#lap loop au

[wolvietxt]

𝓓ISTANCE.

pairing : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : slightly suggestive, implied age gap, super light barely there angst, implied size diff, fluff, established relationship au, petnames summary : you miss your boyfriend more than anything, even though he’s currently sitting right next to you wc : 1.7k

the apartment felt too big, even with frank sitting just a few feet away. he was at the kitchen table, leaned back in one of the rickety chairs, his broad shoulders and solid frame making the furniture look almost laughably small. he was nursing a beer, gaze trained out the window like there was something out there worth watching.  

but you weren’t looking out the window. you were watching him, the way his forearm flexed when he tipped the bottle to his lips, the way his jaw ticked as he thought about whatever was running through that head of his.  

frank castle, in all his quiet intensity, was here. but for some reason, it felt like he wasn’t, and you hated it more than anything.

“are you all good over there?” you asked, breaking the silence.  

he didn’t turn to look at you, but his lips twitched at the sound of your voice. “yeah, baby, m’fine. just thinkin’.”  

“you’ve been thinking all day,” you mumbled begrudgingly, leaning against the couch and crossing your arms.  

this time, he did glance at you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “what’s wrong?”  

“nothing.” you bit your lip, shifting under his gaze, feeling the pout start to form on your lips. the truth was, you missed him - his touch, his warmth, the way he always made you feel so safe without even trying. but saying that out loud felt silly, especially when he was right there.  

frank, however, didn’t let much slide. “don’t look like nothin’,” he said, setting the bottle down and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “you gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?”  

you hesitated, cheeks warming under his scrutiny. “it’s dumb.”  

“you know i don’t care if it’s dumb, sweetheart,” he said, his tone softening. “what‘s the matter?”  

you huffed, feeling a little ridiculous but knowing he wasn’t going to let it go. “i just… really miss you, i guess.”  

frank frowned, confusion flickering across his face. “miss me? i’m right here.”  

“i know,” you said quickly, looking away, feeling small under the weight of his gaze. “it’s stupid, i know. but it’s like… you’re here, but you’re not really here, you know?”  

he didn’t say anything right away, and the silence made you fidget. finally, he let out a quiet chuckle, the sound low and warm. “c’mere.”  

you blinked, looking back at him. “what?”  

“i said, c’mere,” he repeated, sitting back in his chair and holding out a hand. “if you miss me so much, then come over here, baby.”  

you felt your cheeks heat even more, but you didn’t hesitate. pushing yourself off the couch, you crossed the small space between you and slipped into his lap, your arms looping around his neck instinctively.  

frank’s hands settled on your hips, big and warm and steady, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief at the contact.  

“that better?” he asked, his voice teasing but gentle.  

“a little,” you admitted, resting your head against his shoulder.  

his chest rumbled with a quiet laugh, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “needy little thing, aren’t you?”  

“maybe,” you mumbled, nuzzling closer.  

“it’s cute,” he said, his hands moving up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes. “you’re cute.”  

you tilted your head to look up at him, your heart fluttering at the softness in his gaze. “you think so?”  

“yeah,” he murmured, his lips twitching into a small smile. “damn adorable.”  

you felt a little ridiculous, sitting there in his lap, your arms tight around his neck like you couldn’t get close enough. but it didn’t matter. the way frank’s hands were soothing your back, the way he was looking at you, made everything else disappear. you weren’t aware of the world outside the two of you anymore, just the warmth of his chest beneath your cheek and the steady beat of his heart that you could feel through the thin fabric of his shirt.  

"so you really miss me, huh?" frank's voice was low, a bit rougher than usual, but there was no mocking in it. just something soft, something a little unexpected.  

you nodded, unable to say anything else. your fingers idly traced the line of his jaw, the stubble there a little rough against your touch. you could feel your heart race just being this close to him.  

“that’s cute,” frank murmured, his voice a little softer now as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer. "you know you're all i need, right?"  

“yeah, but you’re still so far away sometimes,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his neck as you settled against him more comfortably, your body fitting into his with an ease that surprised you.  

he tensed for a moment, but it wasn’t from discomfort. he just seemed… caught off guard by your neediness, the way it pulled at something inside him. you could feel his breath hitch when you nuzzled closer, the tip of your nose brushing his collarbone.  

“it’s not far away,” he said softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “just been distracted, sweetheart. i’m here now.”  

you melted a little more at his words, your heart swelling. "i know."  

frank leaned down, pressing his lips against your temple in a gentle kiss that made everything inside you feel light and soft. his large hands moved again, this time running up your back before settling at the back of your neck, fingers gently threading through your hair.  

“you get all soft like this, and i can’t resist,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.  

you laughed, the sound shaky but happy. “i’m not that soft.”  

“yeah, you are,” frank teased, his lips brushing against your jaw now as his fingers lightly massaged your scalp. “so damn cute. don’t know how you do it.”  

“do what?” you asked, your voice a little breathless from the closeness, the heat, the overwhelming affection in the air.  

“make me wanna kiss you all the time,” he said, the words soft but full of meaning. “make me wanna keep you close, make sure no one else gets the chance to take you from me.”  

you bit your lip, your hands sliding up to tug at the collar of his shirt, the movement a little desperate but filled with a need you couldn’t quite hide. “don’t want anyone else. just want you.”  

that made his chest rumble with a soft laugh, but this time, there was something undeniably tender in it. he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he looked at you with that soft intensity you rarely saw.  

“good. ‘cause i’m not lettin’ anyone take you,” he said, his lips curling into a smile.  

you could feel the playful energy crackling between you, even as it was all wrapped in something softer, something more intimate. you weren’t entirely sure how you’d gone from missing him to practically begging for his touch, but it didn’t matter. all that mattered was that he was here, pulling you in even closer, his hands a warm anchor against you.  

“come here,” frank murmured, his lips brushing yours in the faintest of kisses. “let me show you how much i want you too.”  

without waiting for a response, he tilted his head, his mouth capturing yours in a deeper kiss, more forceful than before, but still tender. it felt like an anchor, like a reassurance that this - whatever this was between you - was real.  

you let yourself fall into it, your hands roaming down his chest, feeling the solid muscles beneath his shirt, your fingers tracing the lines of his body like it was the first time you were allowed to touch him.  

his hands slid down your back, his grip tightening just enough to pull you even closer, his body pressing against yours in a way that had your heart skipping a beat.  

“you sure you’re alright?” frank asked against your lips, his voice heavy with desire but still laced with concern.  

“yeah,” you breathed out, your fingers tugging at the waistband of his pants, the simple touch making him exhale sharply. “i’m more than alright now.”  

he smirked against your mouth, pulling back just slightly to look at you. “thought you were just missin’ me, not all... this,” he teased, his voice low, filled with amusement and affection.  

“missed you,” you confirmed, voice thick with the need you could no longer hide. “missed everything. all of you.”  

there was something about the way he looked at you then, like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment. and you didn’t care how needy you seemed, didn’t care about anything other than him.  

frank brushed a lock of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering along your jaw. “you’re somethin’ else,” he muttered, eyes soft as he looked down at you.  

you smiled, finally feeling the weight of his attention in the most perfect way. “only for you, frank.”  

his lips quirked up in that familiar, barely there smile, his hands pulling you in again. “damn right, sweetheart.”  

and just like that, you were lost in him again, caught up in the softness of his touch, the warmth of his embrace, the undeniable need to be close to each other - always.

ᰔ frank castle : @stvr-dust, @uncertified-doc

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[jayparked]

miscommunication - jay's version

PAIRING: best friend jay x female reader WORD COUNT: 3.9k GENRE: crack, smut ; mdni AU: best friends to lovers(finally) WARNINGS: punishment and pain kink, spanking, fingering, rough sex, begging, bondage, brat/brat tamer dynamics, edging, dacryphilia, dirty talk, pet names, strong language SNAIL TRAIL: here are jay's texts AND his written part! thank you to @sungbeams for looking over this last minute and thank you to all my tickets in the jayparked's garage discord server💛 to get updates and previews on my work before they get posted, join here(18+)

♡ ot7 texts part one ; part two ; part three ; part four ; part five ; part six ; part seven; part eight ♡ ♡heeseung ; jay ; jake ; sunghoon ; sunoo ; jungwon ; riki♡

It all happened so fast.

One moment you were boldly texting your best friend something you never thought you’d have the courage to say. Thoughts and feelings you’ve been harboring for years finally spilling out, unable to keep any and all doubts about potentially ruining the greatest friendship you’ve ever had at bay. Harboring these feelings for so many years was driving you crazy and you just couldn’t help but test the waters a little bit to see if maybe, just maybe, there was a possibility that he could feel the same way about you.

And now? Said best friend has you bent over his lap, his strong hand massaging and rubbing the swell of your bare ass cheeks before smacking his palm against it.

Another strong smack with his fingers spread apart has you whimpering louder than before, squirming on his lap while your pussy drips with neglected attention. “Jay…need you to touch me.”

“I don’t think you’re in any sort of position to be making demands,” he says coldly with another harsh hit. Your body lurches forward, eyes stinging with tears, but it’s the way Jay gently rubs at the flesh he just hit that has your heart fluttering in your chest. “You thought it was funny to play with my emotions? Hmm? Think you can just get away with whatever you want to me without any consequences?”

As soon as you open your mouth to answer him he lands another harsh hit to your ass, instantly squeezing your flesh so hard you can feel his nails breaking your skin. A loud gasp forces its way from your mouth along with an embarrassing droplet of drool. Your thighs are shaking, ass stinging from the repeated contact from Jay’s palms and the tears are finally starting to streak down your cheeks. Even still, your clit is pulsating, desperately awaiting some form of contact. 

“I’m sorry!” You finally give in. “Just…Jay please. I need something.”

“Something,” he mocks with a low chuckle, still massaging your bruised flesh, “You were so careless with your words before, why so shy now?”

Brain whirling in a desperate attempt to find some sort of comprehensible words, you glance over your shoulder to Jay’s lap. His black jeans are strained by his hard cock, a prominent tent beautifully on display right before your eyes. You always thought that actions spoke louder than words. So, you do the only sensible thing that comes to mind and pivot your body slightly and put both hands on his belt. 

“What do you think you’re-” Jay groans, cutting himself off when he feels your hands bump against his erection. You’re failing miserably to even get the leather out from his pant loops, let alone even begin to try to undo the stiff button and zipper. Huffing in frustration, you’re about to make some progress when Jay’s fingers curl around your wrist, stopping you completely.

You gulp loudly, braving a quick look up at him only to find his cold gaze already upon you. His jaw is stiff, the muscles flexing with each exhale he lets out through his flared nostrils. 

Jay exhales deeper, biting his tongue between the side of his teeth before speaking. “What do you think you’re doing?” Through gritted teeth the words send chills down your spine. For a moment, you brace yourself for another brutal spanking montage, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Jay patiently awaits your answer, his grip on your wrist only tightening.

“I-...I just-” you stammer pathetically. Jay raises an eyebrow at you and continues to wait. “I need you.”

Even though his dark eyes are narrowing, you see something shift, something so subtle you think you might be making it up – then his free hand is cupping the side of your cheek, gently moving along your cheekbone with his thumb, and it’s undeniably there: endearment.

All too quickly, the moment is gone.

Jay releases your wrist to undo his belt himself, fully removing it from the waist of his jeans. You excitedly lick your lips, watching and waiting for him to free himself so you can finally get a look at what he’s been hiding. But instead of tossing the belt and moving forward, Jay folds the belt in half, giving his palm a testing slap. It isn’t until his devilish smirk appears that you realize what he’s about to do.

“Jay! No! I’m sorry! I-”

Smack!

