can even take separate cabs" he offers trying to meet me halfway. "No, I don't need your help" I say and blindly start walking away, hoping he will just go back inside and leave me alone "Noona wait it's too dangerous!" he calls after me but I don't even bother looking back. 

"You know you're going the wrong way right?" he yells, hoping to get me to turn around and let him help me. "I don't care" I yell back and start walking faster. "Where are you going?" he yells, making sure to still stay close. "Away from you" I say and keep going on my journey to no where. 

"Just let me help you get home okay, please" he begs but I don't budge, I'm gonna keep walking until he gets tired and finally leaves me alone. "You know I'm not letting you walk these streets all by yourself right? As long as you're out here I'm staying with you" he say, seeing right through me but I keep walking anyway.

~~~~~~ 

I keep walking and walking until we've come to that same bookshop I had been in just yesterday, finally taking notice of just how far I've walked. I finally stop and catch my breath for a second, trying to figure out what the hell kind of point I'm trying to prove here but I can't come up with one that is big enough to do something ridiculous like this. 

He catches up to me a few seconds later and just stands beside me, not trying to get closer and not bothering to say anything since he knows it would probably just make me even more angry. 

We stand there for a second and I look up at the sky, taking a deep breath before looking back over at him where he's just standing there and looking at the wet ground around me, not making eye contact with me either, just making sure that I know that he's going to be right here standing next to me no matter what I say. 

I take another deep breath and swallow my pride before holding my hand out for him to take. He shifts his weight away from me and just stares at it for a second, trying to figure out what caused a change in heart that I would not only stop but ask for him to grab my hand. 

"So you gonna take it or not?" I ask getting irritated that he's taking too long to make up his mind and at that he reaches his hand out quickly and places it in mine before looking back up at me with a questioning gaze. Instead of responding I just tug on his hand and turn us both around to walk back the way we just came and start heading back home.

~~~~ 

Once we get to the door I immediately grab my keys and open up, letting the both of us inside. "Fuck I'm freezing" I say taking off my shoes and stripping off my sweater, forgetting the tiny tank top I'm wearing without a bra and I don't even notice until I turn back around and see that he's staring at my chest, nipples cold and hard and when he he notices I'm staring at him he looks up at me with an intensity I haven't seen in a while. 

I look at him, drinking in his figure as well seeing how soaked his white t-shirt is and how his pants are clinging to his thighs. I gulp and look back up at his face where his eyes have gotten even darker from observing how I was checking him out as well. 

He takes a few steps towards me and I stumble back against a wall and am forced to watch as he takes a few steps closer until he's looking right down at me. He takes his hand and reaches for the one he had been holding before and then brings it up to his lips giving it a kiss. 

"Why did you let me in?" he questions, his voice deeper and a bit strained from breathing in the cold air from the journey here. "I-i don't know" I whisper and my eyes flick down to his lips unconsciously and he takes that as a sign to keep going. 

He places his other hand on my cheek and I flinch a bit at how cold it is but lean into it a few seconds later, welcoming the fluttering feeling it stirs my my stomach. He leans down and rests his forehead against mine causing me to close my eyes, feeling like I'm burning under his intense gaze. 

"What are you doing to me?" he whispers and all I can do is try not to whimper in response. He tilts my chin up and brings his face closer and rubs his nose up against mine making me feel breathless at the slightest sign of intimacy no matter how small and I find myself unconsciously wrapping my arms around his neck. He in turn leans in and closes the distance between us, kissing me softly but still coaxing a whimper out of me, missing the feeling off being wanted by him. 

He moulds his lips against mine and brushes his tongue along my bottom lip and I open my mouth at the feeling, letting him use his tongue to explore my mouth, making butterflies fly in my stomach and leaving me moaning softly as I welcome him in. 

I take my hands off of his shoulders and feel for his jacket and start to push it off of him which he obliges and I reach for his shirt and push it up to help him take it off and he parts from my lips only for a second to slip it over his head. I touch his bare skin and even though we were so wet and cold his skin has already started to heat up leaving me not being able to take my hands off of him.