Warm pain blooms against your ass where the belt landed perfectly across both cheeks. Sharply inhaling, you try your best to keep your body calm, but your thighs are already shaking again, fresh tears threatening to spill as the sting continues to get worse. You’re about to speak, to make another attempt to protest against this harsh treament, but Jay is cruel and times his next hit perfectly. All that comes out of your mouth is a haggard sob, yet you can’t help the way your eyes roll back slightly, your clit still throbbing while you clench around nothing. It’s becoming too much. If you don’t feel any sort of contact soon you might just pass out.

“You’re such a brat,” he growls, leaning down to bite on your right ass cheek while he gropes the other. You cry out again, wondering if you’ll even be able to sit properly after this. Jay moans as you squirm, loving the way you’re whining and knowing you’re feeling so overstimulated and neglected at the same time.

Suddenly, Jay’s moving you off his lap and onto your back at the head of his bed. Body looming over yours, Jay grabs both of your wrists and thrusts them above your head, his face now inches from yours. Chest still moving rapidly with each haggard breath, Jay looks down at you with that focused stare of his, licking his lips slowly. “Hmm…I have an idea.” The belt comes back into your line of sight and for a moment, you’re slightly scared that he might use it on your clit or chest. You wonder what it would feel like, but also shiver with the thought of the continued torture.

Instead, Jay loops the belt strategically around your wrists and the headboard, completely trapping you in place.

“What?” You tug at your restraints, barely getting any slack.

“Since you can’t keep your hands to yourself and you love playing games, I figured this would be a good punishment for you.” Jay’s hands roam about your naked body freely now, savoring every bump and every curve of you. Wiggling your hips, you try to get free, but he has you fully trapped with both his legs on either side of yours.

“But I want to touch you!” You growl out in frustration, bucking your hips up again and forcing Jay to grab you by your hips to keep you steady.

“Who knew you’d be like this? God…” Jay’s hands begin to roam again now that you’ve calmed down slightly, still huffing at him nonetheless. “Has no one properly put you in your place before?” He laughs at your scowl, “I take that as a no…well it’s an honor to be the one to do it. Act like a brat, get punished like a brat. It’s that simple. Next time you can learn how to communicate like a big girl and just tell me you want me like a normal person instead of purposefully trying to get me riled up so I’ll make the first move.” He flicks a finger playfully against your perked nipple, chuckling again when you wince. 

Settling between your legs, Jay places both palms on your angled knees, rubbing them absentmindedly while pushing your legs apart – putting you on display. Just one look at your glistening folds has his head falling back with a groan, “Oh my god, look at you…damn.” Taking two of his fingers, Jay swipes them against your arousal. A long string connects from his fingers to your core, the sight completely lewd and has you shivering. Jay only groans again, moving his fingers up to his mouth before taking a deep inhale, eyes fluttering shut. Then, he opens his eyes and holds eye contact with you before slowly inserting his digits into his mouth, moaning as the sweet taste of you hits his tongue.

“Jay,” you whimper softly, “you’re making me go crazy.”

He scoffs out a laugh, licking his lips generously now that his fingers are back to your knees. Resuming his soft massages, Jay looks at you with dark clouded eyes. “I’m making you crazy? You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me these past few weeks.” He chuckles again, shaking his head before leaning closer, his face now inches from yours, “You’re going crazy? I’ve been going insane.”

A choked moan forces its way out of your throat because at the exact time he says ‘insane’ he ruts his clothed cock right over your core; the pressure sends an electric shock of pleasure throughout your body, finally feeling contact on your bundle of nerves after being neglected for so long. You desperately want to reach out and cling to his biceps, to dig your fingernails into his skin and finally tear those clothes off of him, but his belt still digs into your wrists. After a moment, you realize something that has you biting down on your bottom lip to suppress your smirk: your fists have been clenched this whole time. 

While Jay is distracted with rutting himself against you, you manage to slip your hands out of your restraints. Before Jay can even notice, your hands are pushing against his chest, knocking him onto his back with your legs now straddling on either side of his hips. You can’t stop the smirk from growing on your face, knowing it’ll only agitate Jay more.

You watch as his confused expression turns aghast. Jay lets out a warning chuckle, closely resembling a scoff as he’s shaking his head back and forth in disbelief. Misleadingly gentle, his hands come up to grab your hips, thumbs tracing over your curves. He takes a moment, eyes roaming unabashedly over your bare body. Adoration is clear in his gaze, but there’s a dark mix of something more, something hungry hiding behind his deep brown eyes.

It feels like you can finally relax, letting your hands roam over his toned chest without worrying about keeping him in place. 

But as soon as you lower your hips and attempt to grind on him, something shifts.

The grip Jay has on your hips tightens and soon enough, you’re laying on your back gasping for breath while he stares down at you. It’s his turn to smirk, proud at how easily he tricked you into thinking you had any sort of control.

“Cute,” he murmurs, dipping his head low to kiss along your jawline, “but not gonna happen.”

With a quick nip at your neck, Jay sits back and rolls you onto your stomach. Your heart is beating so loudly in your ears that you miss his instructions, resulting in another harsh smack against your ass.

“There’s no way a few spankings has you this out of it,” Jay murmurs, “I said put your hands behind your back.” When you don’t immediately do as you're told, Jay grunts and moves your hands to your back on his own. A cold, thick material presses around your wrists that you can only assume is the belt again. 

“Maybe this will teach you to keep your hands to yourself,” he grumbles, cinching the belt so tight around your wrists that you let out a muffled whimper.

Satisfied with his work, Jay leans back, his hands wandering over the expanse of your back down to the swell of your bruised ass before traveling back up again. It’s a simple touch, almost like a massage, yet the action has your breathing quickening, heart racing, and limbs restless as he, yet again, pushes your senses to their limit. Feeling his hands on your bare skin everywhere except where you need him most is torturous, your mind buzzing with the urge to throw a fit until you finally get what you want.

But that’s exactly what he’s hoping for.

You close your eyes and inhale slowly through your nose, exhaling only when you start to feel dizzy. Trying to keep your composure in this situation is one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do, but your pride is on the line, knowing that if you beg for Jay too eagerly you’ll never hear the end of it.

Lucky for you, Jay isn’t feeling very patient anymore.

Excitement bubbles too quickly in your chest when you hear the sound of his zipper. Craning your neck to try to get a look at him, you’re met with Jay’s growing smirk, hands now moving slower knowing you’re watching him. A low whimper escapes your lips, Jay’s eyes softening with weak fondness.

“Just be patient. I’m not trying to rush this,” Jay murmurs, his smile soft and genuine. It makes your heart flutter, seeing him like this especially after he just spent so long punishing you for teasing him for so long.

Finally, finally, you feel two of his fingers sliding between your folds. An embarrassingly loud moan leaves your lips, making you bite down on your lip hard to try to control yourself. But Jay just chuckles behind you, loving the way your body twitches from no longer being ignored. He sighs longingly, collecting your slick slowly between his fingers, teasing around your clit as he does so. All you can do is keep whimpering, still holding onto what little sanity you have left. You refuse to beg, refuse to apologize for what you’ve done to get yourself in this position.

Much to your surprise (and gratitude), it seems Jay has also forgotten about his plan to make you beg and plead for forgiveness with the way his fingers slowly push into your hole. Curling his fingers slowly, Jay groans quietly. You almost missed it, too distracted with the relief he’s coaxing out of you.

It doesn’t take long for the squelching sounds to fill the room, your arousal quickly coating Jay’s fingers while he diligently curls inside you. His pace is slow but consistent, easily keeping you in a state of bliss while still eager for more.

“Fuck,” Jay groans, “you’re shaking, baby. You need me this bad?”

All you can muster is a pathetic whimper, trying to sneakily move your hips to fuck yourself more on his fingers. You should have known better, though. Nothing gets past Jay, afterall.

With his free hand, Jay brings it down on your left asscheek, kneading your flesh after the abrupt hit. “So impatient. You could have had me all this time if you had only asked.”

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” you whimper again, sighing contently when Jay’s finger brushes against your clit.

“And look where that got you; all pent up and being punished for your childish decisions. But don’t worry, my baby, I’m a patient man and will show you how to behave.” He kisses the spot between your shoulder blades, chills erupting throughout your skin while somehow leaving a burning feeling in his absence.

You try to move your head to the side so you can see him – needing eye contact before saying what you want to say. “Jay–,” Hair falls in your face, cutting off your train of thought. You groan before trying to blow it away with no luck. Chuckling fondly, Jay removes his fingers from your cunt and leans forward, taking his untainted hand to move the disarray strands from your face. Time slows for a moment when you finally see him and it feels like the universe has finally aligned in your favor. You forget all about the fact that your hands are restrained behind your back and your ass is throbbing with pain, but none of it matters because you’re here with him after all this time.

“I really like you, Jay.” 

He playfully rolls his eyes, blinking rapidly while biting his lip. The laugh he lets out is nervously joyful, his eyes softening despite his attempts to appear nonchalant. It feels so good to finally say the words out loud, confessing what’s been weighing on your heart for so long now.

“Well,” Jay says slowly, leaning closer to your face, “if it isn’t obvious…I really like you too, Y/n.” He leans in more, connecting your lips together despite the awkward angle. And it feels like the best kiss you could possibly have in a moment like this. Jay’s lips fit against yours perfectly, so soft, so comforting, so right.

When you finally pull apart, you watch as Jay’s gaze goes from warm and soft, to shadowed and devious. Your heart rate quickens, but before you have a chance to form a coherent thought, Jay sits up and is removing his shirt, barely within your peripheral view.

“I can’t wait any longer.” Jay’s words send a wave of excitement down to your core. You hear his clothes drop to the floor and you desperately want a view of him in all his naked glory. The feeling of something prodding at your hole jolts your system, completely unprepared for the intrusion. Jay’s hands grab your waist gently, repositioning your body to the angle he needs you in. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of Jay’s cock inside of you. Every curve, every vein is everything you need and more.

“Oh my god,” Jay swears, bottoming out in you, “you feel so perfect. This pussy was made for me.” A sharp smack on your ass has you yelping, completely caught off guard. “Why would you keep this from me for so long?” 

“I told you-”

Smack. The skin on your butt feels bruisingly hot, the sting so deep in your skin unlike anything you've ever felt before. And it feels so fucking good.

“Don’t talk back to me. Apologize. Tell me how sorry you are for keeping this pussy from me.” Him not moving and just sitting inside you is driving you crazy and you’ve had enough; no more holding onto your pride or sanity. You’re ready to lose it all and give anything you have as long as Jay asks for it.

“I’m sorry! Jay, please I’m sorry. I should have told you how I felt sooner.”

“Good fucking girl,” Jay growls and starts pistoning himself in and out of you, his grip tightening on your hips as he guides you into a perfect rhythm with his thrusts. You become a moaning mess, Jay’s pace unrelenting as he finally lets go of his control. The way his cock feels inside of you is a type of ecstacy you would never be able to conjure up in your wildest dreams.

“Oh, fuck!” You scream out when you feel the tip of Jay’s cock hitting the perfect spot. Even though he just started moving, it almost feels overstimulating. All the build up and teasing from before crashes over you in a drowning wave and all you can think about is how good he feels inside of you. He continues to set a steady pace, not faltering for even a moment when he leans down to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and out of your face. Your stomach flips at the small act of intimacy during such lewd and aggressive acts of sex.