My hands travel up and down his abs and pecks that have both gotten more defined since the last I had seen them and before I'm able to think about it any more he trails his hands down my hips and  continues to trail them down and grabs the inside of my thighs before he breaks apart our lips again telling me to jump and I do immediately, kissing him as he walks us both back to the bedroom. 

Once we get there he helps me out of my tank top and traces his hands along my bare back while pressing me closer into him our chest now flush against each other while it almost feels like he's trying to hold me even closer, not letting go and devouring my mouth until he trails his hands along my curves and fiddles with the button of my pants and waits for me to say something before actually taking them off. 

Still kissing me I part for a second and utter a hurried 'yes' before he's unzipping them and taking everything off leaving me completely bare and I help him get out of the rest of his clothes right after. 

We both fall onto the bed together and never stop kissing and I part my legs for him to lay between. He runs a finger along my slit making me whimper against his lips as he teases my clit and then circles it around my entrance and then slowly slips a finger in making me let out a restrained moan, being sensitive from not having been touched by him for so long. 

"Shit" he says feeling how tight I am just from putting in one finger and working it in and out of me, coaxing me to stretch out for him. "Jungkook" I whimper when he adds another digit and he swears again at how much I'm clenching around them. "Relax baby" he whispers rubbing his thumb against my clit in circles to help me calm down and open up enough so he can slip another finger in. 

"I haven't fucked you properly in a while huh?" he says between kisses, curling his fingers up inside of me making a breathy moan spill past my lips as I squeeze my eyes shut. "I don't know if this tiny cunt can even take me anymore. Do you think it can?" he asks rubbing his nose up against mine while he curls his fingers inside me again.

I nod my head but he's not satisfied, "Words Noona. Do you think this pretty little cunt can take me again?" he pushes and rubs his thumb around my clit again while thrusting his fingers inside of me. "Yes" I moan out and he luckily decides not to tease any longer. 

"That's a good girl" he says before taking his fingers out of me and placing them in his mouth, savoring my taste before he leans down and kisses me again "Almost forgot how sweet you taste" he says and before I'm able to even think about responding he pushes the tip inside making me let out a breathy moan. 

"Fuck I missed this" he says pushing in a bit more, giving me time to adjust before going in further. "Jungkook" I whimper, not being able to focus on anything but the sensation of feeling him bare and going deeper and deeper. "I know baby, I know" he says pushing in more while placing a kiss on my temple before bottoming out. 

"Looks like this pretty cunt is greedy isn't she?" he says while rubbing my clit, helping me get used to him. He rests his forehead against mine and lets labored breaths in and out, relishing in the feeling of my walls clenching around him. I nod my head and he takes it as a sign to move and he pulls out half way before pushing all the way in, setting a more gentle, sensual pace that leaves my brain fogging up with thoughts of only him. 

He pulls out all the way and presses back into me inch by inch, savoring how my walls are sucking him in. "Please, faster" I say, throwing my head back on the pillow, dying from the slow building feeling of my orgasm, wanting to be granted release sooner. "Patience Noona" he taunts and he presses back in but pulls out and gives me a shallow hard thrust leaving my back arching up into him. 

He quickens his pace and starts kissing on my neck, leaving marks in his wake and soon thrusting into me harder while I let out restrained moans. "No Noona let me hear you, I wanna hear you scream my name" he growls and starts thrusting into me at an animalistic pace. "Fuck Jungkook" I moan, starting to get closer to my release.

"What is it pretty?" he says slowing down the pace, leaving me whining at the feeling of my high coming down again. "No" I say throwing my head back into the pillows, hating that he robbed me of it. "No what? I just gave you a chance to tell me what you wanted, I couldn't hear you over all of your moaning" and he punctuates his sentence with a sharp thrust earning him a choked moan coming out of me and feeling me squeeze around him. 

"Does Noona wanna cum?" he taunts, giving me another sharp thrust. "Jungkook please" I beg, pulling him closer to kiss him but he stops before our lips touch. "I don't know what you want me to do unless you tell me" he says, lips brushing against mine but not close enough to kiss. 

"I wanna cum, please" I breathe out and at that I see a mischievous glint flash in his eyes before he kisses me and pounds into me harder than he had before and swallowing all of my moans of pleasure. 