It doesn’t take long before the knot in your stomach tightens to an unbearable depth. No one has ever made you get even close to an orgasm this quickly, let alone make you a blubbering mess underneath them. The way Jay handles your body…it’s like he’s known all along how you’ve needed to be handled. Maybe it’s the years of friendship coming into play, but the way your bodies connect and respond to one another feels natural, like it was meant to happen. There’s moments where you even catch yourself forgetting that this is the first time you’re having sex with him instead of the hundredth. But that will surely come in the future.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” Jay coaxes you through your high, still languidly thrusting into you while you gasp beneath him, body shuddering and quivering from how hard your orgasm hit.

Once you regain some sort of composure, Jay flips you onto your back, your restrained hands digging into your spine. Tears are streaming down your face from everything: the overstimulation, the foreplay, the buildup, the orgasm. When Jay sees your tear stained face, his body stutters. He was just about to insert himself back into you when he sees what a mess he’s made of you. Before he can even insert the tip of his cock back inside you, hand still grasping his own base, he’s coming undone. Spurts of white cum hit all over your body from your chest to your stomach and down to your thighs. Jay’s groan has your heart beating even faster than before as you watch him lose himself at the sight of you, a sense of pride blooming in your chest at the fact that he came so hard just from looking at you.

“Fuck…that’s never happened to me before,” he’s breathing hard, trying to regain his calm demeanor to no avail, “just seeing you like that…I don’t know what came over me.”

“I know what came over me…” you mutter. Jay looks at you for a moment before bursting out in a fit of laughter, you following closely behind. Falling beside you, Jay tucks his head into the crook of your neck, molding his body against yours as your mutual laughter dies down. 

“Let me get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, leaving a featherlight kiss to your neck before sitting up and freeing your wrists from the constraints of his belt. He tosses the belt aside and goes back to massage your wrists gently, looking into your eyes to make sure you’re feeling okay. You nod your head, whispering a quiet “thank you” before he stands up. Stretching, you get a chance to admire the muscles of his back and the way he stands so tall and steady. Something about it is reassuring and you can’t quite place your finger on it, but you know it’s a sight you’ll never get used to.

Disappearing into your bathroom, you hear the sound of running water and cabinet doors being opened and closed. Before long, Jay is in front of you again. Instead of handing you a bundled up wad of toilet paper like other guys have done in the past, Jay presses a warm washcloth against your skin, cleaning up the mess he left behind on your body. The warmth feels soothing, making you sigh and close your eyes as you let him take care of you. 

“Don’t fall asleep yet.”

You groan and roll onto your side facing him with your eyes still closed, “Why? You fucked me so hard I nearly passed out.”

“Because…” the sultry low tone of his voice has your eyes snapping open. Right in front of your face is Jay’s cock, fully erect with new beads of precum dribbling from his slit. Giving a light smack to your cheek with the tip of his dick, Jay chuckles seeing your widened eyes, “we’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for. And we’re just getting started.”

♡ pls like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! ♡ masterlist ♡ all rights reserved jayparked 04/11/25 do not copy, repost, or translate. if you're inspired to create something similar to my work, please credit me

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, handcuffing

fem reader

Think about being a bleating little bunny hunted down by two big bad wolves…

Your fear tastes so good – layered thickly in the air – so sweet in their mouth it’s almost painful how hungry it makes them – seeped and soaked and stained on the bed where they keep you collared and leashed for their own personal use.

You drive them both wild with your aroma and all your cute little struggles where you try so adorably to shove them away and crawl out of their reach. It’s never any use, and yet you still try despite being so stupidly small beneath them – so tiny it only takes one of their hefty hands to have you completely overpowered.

But they’re as sweet as they can be – as sweet as your smaller body allows them to be when it so obviously isn’t meant to take their thicker fatter meaner cocks in its petite little holes – prepping you on tongues and big fingers until you’re as loose as you get before stuffing you with something that’s always going to be too big for you.

They have to tie your hands to something – where despite them being fruitless in their effort, they can become bothersome to leave free – often attaching them to the loop in your collar, so you keep them to yourself all cutely while they mark you with their fangs – making you into a pretty artwork with coarse fingers rubbing your perky little nipples into sore nubs.

You’re really just too cute; it’s cruel – looking up at them with those adorably big eyes and that button nose wrinkling on each little sniffle when you beg them to let you go. Lop-ears sadly framing your face – so soft in their hands and so sensitive it makes you bite your lip all preciously each time they give them a little nibble.

You sob under their touches – knees shaking – as one of them laps at your clit with a bearded chin tickling your puffy pussy-lips, gnawing some on the swollen flesh while slurping your hole. His thick and eager tongue paints through your slit again and again and again on an unrelenting repeat – similar to the eager tail whipping behind him – swallowing all your juice down – growling ferally at the maddening taste while your thighs sweetly tremble around his jaw.

Your other predator bites on the plump of your ass, leaving spotted rings in his wake. Cupping your buttcheeks – fully fitting in the palms of his mighty paws – he cards his claws into the fat and spreads them wide open for an attack on that pretty tight little ring hidden between them. You always whine so sweetly for him – your cute fluffy cottontail doing a little dance while he circles your rim with his tongue – warning you of what’s to come later in the day when he’s finally had the taunt hole fully stretched and as ready as it gets to take his fat knot.

He moans into you while thinking about it – about your cute bunny butt swallowing his meat and being blown full of his thick creampie. Going livid at the mere thought alone – his cock bobs impatiently against his happy trail while he forces restraint upon himself – knowing how if he tries splitting your poor little butt on his pole now, he’d most likely tear you in two.

Instead, he amuses himself by prodding the pretty hole with the tip of a very special golden carrot – fresh batteries turning your rim numb while he slides ring after thicker ring inside you until you close around the tuft of golden leaves at its end. Tugging on his cock impatiently, he places his head – fluffy pointy ear-down upon your belly – listening to the drums echo inside you as he turns the vibrations up high enough to feel it through your skin. 

Of course, he wants to make sure that his precious little bunny is prepped and ready before subjugating you to a good butt-fuck – being kind enough to satisfy himself with your mouth until then – making you cry and choke around his thickness, swallowing his cock down your tight throat until your little nose burrow in the dark curls around his base – watching the pretty furrow between your brows beg for air as your eyes roll back and turn white with desperation.

He lets you suck his balls as mercy once you’ve choked him down long enough – to the point you’ve lost your pretty voice – gripping one of your lop ears, he holds it tightly by the base – thinking there's nothing cuter than spitting on your chubby bunny-face while you dizzily comfort yourself by nuzzling his sack so sweetly. 

Your pussy is left alone after it’s made swollen by a handful of orgasms, but not before the abuser slaps his handiwork with a grin. He wipes his chin off your slick, then grabs your other free ear – messaging the softness as he pulls your mouth off the other’s sack and onto his cock – fucking the pocket of your cheek while you sob from their rough handlings – fearing they might just tear your poor ears off.

They both stand above you as you kneel for them by their feet, lolling your teary lips against their heavy balls – groaning as you give them all sloppy, open-mouthed kisses as they fight for space in your tiny mouth – telling you to beg for the cum stored inside while you slide you pink little tongue over them until they drip with your drool. Then, making your lip and mouth the spine of their shafts, sliding both fat manhoods between your plump lips until making you take one head at a time, licking the slit clean of slaty precum.

But more than childsplay with their cocks on your cute face, they like propping your other two holes – make you moan and cream on them – entirely obsessed with fucking you full of the two of them – pushing in so deep, they have you screaming and shaking in uncontrollable spasms as you clamp down hard around them.

It feels extra sweet when they fuck you at the same time – feeling the other through the wall separating the holes – timing their thrusts – pushing in until completely sheathed down to the base, bottomed-out with their knot swelling up inside you, pumping you full of hot cum before sloshing out – leaving you panting and twitching.

Both holes fluttering around their absence – they inspect them to see how good they have your little bunny-holes stretched – grinning at the sight of both entrances gaping for them as though they can’t wait to be taken by their big dicks – both chuckling deeply when seeing how much of their cum your tightness pushes out before they fuck it right back inside you again – completely mesmerized by the big belly bulge the two of them are making in your tiny body – taken and riveted by the thought of breeding you despite knowing that it would be impossible for you to carry either of their pups. 

None of it keeps them from emptying the full value of their balls inside you for the umpteenth time – both of them slobbering at your neck while messaging you with big hands on your tits and hips, hissing out carnivorous desires your feeble constitution doesn’t understand before they sink their teeth down hard into the soft flesh of your vulnerable neck – claiming you as both their pretty little prey and silly little mate.

BNHA – EndMight, EndHawks, BakuDeku, KiriBaku, DabiHawks, ShigaDabi

JJK – Toji x Shiu, SatoSugu

HQ – Miya twins

DS – DouAka

HxH – HisoIllu

[stevebabey]

you're the only one for me, baby

1.7k, steddie, one of them getting so drunk that they don't recognise the other and telling them back off i've already got a boyfriend, it's all sweetness <3 likely a modern!au and actually just goobers in love

Eddie doesn't really drink. He's not against partying but he's much more attuned to smoking a little weed to take the edge off, sometimes a spliff if he wants to mix a little business and pleasure.

Eddie doesn't really drink—so when he does, it goes about as well as expected.

From zero to a hundred.

Steve had lost track of him after directing his stumbling feet towards the bathroom to take a leak. But apparently, as he's now found out, this bathroom has two doors.

What the fuck kind of bathroom has two doors, like some weird thoroughfare?

Regardless, it took all of five minutes with no noises coming from the inside before Steve had loudly announced he was coming in, no matter what, getting quite worried for his boyfriend.

He trusted Eddie to not be too sloshed to handle a piss, even if he was on the wilder side tonight, but still leaned up against the door to chase off anyone else looking to knock—because Eddie hilariously gets pee-shy.

The door had opened easily, apparently unlocked, and Steve had stepped into the empty bathroom. The other door across the room, the one he hadn't noticed until now, was wide open to the party.

So, now he's on the hunt for Eddie.

Which is a task that feels a little bit like herding cats because drunk Eddie isn't something Steve has a lot of experience with. But what he does know, is this: it's the opposite of high Eddie.

Stoned, Eddie likes to find the comfiest place he can (usually Steve's lap, or so he proclaims) and sink into it, like melting wax. Then, given he has access to adequate snacks, he doesn't move for quite some time.

Drunken Eddie cannot even fathom the concept of sitting still.

Either way, looking where there's food is a good as a place to start as any.

Steve ambles out the strange two-doored bathroom and flips his head back and forth, trying to remember the direction of the kitchen. He hasn't been here before—one of Eddie's band connections—and Steve's still had a couple beers himself.

He shakes his head and takes a left, relieved when it leads to the stairs. Okay, he sort of knows where he's going now. They had only come upstairs to find the quieter bathroom for Eddie.

As Steve reaches the bottom of the stairs, a faint stir of irritation flashes through him. Eddie just left him behind? That wasn't that nice, even if he was incredibly drunk.

He can hear the din of people chattering just above the music and he follows it, leading him into the half-full kitchen, people dotted around. There's a few pizza boxes scattered around and Steve eyes each of them specifically, looking for the tell-tale wipe of Eddie's greasy fingers. No dice.

Steve wrinkles his nose, spinning around and double checking before he moves on.

If not by the food, then... where?

Steve takes a few steps forward into the living room, his heart beginning to sink and shrivel all at once. There was a miserable feeling attached to looking for his partners at a party, a wallowing and awful memory tied to the feeling.

Steve pushes a hand across his chest roughly, as if trying to shove the feeling away.

Eddie wasn't... her. Eddie wouldn't do that.

But the moment he's thought it, it's stuck in his head. Steve's feet begin to speed up, checking a little more carelessly as he starts to stick his head in different rooms, his hazel eyes jumping around. Not Eddie, not Eddie, not Eddie—so many people and none of them are Eddie.

Until—there. Steve spots a very familiar looking behind as it leans over the back of the couch, the owner of said-behind talking to someone sitting on the couch.