"You close?" he questions after a while, already being able to feel the answer but making me say it nonetheless. "Shit y-yes so close k-keep going" I stutter, about to tip over the edge and seconds later it all comes crashing down, leaving me arching into him and dragging my nails along his back and he groans at the feeling and cums seconds after that, fucking us both through our highs. 

Once he's emptied out he keeps on thrusting until I whine from over stimulation and kisses me while he pulls out, me hating the feeling of being empty again. He lays down on top of me for a second as we both catch our breaths but soon rolls off and lays next to me while we both take a second to slow down our breathing. 

Without a word he sits up and walks over to my side and scoops me up in his arms. "What are you doing?" I ask throwing my arms around his neck. "You need to go to the bathroom and then we need to clean up he says, making decisions for what I need to do before giving me an option like always but I decide not to mention it this time, staying silent and waiting for him to put me down. 

He sets me down on my feet and turns around to turn on the shower and walks out into the hallway to get us both towels, giving me a bit of privacy to do my business before coming back in. When he comes back he opens the shower door for me and lets me walk in, holding on to make sure I don't fall before coming in after me.                         

We both stand there in the shower getting warm under the water as the doors and mirrors get fogged up in turn. 

Neither of us talks for a while until he puts some body wash in his hands and lathers it up before rubbing it onto my back and shoulders, talking his time to wash me from head to toe, cleaning and massaging all of me to make sure to loosen me up so I won't get sore. 

He's does this every time we have sex, or had sex since it's been a while and I welcome it, hating and loving the feeling. Feeling guilty about letting him take care of me like this when all I've done is push him away. 

As he finishes up he takes my shampoo and conditioner and washes my hair as well before rinsing everything off of me and switching places with me gently so he's in the direct stream of water so he can wash himself as well.

While he has his arms up and is scrubbing his scalp I wrap my arms around him from behind and rest my cheek against his back. "This was a mistake" I mumble and at that he freezes before hurrying to rinse the shampoo out of his hair so it doesn't get in either of our eyes. 

"Is that how you truly feel?" he asks, sounding disheartened but knowing that something like this was going to happen if I still wanted to push him away. "Yeah. Well, I don't know" I say, being honest with honestly not knowing how I feel. 

He turns around to face me and looks down while cupping my face in both of his hands. "Do you want me to leave?" he asks, his eyes going back and forth between mine searching my face for answers and finding the one that says I want him to leave and he utters an silent okay before I even have a chance to say anything.

He opens the shower door and closes it behind him, taking one of the towels and drying off his hair quickly before wrapping it around his waist and walking out of the bathroom. I let out a pained sigh and feel a rush of emotions flood my system with senses of doubt in all of my dealings with this.

'Do I want him to go? Do I want him to stay? Do I want to be with him? Do I want to break up?' those as well as many more are the questions that go round and round in my head without answers. 

The thing that breaks me out of that circular train of thought though is the sound of the front door closing behind him as he walks out and the next is the sound of my sobs as I hit the floor, finally let my heart break.  

Thursday / Saturday Series Masterlist

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[scary-lasagna]

Has BEN ever had any past relationships? If so, had did they end.

sorry this is late today, I've been booping SO MANY times

Ben

Ben is quite the relationship hopper.Not on purpose, but he just seems to be unlucky when it comes to finding a partner.

Some of his past relationships were good, and others not so much.

Two problems about Ben are a.) he's very smart and b.) he is lazy.

Whether he realizes it or not, he won't spend his energy on someone he deems not smart enough to communicate with.

He'll slowly drift away from his partner if they don't see things from his point of view immediately or try to indulge in things he likes.

But he will try to bend backward for them as far as he can, ultimately hurting himself and his happiness.

He also has a high drive for the bedroom, which can provide mixed communication.

A few previous relationships ended because he wasn't putting in enough effort toward his partner.

And in the next one, he apparently put in too much effort.

Then he got cheated on and blamed for his partner not loving him anymore. (Jeff nearly cut their tongue out).

A few problems lead to his easier breakups, like his messy room, work-addiction, spending too much time with his friends, and forgetting important dates like birthdays and anniversaries.

He really tries his best, but a lot of problems stem from his brain being too busy, and giving into his temptations.