He blinks, just to be sure, but the details come into better focus. There's chains on his belt loops and when he shakes his head, Steve can see the curls he loves to bury his hands into.

Eddie.

Steve's relief pulls him forward, his feet almost stumbling, his mouth pulling into a relieved smile. He puts a hand out, fingers spread, across the leather-clad back.

"Eds," Steve says, relief colouring his voice.

Eddie swings up abruptly, pushing himself off the couch. When he turns, a bit of liquid sloshes out of the beer bottle he's holding.

"Heyyy," The words come out a bit slurred and when he finally stands straight, he doesn't look right at Steve. "Handsssss off the merchandise, buddy."

Steve chuckles, reaching out and plucking the bottle from his boyfriend's grasp. Eddie gawps, an adorable little hiccup interrupting his shocked expression.

"Hey," He says loudly, reaching forward for it fruitlessly as Steve pulls it out reach. "That's mine." Eddie whines.

"You've had more than enough, I think." Steve says. He steals just one gulp of it before he turns at puts it on a nearby table. When he turns back, Eddie is frowning at him, brows pulled together tightly and bottom lip jutting out.

"Listen—" Eddie leans forward, jabbing a finger into Steve's chest. "I dunnowhoyouthinkyouare," The words come out in a one big jumble and Steve frowns.

What? Something sour claws into Steve's chest at the frosty greeting.

"Eddie," Steve says, his hazel eyes wide and worried as his gaze darts between Eddie's squinted face and swaying form.

Steve reaches out to put a hand on his waist, aiming to steady him, but Eddie sees it coming and widens his eyes comically. He swerves back to avoid it, his boots tilting dangerously on the wooden floors. If he was still holding his beer, Steve bets half of it would be on the floor by now.

"Wo-oah," Eddie exaggerates, waving a hand out and batting Steve's outstretched arm away. The rottenness in Steve's chest blooms, rancid and freezing. He sucks in a sharp breath.

"Ed—"

"I—" Eddie says, holding up his hand and waggling one finger at Steve, like he's a naughty schoolboy. His words still have that drunken slur to them.

"—already have a boyfriend, thank you very much. He's much too pretty to be throwing it away for the likes of you, you weasel of a man..." His ludicrous and nonsensical insult trails off under his breath as Eddie's attention is drawn away by a shout across the room.

As he watches Eddie drape himself back over the couch, the sourness between Steve's ribs shifts, transforming into something infinitely sweeter. He lets out a dazed laugh, a wild smile spreading on his face before he can smother it beneath his hand.

I'm dating a lunatic, Steve thinks happily.

He reaches out and steals Eddie's beer once more, taking another large swig before giving it another go.

This time, he sidles up beside Eddie who's engaged back in conversation with one of the guys on the couch, and just waits. It only takes a minute before the dude on the couch seems to realise who Steve's waiting for and he nudges Eddie, gesturing behind him.

Eddie, still bent over the back of the couch, twists only his head to look. This time, the recognition is immediate.

He springs up, pushing the couch forward an inch in his excitement and leaps forward, his hands clawing into Steve's shoulder with a fierce delight.

"Steeeeve," Eddie croons, crowding in close. His hands start moving, fingers searching like curious spiders, fingertips dancing along the sensitive skin of Steve's neck til he's squirming back, laughter betraying him.

"Stop it." He laughs. Steve arrests Eddie's wrists in his hand and Eddie cackles, using the pause to surge forward, kissing him square on the mouth.

Eddie tastes like the beer he's been drinking and Steve barely gets a moment to enjoy it before Eddie's pulling back, leaning forward so they're forehead to forehead.

"I was looking for you." Eddie says, his doe eyes wide. His pupils grow larger the longer he stares at Steve.

Steve grins. "Uh huh. Looking for me between the couch cushions, were you?"

Eddie rears back, his head flipping as he stares back at the couch and then back at Steve. "Nuh uh. I came out the bathroom and you were goooone."

That explains it. Eddie must have left out the other door — and then thought Steve had left him behind and gone hunting for him. Something else settles in Steve's chest, relieved.

"And—" Eddie hiccups. "—and some guy tried to- to freakin' flirt with me. Can you believeee?"

Steve's grin widens by a mile. "Is that so? What you'd tell him?"

"No, of course!" Eddie says, head pulled back as if he's appalled Steve would think otherwise. He shakes his hands out of Steve's grip and drops them, fumbling for a moment to get his fingers into Steve's belt loops.

When he does, he yanks Steve forward a tad too forcefully, their bodies colliding in a way that's more sore than sexy. Eddie continues on as if he doesn't notice. "Even if he was particularly tasty," He murmurs, his lips tracing the column of Steve's throat.

"I let him know, baby." Eddie all but purrs.

And perhaps if the competition Eddie was beating off was literally anyone other than himself, Steve would be right there with him.

Instead, he can't contain his snort of laughter. Eddie was perfect; he was a possessive and drunken dog, barking up the wrong damn tree. Steve loves him.

"You're laughing," Eddie states plainly, even as his doe eyes manage to grow even more round. Steve can't help it, it just makes him laugh more.

"Treason." Eddie declares. Then using the belt loops to keep Steve captive, he leans in and blows a raspberry on his neck.

Steve lets out an unattractive squawk, his laughter melting into Eddie's as he pushes his boyfriend's face away — to which Eddie simply lets himself go limp, his face cradled and held up solely by Steve's hands.

"Christ," Steve says between his laughs, shifting his hand to hold him more tenderly. Eddie smiles dopely, then puckers his lips and closes his eyes.

Steve rolls his eyes, entirely too endeared. "Alright, c'mere," He gives in, leaning and kissing Eddie, short and sweet. When he pulls back, Eddie's eyes are open, starry and gazing up at him. He gives a dreamy sounding sigh. Steve's heart fizzles, like it's full of pop-rocks.

"Ready to go?"

"As long as it's with you, baby." Eddie says, sounding every bit like he means it.

[arcadia-smith]

New romance?

Hockey AU Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Pairing: Hockey player Simon Riley x girlfriend!Reader.

Summary: After an event, Simon's name gazes the tabloids.

Word count: 630

You weren’t the jealous type. You and Simon had been together long enough for that. You knew exactly where you stood with him—right in the center of his world, even if he wasn’t the best at putting it into words.

The TV in your shared apartment was on, muted, while you scrolled through your phone. You already knew what was blowing up online, but curiosity got the better of you. A sports gossip account had posted a grainy, over-zoomed picture of Simon standing on a red carpet next to some actress—tall, blonde, stunning. They were mid-conversation, Simon leaning slightly toward her to hear her better over the event noise. The headline? NHL’s Simon Riley Spotted Getting Cozy with Hollywood Starlet!

You snorted. "Cozy, huh?"

You heard Simon before you saw him, his heavy steps echoing down the hall. He was fresh out of the shower, a towel slung around his neck, wearing a pair of sweats low on his hips. When he spotted you eyeing your phone, he let out a deep sigh.

“So, should I start packing my bags now, or…?” you asked before he could say anything.

"Don't tell me you're readin' that shite."

You scrolled down dramatically, reading aloud, “‘Riley and Hollywood star Mila spotted together in what can only be described as undeniable chemistry—’”

Simon groaned, “For fuck’s sake.”

“‘Sources say—’”

“Bloody who?”

“‘—that the pair looked rather intimate during their conversation, leaving many to speculate that—’”

You turned the screen toward him, the article still open. "Should I be worried?"

Simon rolled his eyes and plopped down beside you on the couch. "Yeah, love. Absolutely terrified. She's already picked out wedding colors."

You smacked his arm lightly. "Don't be an ass."

He chuckled, voice low and raspy. "Y’know, they really like stirrin’ up drama, don’t they?"

"Oh, for sure," you agreed. "They could’ve just said NHL player has a conversation like a normal human being, but where’s the fun in that?"

Simon stretched his legs out, tilting his head toward you. "If I was gonna cheat, d’you really think I’d do it in front of cameras?"

"Wow, what a convincing defense," you teased. "So what did you talk about?"

"Her brother plays hockey. Big fan of the team." He shrugged. "She asked for an autograph."

Your lips twitched. "And you gave her one?"

"Of course. Thought about signin’ it as someone else’s name, just to see what she'd do."

You shook your head with a laugh. "You're impossible."

Simon smirked, reaching over to pull you into his lap. His arms looped around your waist, warm and solid. "You worried, love?"

You played along, tapping your chin in mock contemplation. "I mean… she is gorgeous. And famous. And—"

Simon cut you off by pressing his lips against yours, a slow, lazy kiss. "Not my type," he murmured against your mouth.

You raised a brow. "No?"

He kissed you again, this time with a little more heat. "No," he muttered, fingers trailing up your spine. "My type's sittin’ in my lap, talkin’ nonsense."

You melted just a little, even as you rolled your eyes. "Smooth."

He grinned. "Worked, didn’t it?"

"Maybe."

Simon nipped at your jaw, voice softer now. "Y’know I only have eyes for you, yeah?"

Your fingers carded through his damp hair, the familiar weight of him grounding you. "Yeah, I know."

"Good." He smirked again. "Now, c’mon, let’s give ‘em somethin’ else to talk about."

Before you could ask what he meant, Simon grabbed the phone and snapped a picture of you both—your legs tangled together, his arm wrapped possessively around you, lips grazing your temple. Then, with a shit-eating grin, he posted it.

Within seconds, notifications flooded in. You groaned. "Simon!"

"Oops." He didn’t look sorry at all. "Guess the world knows who I’m really cozy with now."

[jinxvex]

Hiiiii! I love your work! Do you think you could do Vi x reader hcs where the reader is like very day-dreamy? Like head stuck in the clouds a lot? Tysm <33

♱ gf!vi x daydreamy gf!reader ♱

hey!! so excited to put something out 4 violet!!

you could interpret this as a modern!au or arcane!u 😌

cw: sfw & nsfw, dom!vi + sub!r, wholesome at the beginning, vi is an amazing and understanding gf, vi is v flirty, teasing, dirty talk, mild choking/slapping, possessiveness, dumbification, degradation/praise, vi's a bit condescending, etc!!

+ strap usage, she eats you out + uses her fingers!!

♱ vi LOVES the fact that you’re so daydreamy and always in your own world. she appreciates your uniqueness + the way your mind works!

♱ vi thinks you’re so adorable when you slowly trail off in the middle of speaking to her—the vibrant imagery, thoughts, and inner workings of your mind too overwhelming for you to handle! she lets you look off into the distance for a bit before you’re quickly scrambling to apologize for getting lost in your own head (again lol)!!

♱ she’s quick to shut down your apology with a, “nah, babe it‘s okay. take your time, yeah?” + “you in your own head again, huh?” (EVERY SINGLE TIME!)

♱ after boxing/the gym, she often comes home to your shared apartment to you blasting music through your headphones. you’re bopping your head and bouncing your leg at your desk. lost in how the music speaks to you and flows through your veins like a constant electric current. you don’t hear or even notice her until she comes up behind you, wraps her arms around your shoulders, and nuzzles her head into your neck, “whatcha doin’, pretty? what’re you listening to?” + “love comin’ home to you all happy and shit—makes my day sweetheart.”

♱ in public, when you’re walking together, holding hands, and enjoying each other's company in silence, you can’t help but get in your head! your brain buzzing with thoughts about how nice vi’s hand feels in yours and how nice they feel in… other places… all of a sudden, you’re not paying attention to where you’re going and she gets a little stern with you. before you run into anyone or anything she’s telling you to, “watch where you’re goin’, hmm?” + “careful, babe. don’t want you gettin’ hurt now, do we?”

♱ when you're upset, whether it be because you're self-conscious about something or having other negative thoughts, you get sort of locked in your own mind--endless flashes of darkness encompassing your headspace. when this happens she's whispering comforting praises into your ear, "it's okay, princess. 'm here. not goin' anywhere." and she's pulling you into her chest to tell you to, "listen to my heartbeat, come back to me." + "hey. hey, look at me, baby."

♱ vi nudges your cheek with her fingers to get your attention when your attention has strayed away from her, "talkin' to you, babe."

♱ she totally notices when you’re fantasizing about her.

WHAT!! who said that?! 🤭

nsfw incoming...

♱ you and vi love to partake in your separate hobbies while in each other’s presence so when she’s cooking, writing, or boxing in the corner(?), you’re almost always on the other side of the room reading a book. she knows the books you read get a little dirty. when she glances at you from across the room she isn’t surprised to see you staring off into the distance (again) with your book loosely resting in your lap. you’re biting your lip and pressing your thighs together. she smirks knowingly and stops what she’s doing to walk over to you, “what’s got you thinkin’, baby?” + “wanna show me what’s got you so worked up?”

♱ she won’t stop teasing you until you’re reading her the sentence that threw you in for a loop—thinking of her hands and mouth pleasuring you. images of her muscles rippling against your skin as she fucks you into the mattress with her strap momentarily stunning you.

♱ your daydream does become a reality when she's doing just that. minutes later. she's forcing you to make eye contact with her, to give her your full attention and focus when she has you in missionary with your legs propped up on her shoulders. her pace is brutal, plunging her strap deep into your cunt with her hand wrapped around your neck; choking you and holding your head in place so you can't look away.

♱ she's a sucker for dirty talk so you know she's all up in your ear like: "fuck, baby. yeahhh, yeah. look at me when you take this dick, pretty girl." + "don't want you goin' off in your own head when i'm fucking you, need you to see exactlyy how i'm treating this fuckin' pussy."

♱ she will NOT let you cum until she knows for sure that you aren't thinking of anything except for her—she wants your brain to be mush by the time she's done with you. she wants you to let go, fall, and trust that she'll catch you. take care of you.

♱ she's not afraid to rough you up a little if you aren't listening. she'd tap your cheek and tighten her grip on your throat as she stuffs you even fuller; as deep as she can go, "*thrust* look. *thrust* at. *thrust* me." she's drilling you now, "c'mon, babe, can't you follow a simple direction? or are you too cockdrunk to function?" + "yep, thaaat's it, baby."

♱ vi also enjoys eating you out from the back while she shoves her middle and ring finger into your sopping wet cunt. as she eats you out like it's her last meal on earth, tongue zigzagging and sloppily mouthing at your heat, her fingers are curling up against your g-spot. she knows your brain thinks nothing but her because of every whimper, moan, and chant. "yes, yes, fuck yes! right thereee, vi. fuuuck" you're practically screaming at the top of your lungs. not long after she's pulling her mouth off of you and rising up to lean over your back and dig her fingers deeper inside, "there, huh? that's what she needs, isn't it? pussy's swallowing my fingers whole. greedy girl."

feel free to send more reqs about vi!! love her real bad 🤠

[darkstaria]

Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal AU.

Chapter 3:

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 4. Chapter 5.

Chapter 3 is finally here! Hooray! Hope people enjoy this, cuz I'm going to sleep now zzz

Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr

----

A week had passed since that encounter that had sent you running home, and you could only be grateful to yourself that you hadn’t given Tim your number back. He had probably expected that you would have messaged him back by now. Instead, you were going to avoid that cafe for a while.

As if to spite you, Red was currently fluttering about you. Or should you call him Tim? That might make things too confusing. Red it was.

You had looked at the card Tim had given you, and in all honesty, you regretted it. Mainly because of the name on the card.

Tim Drake.

Tim Drake, who is also commonly known as Tim Wayne. The adopted son of Bruce Wayne.

Tim Drake is Red Robin.

You stared down at Red, who had started dozing in your lap.

Did that mean that the Wayne family all were..? No, surely not. You mean, Brucie Wayne as Batman? That felt a little ridiculous. You could definitely see Robin as Damian Wayne though, he had the right energy.

Richard Grayson had ties to acrobats right? Something about a tragedy. Nightwing did perform quite the stunts.

…

It was way too late in the night for these revelations.

There was one way to know for sure though.

“Wing!” You called out, attracting the attention of the bird that had previously been messing around with your stuffed animal. Wing had way too much of a vendetta against your plushie sometimes. Honestly, if he destroyed one of them, you certainly wouldn't be hugging him anymore.

Wing flew over to you, in a graceful arc that included several unnecessary loops. Showoff.

Wing landed on your hand, and you took a deep breath. Stay calm. The weight of Red in your lap gave you a little comfort, keeping you grounded.

“Richard Grayson.” You said, staring.

No reaction. Not even a twitch, Wing just started tweeting cheerfully as if you hadn't said anything of interest.

Maybe Richard Grayson wasn't Nightwing then? Or was it Richie? Although, he could be called by a nickname instead. What nickname would a Richard be called though…? Maybe..

Dic-

A clutter caught your attention, the sound of a window being opened and slid down. Your window.

Uh oh.

You immediately panicked. What? What could you do? You likely only had about a minute or two until the invader located your bedroom, you needed to make a decision quickly. Even as birds, you knew Red and Wing could defend themselves, but were you willing to take the risk?

If you got robbed, that would be awful, but a robber could do so much worse with the knowledge of a vigilante's civilian soulmate.

You'd take the risk. You pick up Red’s prone form, placing him into an empty bag you had laying around. If your life was in danger, you'd simply free them, and all would be okay.

You turn around, aiming to grab Wing. You reach for him, but Wing evades, darting to the left. Frowning, you try and grab him again, but Wing continues to evade, tweeting in joy.

Wing! You felt like screaming, blood racing to your head and flushing you with panic. This was not a game!

You swipe at him, starting to grab at him in increasingly frantic motions. Each movement is skillfully evaded, with Wing adding a flourish to each dodge.

“Stop dodging!” You hiss, whispering as quietly as you could. It was only when you paused in a moment to calm your frustrations that Wing showed you solace. Landing on your head in a smooth movement, Wing gave a little chirp.

Holding your hands to your head, you felt Wing climb on. You lowered him to eye level, taking a second to glare, before suddenly remembering that you had a literal home invader and stuffing Wing alongside Red in your bag. You had just clipped the bag shut when the creak of your door alerted you to their entrance.

Turning, you were beginning to lament the loss of all your earthly belongings when you locked eyes with a familiar face.

Red Robin.

“What..?” You mumble, horrified. Why was Red Robin here, in your house? The only place you could count on. The one sanctuary you had where you never had to worry about getting caught. Where you were safe.

You didn't feel safe anymore.

“Why? Why are you.. in my home?” The words stumbled out, barely registering even as they left your mouth. You had started shaking. When did that happen?

Perhaps noticing how shaken you were, Red Robin had the decency to look ashamed.

“I’m sorry for invading your house.” He began, with an apologetic tone. “I got quite a bit injured while patrolling, I was hoping I could camp out here for a while.” He gestured to his leg, where a grievous scratch bled. He smiled at you, a polite, small thing, as if it would convince you.

No, was your immediate answer.

“Yes.” Was your spoken response. “I guess that will be fine, but don't linger too long, I don't want to be targeted because a vigilante came into my window.” You tried a smile. It felt like a mask. “And I don't know any medical care. I can offer you my first aid kit, but that's about it.”

“That's fine.” Red Robin seemed reassured, happy to be here. “I have some medical supplies of my own, but I'd appreciate it if I could use your medical kit.”

“I'll go get it. Could you go to the kitchen, please? I’d rather not have you bleed out on my bed.”

He chucked. “Sure.” Then he was gone, headed off to your kitchen. He acted as if it was so simple, as if your life hadn't just shattered to pieces all around you. So nonchalant.

You took a moment to catch your breath. It was difficult. Then, you lifted the clip of your bag, checking in on your soul animals. Wing was cuddled up to Red, the two dozing.

You frowned. Red was fine. He was completely calm, fading in and out of sleep. There was no trace of an injury on him at all.

When it came to injuries, soul animals had some quirks. They only reflect injuries if the soulmate found the wound to be serious enough. Because your soulmates were vigilantes, you were plenty familiar with when they were injured or not. Red was not injured. Not in the slightest.

Red Robin’s wound was intentional. Calculated. If it was a genuine issue, Red would be suffering as well. Which meant only one thing.

Red Robin was on an investigation.

And you were the subject.

You took a couple extra minutes to compose yourself, minutes you didn't doubt Red Robin was utilizing to his full extent. You just had to remind yourself, you were a civilian, you had nothing to hide.

He could look everywhere in the house and not discover a thing. The real secret was already contained in your bag. You could not let him find your soul animals. He can see everything else, but that.

It would be really convenient if both Red and Wing suddenly left to visit some other soulmate of yours, but you knew better than to expect that. If anything you'd be lucky to not have some other soul animal of yours show up. Ever since Spoiler and Orphan showed up, they'd been more persistent than usual. Maybe the new bonds had reminded them that they still hadn't met you.

Well, it was time to face the music. Or the Tim, that worked too. You had already wasted enough time.

Shaken, you slowly stood up. You gathered your bearings, breathed.

You could do this.

Opening the door to the kitchen took much longer than usual, you could only blame the nerves. You locked eyes with Red Robin.

You couldn't do this.

“Hey.” He said. He had his own kit open, taking out some bandages. Despite the illusion of busyness, you didn't doubt he had already skulked around your home. “Did you get the medkit?”

Ah-

The medkit. The kit of medicine you had said you'd bring. The very reason you had your precious minutes of safety in your bedroom. The medkit you forgot. Fu-

You darted back into your room, ripping open a cabinet, and yanking the kit out as if it were the cause of your problems, before dashing back over to him. It was a miracle you hadn't tripped on the way over.

Play it cool.

“S-sorry!” You tried. Your heart was beating out of your skull. Could he tell? Did he already know? Was it over?

“Here.” He took the kit from your shaking hands, laying it across the table and opening it. “You said that you didn't know any medical care. Gotham has clinics, but it's a little dangerous to not have any idea of how to treat an injury, I'll show you.”

You felt yourself nod.

No. It couldn't be over. He’s got nothing on you, and will never have anything. You are a normal citizen, you just need to act like it. You didn't live a life separate from the world, hidden from birth, just to get caught.

You noticed a flutter of movement in the darkness behind his shoulder, and stared. After a bit of squinting, you could make out a small figure in the darkness. A bat.

Uh oh.

A rush of horror gripped you. The bat was smaller and slender than the Bat. It was Orphan. You gave a little twitch, a small shake of the head, begging for it to not move. Orphan didn't react.

Red Robin began explaining how to properly cleanse and sanitize wounds. You did your best to pay attention. Somehow, he was a decent teacher. He then moved on to explaining how to properly bandage. You assumed that he was just going to talk you through it. This assumption was broken, as Red Robin instead took your hands in his, and guided them through the correct technique. Once you seemed to have gotten it, he then let you apply them to his leg.

“A little tighter, just like that.”

“Like this?”

“Perfect.”

Why would he let you do this? Aren't the bats supposed to be paranoid? Your thoughts were interrupted by a ruffle of your hair. You looked up, locking eyes with Red Robin. He smiled.

“Well done.”

What the hell was going on.

The only good thing about today was that Orphan still hadn't moved. You almost forgot about it, since Orphan had stayed in complete darkness the whole time. Perhaps Orphan was content just watching?

Ah, but you're getting distracted. Red Robin received his medical care just like he wanted, now it's time for him to leave. And never come back.

“Are you doing any better?” It was a tentative question. Unfortunately you didn't think a ‘get the hell out of here’ would work any better, as much as you wanted to say so.

He nodded. “Yep. I'll head out now, goodbye.” Red Robin stood up, gathering his medkit up and placing it in his utility belt. He vaulted up to your kitchen window, sliding it open once again and climbing up to it. Now you knew what window it was, you were absolutely fixing that shut.

A glance in Orphan’s corner told you that it was still there, still watching. In that aspect, the soul animal was rather like the Bat. A stalker. Still, you'd take it.

You had never been so glad to watch someone leave before. He didn't let you enjoy your happiness for long, however, as he turned back to you at the last moment. “Oh, by the way”. He began, as if you weren’t screaming inside.

“I'll be coming over again in a few days, possibly next week.” He glanced at some gadget you didn't care about as he said this, nonchalant.

What.

“W-why?” You stuttered, completely bewildered. He had definitely checked out your house, there was nothing to be found! For what insane reason would he be coming back for?!

“It’s not safe for any Gothamite to lack basic first aid training. Your parents should have taught you better.”

The world was becoming red, you hid a clenched fist behind your back. “That's nothing that a first aid course wouldn't teach me, really, it'd be fine if you didn't come over.”

You wanted to outright protest, you really did. But you couldn't. Drawing any excessive attention would be your downfall. It'd be much easier, if Red Robin would pick up that you clearly didn't want him here!

And besides, your parents were busy enough, paying to keep you safe, hidden from the world. They have done enough.

“A course can't teach you like a hero can. I'll know when your in, so, keep an ear out.” Of course. Thanks Tim, so much.

So now you had the choice between staying at home wherein Red Robin could show up at any moment and find out your soulmates, or you could leave home and get caught with having vigilante soul animals outside. Great, what wonderful options.

You're about to protest, give a better argument, at least something. But you're interested by a squawk coming from your bedroom. You realised what happened immediately. One of the robins had finally woken up.

He needed to get out. Now.

“Okay fine, but please leave. Having a vigilante hanging out of my window is even worse than being inside my house.” You gave up. It didn't matter what concession you had to give, you needed him out immediately.

Red Robin had the audacity to chuckle, as if you had made a joke. He lifted his hand in a wave, before vanishing with a swoosh.

As if he had never been there to begin with.

A shaky sigh left you, your knees losing strength. But you snapped back to attention a second later. It was time to attend to your soul animals.

Orphan landed on your shoulder as you made your way over to your bedroom. You reluctantly petted it, sapped of your usual enthusiasm. At least it knew of subtlety, unlike certain soul animals you had.

Maybe it was time to finally get some sleep.

[stsgluver]

tags. gojo x reader, established relationship, fluff, non-sorcerer!au, you+gojo+geto+shoko all teens, slice of life

“move.” shoko tried to shove gojo off of the small bench in the photo booth, inadvertently almost pushing you off too as you sat perched on his lap. the blue eyed male gasped, his hold on your waist tightening as he shoved shoko back.

“don’t push me!”

you giggled at their bickering, geto rolling his eyes as he remained trapped between the wall and shoko's knee that was on the bench between him and gojo.

"this wasn’t designed for four people," geto pointed out the obvious. it barely had enough room for two so when the two boys had decided to crash what was meant to be a strip of photos of just you and shoko, it had been a struggle to even fit all four of you in.

it didn't help that two of you well exceeded six foot.

shoko scoffed as she pointed her thumb towards the curtain, "yeah gojo get out."

your boyfriend shook his head, dropping his chin down onto your shoulder as he whined like the child he was behaving as, "why me? baby defend me."

you patted the top of his head condescendingly, "i'm sorry but you're just too tall." whether it be his or shoko's lap, you knew you'd be comfortably in the photos.

gojo's head shot up and he pointed accusingly at geto who looked like he longed to be out of this tiny box that was way too hot. "he’s the same height."

"yeah but he’s not as annoying so he doesn’t take up as much space," shoko argued.

gojo threw up his hands at that, hurt by your betrayal and shoko, "that doesn’t even make sense!"

geto, having given up on there ever being a peaceful resolution between the two, paid the fee for the booth. he tapped shoko's arm (who was still standing awaiting gojo to move off the bench) and pointed towards the camera her back was covering. "the photos are about to start."

begrudgingly - and muttering several choice words at gojo - shoko settled on kneeling down on the metal floor. she held up a middle finger towards gojo who copied the action back towards her. you looped your arms around your boyfriend's neck, smiling towards the camera as the familiar shutter went off several times.

"that 100% only got my forehead," shoko complained and geto gestured for her to sit on his lap as you were on gojo's.

she agreed, quickly swapping positions. you'd dropped your arms from around gojo's neck so just before the camera went off, shoko leaned across, pulling you into a side hug as you both smiled for the camera.

geto had been alright and in view, laughing on the other side of shoko as she'd moved herself to specifically be in the way of gojo as an act of revenge for not giving up his seat.

"shoko ieiri!" gojo reached for her smoothed shoulder-length hair, messing it up by ruffling his large hand through it.

to no one's surprise, she did not take kindly to the offence and the next two photos went off with geto holding back shoko and gojo hiding behind you.

laughing, you quickly slipped off of gojo's lap and stepped out into the fresh air. there had been no screen to show you how the photos would come out, just a hope that you were all in the frame.

it took another ten seconds or so but two strips of the same four photos dropped down and you grabbed them without hesitation. shoko appeared on your right, peering over your shoulder as the two of you snickered at the awful photos.

the first one was the only one where all of your faces were visible; geto looked between shoko and gojo exasperatedly as they held up their middle fingers whilst you were smiling brightly. the second one had you, geto and shoko grinning whilst only gojo's forehead was visible along with his white hair that had been pushed back by his dark sunglasses.

the next two were a display of chaos - the first of the two had managed to capture shoko's less than pleased expression and gojo with his hand still messing up her hair. the second one then had geto's arms around shoko's middle whilst gojo used you as a human shield, trying to hide his large frame behind your much smaller one extremely unsuccessfully.

you slipped one into your bag and handed the other to geto who would probably put it up in his car behind the mirror.

shoko held her hand out towards gojo expectantly, "you're paying for me and yn to have another go."

[urhoneycombwitch]

heart like a hearth

roommate!Eddie x roommate!Reader it's the holidays, and goddamn everyone is home- you and Eddie haven't had a moment alone in weeks. good thing you know a boy with a van and an alibi...

foreword: Roommates!au cinematic universe expands: extended family unlocked! YES this was supposed to come out over the holidays NO I won’t be changing the setting but don’t worry it’s not overly/grossly Christmas-y. as one anon astutely pointed out, this Reader tends to be the most OCD of all my Reader iterations so I hope her actions/line of thinking reflects this disorder and not just due to being an ass, yanno? happy readin’ <3

cw: drinking, smoking, weed usage, R is related to Max (no specificity), R is referred to with a few fem nicknames (girl, princess etc.), van fucking (secluded spot!), fingering, oral (R receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected PiV, brief argument, angst (resolved), R plays feelings close to the chest 

wc: 8.1k

___

Eddie’s been shockingly well-behaved recently, and you’d almost think it’s due to the looming threat of a Naughty List if it weren’t for the simple fact that he hasn’t had time to behave otherwise. 

The last few weeks leading up to Christmas have been, so far, a whirlwind of constant noise and color. Your and Eddie’s apartment is conveniently central enough from various friends and family, and the two of you have been blindingly busy playing hosts. 

Your cousin, Max, came by train last week, along with her best friend, El, and a ragtag group of Eddie’s former D&D minions. Three whole days of cheesy holiday crafts, winter movies, and braiding the girls’ hair while Eddie ran a gripping oneshot campaign; giving way to late evenings, El and Max sharing the pullout couch while the boys took up what little was left of the floorspace like cozy little sardines.

No time after the kids were sent off, either- Robin was insistent on making you a proper boozy eggnog from her heirloom recipe, which had Nancy offering to bring her famous chocolate crinkles, and just like that, you were signing up to throw another party.

The Best Ever Eggnog Bash (Robin’s titling) has been raucous fun so far- Eddie paid all the neighbors off with various gifts of booze, weed, and/or Wheeler’s cookies, so last night, the karaoke machine got turned up to ten and much spiked (Best-Ever) eggnog was imbibed. 

Everyone was either too inebriated or too tired to drive afterwards, so an impromptu sleepover was called for- blankets tugged from all corners of the apartment again to make soft sleeping pallets for Robin and Nancy, while the rest of the boys (Jon, Argyle, and Steve) passed out like a pile of puppies on the couch.

In the morning, it only seemed natural to keep the party going- Robin had planned to stay through the weekend, anyways, and everyone else was loath to cut short their holiday break. 

Around lunchtime, Jeff and Gareth showed up with instruments in hand, expecting a rehearsal session but were instead greeted with plates of grilled cheese and a knotted ball of lights that no one had been able to untangle yet. 

They’re in the corner of the living room, now, bickering over the sound of a Crosby record as Jeff loops the string of lights around Gareth’s waiting hands. 

Jon and Steve are sharing a joint on the couch, giggling at a test pattern on the TV screen; Vicki, Robin, and Argyle are in various states of lap-sitting and stool sharing at the breakfast bar, a wasteland of cookie decorating ephemera spread across the counter.

“I think we did this backwards,” Nancy says, thoughtful and amused, passing you a freshly-cooled plate of gingerbread men. “Should’ve saved the alcohol for after the fine motor skill activities.”

“And deny the elves this simple joy?” You reply, sardonic and equally amused, setting the plate in front of your friends. Robin’s eyes light up, and Argyle nearly spills a whole flute of tequila in his haste to stake claim.

“The frosting will make you sick if you keep eating it,” Nancy cautions, but Robin’s already stuck the spoon in her mouth, pulling her choice of cookie in close and muttering with dogged determination to a blushing Vicki- “Gonna make you the best gingergirl ever. Seriously. It’s gonna blow your socks off.”

Longsuffering, Nancy sighs and leaves to check the oven. Eddie whirls into the living room hoisting a clear tub of board games above his head that rattles as he shakes it, truimphant- “Found it. I’m about to Dutch Blitz you into the next century, Harrington.”

“I wanted to play Boggle,” Steve whines, but his protests are quickly swallowed by the swarm of helping hands rearranging the living room; all the furniture gets pushed to the edges while Eddie deals in players on the carpet. 

Something about Eddie is particularly magnetic today- he’s wearing this maroon knit sweater gifted from his uncle, lean biceps flexing under soft fabric whenever he leans to place a card. The deep red is a great color on him, contrasting so nicely with his wild dark curls and glinting silver rings; so nicely, in fact, that you’re driven to distraction, ogling him openly from your spot mixing icing by the sink.

The thing about Eddie behaving himself? It’s kind of driving you crazy. 

You’re used to the bickering, the good-natured arguments, Eddie pushing your buttons until you snap or bend. You were expecting at least some skirting of the Rules- sneaking into your room after all your guests were asleep, maybe leaving a hickey that couldn’t be explained away- but he hasn’t progressed past fleeting, friendly touches and interactions.

(Well. Except the other night at the bar. But you’re sure everyone was too tipsy to see under the table, his hand inching up your skirt...)

And then, with stunning clarity- you realize you miss him. Like, you actually, truly, miss Eddie. He’s sat on a carpet just a few steps away, profile softly backlit from a nearby candle, and you’re aching to be closer.

As if tuned in to your frequency, Eddie looks up to catch your eye. Time and noise fade into the background of your thoughts; for a moment, it’s just you and him.

Just a few more days, you think, trying for telepathy. Then it’ll be just us again.

He gives you a wink from across two rooms, and the grin breaks on your face before you can think to stop it.  

___

Later in the afternoon, you’re using the only available sink in the bathroom to wash frosting from your hands when Eddie pokes his head around the partially-open door.

“Hey. We gotta go to PJ’s.”

He’s wearing his black leather jacket, your puffed winter coat folded over one arm, ringed hand curled around the doorframe as you finish drying your hands.

“I can do a snack run.” Agreeable, you take the proffered coat to put on. PJ’s Corner Store is less than two blocks away, but if you send Eddie out alone into the big world with a simple task there’s no telling when he’ll be back. “I’ll be quick, you stay and host.”

This last word ends on a tease as you zip the warm coat up to your chin, Eddie following your lead into the hallway even as he shakes his head. “Nah, that’s no good We’re out of cigarettes, too- stole Emerson’s last one.”

“Hey,” Gareth squawks from the kitchen, mouth full of gingerbread. 

“You shouldn’t be smoking ‘em, anyways, kid,” Eddie says, sagely, sticking the filter of a fresh cig between his teeth even as he lectures. 

“Well apparently we’re going to PJ’s,” you announce, hooking a thumb at Eddie behind you in a gesture of it can’t be helped, while inside you’re buzzing with the possibility of walking with just Eddie. Two blocks there and back, all that quiet snow…

There’s some protest at both hosts abandoning the party until everyone learns that the corner store has snacks, and then you’re fielding a barrage of requests and organizing spare change and crumpled bills into your pocket.

Eddie meets you by the front door, walking backwards while giving Nancy strict instructions for holding down the fort- “Don’t let those shitheads in my room, Wheeler, I’m counting on you to preserve state secrets-” -then he reaches past your head for the coat rack, pulling the length of Robin’s green scarf from its hook before wrapping it snug around your neck.

As he tucks the frayed ends into your coat, you notice the glint of van keys that he must’ve palmed silently from the other hook. 

“Thought we were going to PJ’s,” you whisper. 

Eddie pulls his hands away but not before trailing his fingers against the bare side of your neck, leaving a cascade of goosebumps in their wake, and replies in the same low, conspiratorial tone- “Who says we’re not?”

Finally, after scattered last requests you’re borne out into the cold on a wave of cheery goodbyes. The second the door shuts, Eddie’s tugging at your coat sleeve.

“Let’s go.” The order is gentle but weighty enough that your swirling questions are quelled, for the time being- you follow close on Eddie’s heels down the building stairs, boots crunching into the layer of fresh snow as he leads you across the parking lot.

At the van, Eddie carves ice from the windshield, strong arm moving the scraper in a solid arc. You hazard a glance at the apartment windows, an internal sigh of relief when you realize Eddie had parked on the west side out of view. 

“Not really sure what your angle is, here.” You’re not trying to poke the bear, this time, you’re just genuinely confused and a little on edge, unused to taking a backseat where planning is concerned. 

Eddie doesn’t answer, and you follow him to the other side of the windshield as he continues scraping, talking all the while. “I just mean- we can’t be gone long. Nancy’s responsible enough but if she starts drinking, too, then all bets are off. And it’ll probably look weird, you know, if it’s just you and me gone for so long. And we really should get snacks-”

“We will,” Eddie says, interrupting for the first time to open the passenger side door. “In you get.”

Eddie loads you into the van (rather like a dog, you think, petulantly clicking your seatbelt), then gets in himself, turning on the engine to blast vented heat throughout the van. 

The speakers crackle to life, and as Eddie turns onto the main road you fiddle with the radio dial until soft, instrumental Christmas music plays on low- a welcome respite from the weekend’s cacophony of noise.

You’re a little sad to be missing out on what would’ve been an extended walk; the roads are clear, and in less than two minutes, PJ’s appears down the street like a beacon, lights from the OPEN sign glowing against a backdrop of white.

Sad, that is, until Eddie drives past PJ’s.

“Eddie.”

A direct response to the note of warning in your voice, Eddie keeps his eye on the road but reaches for your hand (previously, tightened into a fist around your jeans). 

Once you allow his fingers to weave between yours, Eddie uses the stoplight as an opportunity to turn towards you, thumb brushing over the tops of your knuckles as he asks, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” The answer comes so easily- you didn’t even have to consider an alternate option. Your trust is not something simply given, and Eddie knows it; there is still this lingering part of you, though, that wants to push back.

As a sort of self-protection, a longing for the familiar, you ready an argument. “But-”

“Nope!” Eddie interrupts, tugging at your hand in his grasp, almost jolly in his denial. “No comebacks. No skirting. I wanna hear you say it.”

The light turns green, but with no cars in at least a mile radius, Eddie’s foot stays firm on the brake, his bright, intense gaze fixed on you. 

You have a sudden urge to dash yourself against the passenger side window, or maybe to jerk the car door open and roll out onto the dirty snow of the sidewalk. A stifling, panicked feeling that would be overwhelming if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie is watching you so tenderly, even while the wheels of your mind work overtime.

A brief few seconds that feel like an age, and then, with a squeeze of his hand, words that take shape and form in a voice quiet but sure- “I trust you, Eddie.”

His grin is wide, even as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, dropping your hand in favor of the wheel as the van resumes its speed. “Atta girl. Wanna show you a place.”

The van cuts a smooth path up a sloping westward street, warm holiday lights from the row of houses reflecting colors in the snow. There’s another stop sign at the top of the hill, and Eddie turns left again, steadily climbing, until the road flattens out.

A road sign declaring DEAD END looms and then passes your window; at the same time, the paved road turns to gravel. Not for the first time, you’re grateful that Eddie learned to drive on the harsh backroads of his native Tennessee hometown- it means he’s adept at guiding the van through a wintered forest to get to the other side.

The other side turns out to be well worth the wait. The snowy boughs of thickened trees give way to a clearing, and Eddie parks a safe distance away from the edge of the hill while still close enough for you to take in the view.

You unbuckle, leaning into your forearms on the dash for a better look, a soft exhale of exclamation- “Wow.”

It’s a spectacular sight- the city sprawls in shining white, pinpricks of winking lights everywhere that make the whole thing look like a blanket of sequins.

You’re keenly aware of the fact that Eddie isn’t looking at the view, he’s watching you take it in for the first time; you throw him a bone, flopping back into your seat with a sweet smile just for him- “Killer spot. Almost worth the adrenaline of thinking you were gonna axe murder me the whole time.”

Eddie scoffs, shrugging his jacket off and tossing it into the depths behind his seat. “You know I prefer a sword as my murderous weapon of choice. Smoke?”

A hand-rolled joint sits between his fingers, your arched eyebrow in response, incredulous- “Seriously? How much time do you think we have?”

“At least three hours,” Eddie says, confidently, straightening his legs into the footwell to fish the lighter from his front jeans pocket. “I showed Nance where the weed brownies are and told her to go crazy.”

With the movement of his legs, the red sweater rides up, a strip of tantalizing milky stomach and smattered trail of dark hair immediately burning itself into your brain. You swallow against the dryness in your throat, questioning even as he lights up- “When the hell did you have time to bake?”

“I have my ways.” Eddie inhales. Smoke pours from his nostrils, the whites of his teeth when his head swivels to catch your eye. “Made a batch while you and the kids were out. Our dear guests will be blind to time, trust me.”

“I do,” you insist, hot shock of fluster in your chest, shedding your own jacket that joins Eddie’s with a harsh throw before deciding you actually can’t let this one go. “I just… did you forget El’s dad is a cop? Like, badge and everything.”

“So?” 

If Eddie wasn’t smoking, you’d be half as distracted- he’s in his natural element, knees spread, head lolling on the seatback, a hazy cloud around the loose black curls that settle and shift on his shoulders. 

“So, you should maybe be more careful. You’re really not worried about getting caught with contraband out on your- on our counters, for that matter?”

It’s an argument quickly losing steam as the air grows heady with weed; Eddie takes another drag before reaching to stick the end of the joint between your lips. “Why would I worry when you’ve clearly got that covered for the both of us?”

Your brows knit together, a thunderous expression fixed on its target as you take a drag, baring your teeth on the exhale. Eddie chuckles, eyes already lightly red-rimmed as he watches, coos, “My little dragon.”

“I’m serious.” The joint is pinched between your own fingers now, but when Eddie reaches for it, you move quicker, holding it out of reach. He pouts, draping himself with dramatics over his armrest as you shake your head- “Eddie.”

He acquiesces, a goofy, deep forward-tipped bow that sends tendrils of his hair swinging across the knees of your jeans, one of his big hands wrapping around your upper thigh to steady himself. “Sweetheart. Y’know I always kid-proof my shit. I solemnly swear my allegiance to your best judgement.”

Eddie knows just what to say and do to diffuse your temper- you can’t be mad or annoyed with the crown of his head practically in your lap, supplicative and good-natured. 

You take another lungful of smoke, this one traveling direct to the contours of your brain, dampening the stress and lighting up the sensation of Eddie’s hand on your leg.

“Bring me here just to smoke?” Your free hand lifts, sets itself on the top of Eddie’s head- you note the way his shoulders stiffen slightly, the way his fingers curl tighter into the doughy flesh of your thigh. “Or did you have other, more nefarious intentions?”

Eddie dips so low his lips touch just near his thumb, warm breath of his groan seeping into your skin even despite the layer of denim. His other hand grasps your hip, subtly pulling you closer to the edge of your seat. “Yeah. I intend to break Rule Two in a major way.”

Oh, right. The rules. ‘Apartment as neutral territory’ being one of them. 

The joint sputters when you take a final hit, a small hiss when you snuff the end into the ashtray tucked snugly in a cupholder, leaning over the expanse of Eddie’s stretched spine notched through his sweater. “The van counts in my book. As far as neutrality goes.”

Perking up like a kid at Christmas, Eddie lifts his head, still half in your lap but chocolate eyes shining with hope (and no small amount of lust)- “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

It’s all the encouragement Eddie needs to make his move, pulling with intention now until you’re out of your seat and in his lap, knees on either side of his hips, pelvis settling into the crook of his own where a familiar hardness can be felt.

Eddie attaches himself to your neck, kissing desperately down the column as you arch into him, hands roaming down your back, another breaching past the hem of your top to feel your ribs.

“Fuck.” Already breathy and it’s been ten seconds. It should be embarrassing but it simply isn’t, not with the way Eddie’s finding his way to your bra, cupping and squeezing over the soft fabric like it’s all he’s been thinking about. “What’s got you so worked up?”

“Been weeks, princess.” His breath slides hot over the wet marks he’s leaving, teeth nipping at your collarbone, a soft groan when your hands find their way back to his hair, fisting around the soft anchor of his curls. 

Eddie’s other hand not busy with your breast slides to the front of your jeans, a deft maneuver as he pops the button and slides his fingers past the elastic of your underwear; a hoarse, choked moan when he feels the slick accumulated there.

In awe, he draws his hand up and out, leaning back just to hold it up for the both of you to see in the soft backlighting of the dash. As his ringed fingers separate, stickiness glistens and webs between the digits. 

Chest heaving, cheeks burning, you shrug, feigning casual even with fistfuls of his hair in your grasp- “Like you said. It’s been weeks.”

Eddie puts his hand back where it belongs, between the apex of your thighs that automatically try to snap closed as his fingers hit against your clit like a pulsing homing beacon, just for him. He works you up quickly, panting and wet noises the only companion to the wintry silence, like you’re the only two people in the whole city.

He slips two fingers past your entrance, curling them just right, hitting against that spongy spot that makes your legs tremble and pulls a warbled moan from the back of your throat. 

Your arms resting on his shoulders spasm with the mounting pleasure, unintentionally bringing Eddie’s face in line with your breasts (an angle he’s more than happy to take, giving your other breast some mouthy attention through the layers).

“I’m- oh, fuck me- fuck, Eddie. I’m close.” 

Your body responding far faster than normal (it really has been weeks, after all), the falling is fast approaching, heel of Eddie’s pumping hand hitting perfectly against that fizzing bundle of nerves. 

That tight resolve is worming its way in- you don’t want this to end. You want Eddie’s mouth on your chest, his fingers warmed to your core temperature, you want it always.

He can tell, because he always can, when you’re holding back; the small, subtle ways in which your body stiffens and tries to restrain itself. 

Eddie tries to play stern, even as his cock throbs painfully, pinned under your squirming thigh- “Don’t hold back, sweetheart. You know I’ll give you another one. C’mon. Let it go.”

It’s all the encouragement you need. The coiling tension snaps in a sparking, roiling heat, gushing around Eddie’s steady and quick tempo; hopefully this spot is as soundproof as it feels, out here at the edge of the world, a sharp, whining cry as you come and fall apart. 

The aftershocks cause full-body tremors, while Eddie soothes with hands and voice, murmuring praises and calling you names that make your head spin like “good girl” and “sweet thing”.

Panting, you manage to lift your forehead off Eddie’s while his hands drop to your hips again- he looks fucking wrecked. Hair sticking up at the back thanks to your handiwork, pupils blown so wide the black is swallowing the gentle brown, a blush of pink at his cheeks. With a crooked smile, he asks- “Gonna let me top this time?”

A call and response, one that shakes a giggle from your shivery lungs- “I’ll think about it.”

Eddie gasps in phony surprise. “Wow, it really is Christmas.”

Rolling your eyes, stamina returning, you pat the tops of Eddie’s shoulders before using them to push yourself from his lap. The cry of his protest is short lived once he realizes you’re just moving to the back of the van, arranging the two discarded jackets for extra padding.

You make quick work of your shirt and have just shoved the waist of your jeans down to mid-thigh when a loud thunk startles you into looking up- in his eagerness to get back here with you, Eddie’s foot got caught in his seatbelt.

He curses, lying flat on the floor of the van looking like a gangly marionette while trying to yank his foot free. Your laughter has him twisting to watch, head tilting back to try and catch your eyes until he lurches free with an oof. 

Disentangled on his hands and knees, Eddie frowns when he sees the kicked-aside pile of your jeans and top, and starts with whiny reproach- “Heyyy. I was supposed to do that part. You-”

In a single swift move, you twist the clasp of your bra and shove it off, revealing the full sight of your breasts to the end of Eddie's stopped sentence. He gets with the program after that, expeditious to the point of humor, stripping down to just boxer shorts as you lie back on your elbows, body molding to the comfort of padded flooring. 

“That sweater really does look insane on you,” you comment, the rich red a blur as it’s flung to the corner. “Couldn’t stop staring, earlier.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie’s brows waggle a suggestive dance as he crawls forward, stretching out over your supine form, kissing between the valley of your breasts. “I’ll send Uncle Wayne my regards.”

“Maybe no blood relative talk right now,” you gasp out, his lips forming a suction over your left nipple.

A wet pop as he moves to the other, considering- “Probably a good call.”

In what is quickly becoming a familiar facet of sex with Eddie, he can’t seem to stay away from your pussy for long. Ever since the first time you fucked, Eddie’s been lightly obsessed with figuring out your body, all the ways in which it can tick and sing for him alone- and he’s proven to be a quick study. 

Drawn like a magnet, his lips leave damp patches as he kisses his way down your torso, across your stomach; you’re heaving with unsteady, anticipatory breaths as Eddie’s teeth catch at the band of your undies, as his hands pull-slip them down your thighs and off. 

You’ve never felt more well and truly fucked, in every sense of the word, than when Eddie’s mouth is on your cunt. 

It’s an art form, really- the particular attention he pays to all the small hotspots you didn’t even realize were a thing: the bony bridge between inner thigh and pelvis where your femoral artery whooshes in response to his canines; the tender skin just under your weeping hole that makes everything clench when his tongue deftly prods. 

Fucked, as in where the hell else am I ever gonna have it this good; conversely, fucked as in can’t possibly hold onto that thought with his tongue where it is.

His hands can never agree on a favorite place, usually taken to roaming about your body- this time, his right rests solid on the softness of your stomach, keeping the rolling wave of your body at the mercy of his lips while the other hand squeezes the fat of your upper thigh in a tight grip. 

It’s impossible to stop the cacophony of sounds that spill out, nearly drowning out the slick noises of Eddie familiarizing himself with the inside of your cunt; sharp gasps, moans, a cry as he dips back in, out again, thighs shaking, closing around the silver hoops that line the shell of Eddie’s ears. 

When his clever mouth moves up to pull the aching bead of your clit into a suction, the space between your ears goes white as the damn snowscape outside.

“Jesus fuck, Eddie. Oh, my god- don’t stop. Please don’t stop, that feels-”

In response, Eddie moans, sucking harder, taking his hand from your thigh to fit two fingers into you, wall of muscle swallowing him greedily. Your spine arches from the padded floor, heels digging in where your legs are slung over Eddie’s shoulders, hand burying itself in the soft crown of Eddie’s hair. 

“Oh- fuck, fuck, Eddie- Eddie, Eddie…”

There’s a distant awareness that you’re babbling but you know Eddie likes it, loves that he’s the one making you fall apart past the tight boundary of sound you usually keep; the pads of his fingers coast against the front wall of your cunt once, twice, and your second orgasm of the evening hits with the force of a freight train. 

The pleasure wracks through your frame, fevered flush sparking down to the tips of your toes as it moves through your seizing muscles. Your hips jolt upwards, a pleasant counter pressure when Eddie’s hand on your stomach stays firm, keeping your pelvis aligned so there’s not a moment away from his mouth. 

Eddie’s tongue draws out the feeling on your pulsing clit while his fingers stay at that perfect angle, driving into you with the same fast-patterned stroking that keeps your rapture spiraling. The pleasure starts to ebb but still he laps at you, head shaking back and forth like a dog, pinning your wrist to the floor when you squirm and seize up, foggy and helpless to the flow of euphoria. 

He pauses, finally, your body going lax the instant his mouth leaves to start kissing his way back up your stomach. In the waning light from the back van windows, Eddie’s chin is shimmering with your slick.

You have a sudden, desperate need to kiss it off him. Rule Number Four be fucking damned, you want to kiss this boy, full on the mouth. Unbelievable you’ve both stuck to it for so long- the desire welling within is something two orgasms can't begin to touch.

Would it be so bad… your heart pounds, blood chorus singing through your veins as Eddie gets closer, crawling up your body. Your better judgement is not at play here, dizzy and sick with affection, reaching up to touch the black-inked wyvern on his bicep, tangling the fingers of your other hand into the chain of the swinging guitar pick necklace.

The interior of the van has warmed with the heat of your combined bodily movements, but when Eddie shoves his boxers down and off you could swear the temperature spikes three degrees at least.

Eddie’s mostly focused on both of your lower halves, a ringed hand at the ditch of your knee pushing it towards your chest, spreading you open that much further to line up at your entrance- so he doesn’t see the way you’re looking at him. The way your eyes are drinking in every bead of sweat, every contour of his bowed head and tight shoulders.

With his other hand planted on the floor of the van just by your ear, Eddie uses the extra stability to drag his cock through your soaked folds, using your spend to coat the heavy tip and generous length. 

The hand under your knee cinches tight, Eddie hissing through his teeth- “Shit. So wet. S’all for me, sweet thing? Hm?”

“Yeah.” You’re struck dumb with wanting, unable to play coy, urging Eddie in closer with a heel at the small of his back. “All yours. Please-”

A sharper tug than you intend shortens the silver lead, hauls Eddie’s face shockingly close to your own, his breath puffing out tantalizingly close to your lips, lashes blinking rapidly in surprise against your cheek. 

“Okay,” Eddie murmurs, voice husked, sheathing himself into your cunt with achingly slow precision. “Okay, sweetheart. All mine.”

His forehead bumps gently into yours with each small thrust as he tests the waters, holding back even still, making sure your body is ready (a moot point as you feel wet enough to fill an inflatable pool by now). 

The thick head of his cock slides against that innermost spot, your knees rising to cage in the sides of Eddie’s torso; he lifts his head from yours just far enough to be able to see your face when his thrusts pick up intensity. 

Somewhere, there’s a loose hinge in the van that squeaks with each movement, grounding you with each rock of Eddie’s hips, each push and pull and delicious drag of his throbbing cock. Other noises, too: like your open-mouthed moaning, and the short ones Eddie makes each time he slams into you, exhale of breath halfway between a grunt and a sigh, his dark eyes still dancing over your face.

The pleasure is building again, everything mounting and climbing up to that peak. Eddie chokes out a “fuck” as the channel of your cunt squeezes him vice-like, hips faltering, rhythm skipping beats. 

It’s impossible to hold on to any one thought, fragments swirling along with all those firing synapses- the fresh layer of snow on the roads, coating the pine trees, the slatted roofs. Eddie’s chipped Garfield mug next to yours on the counter at home. 

Eddie’s fringed bangs, stuck to his forehead with sweat; the mole on his left peck, the freckle above his second rib; Eddie’s lips, the bottom one plush and dark from being bitten and abused by his own front teeth; Eddie’s lips-

In the end, you’re not sure if it’s the pull of your hand in the chain, or the fact that Eddie was already ducking down towards you again. 

What you do know is that it feels a whole lot better coming on Eddie’s cock when his mouth is on yours. 

As far as first kisses go, this one is sloppy, wet with spit and tasting of your cum, Eddie’s noise of shock quickly turning into a vibrating groan as he kisses you back. His tongue is still coated in a layer of your slick but once you suck that away you finally get a pure taste, for the first time, of him. Of Eddie. 

It’s this thought that freefalls you headlong into orgasm, taking Eddie with you, bottom lip taking the pinch of Eddie’s teeth as he comes, too, warmth blooming as his cock spits out weeks’ worth of pent-up release. 

“Fucking hell,” Eddie says against your lips, enjoying the novel feeling while trying to regain his breath. “Jesus christ. You okay? Was that- I mean, it was good?”

In the honeyed afterglow, you press a palm into Eddie’s cheek, relishing in the fact that you can feel his smile when you reply, honest, “Very good. The best.”

As if unsure he’s allowed to now that the moment has passed, Eddie doesn’t kiss you on the lips again, instead planting a chaste but no less adoring one on your cheek. Carefully, he sits up, then helps disentangle your body from the weave of his own. 

Your head swims as you take the proffered hand to sit up, arms automatically crossing over your chest; Eddie digs through the clothes pile and offers you things one at a time; underwear, bra, a sock, then the other, quiet and attentive until you’re fully dressed.

The dampness between your thighs is vaguely uncomfortable but nothing can be done about it until you’re back at the apartment. You sit cross-legged on the padding of Eddie’s coat, blinking at the boy gathering his clothes until he catches you and grins back, softly. 

Eddie asks, like he can read your mind, “Still okay?” 

At the base of your throat, something stings. “Um. I don’t know.”

Eddie’s mass of black curls pops through the opening of his sweater, which he shifts to jam his arms into. “Don’t know if you’re okay? Or…”

The sentence hangs in the air as Eddie looks at you, partially dressed in his boxers and Christmas sweater, looking flushed and curious and adorable. The stinging moves to the corners of your eyes, fingers tangling into each other with nerves and plummeting hormones. 

“I’m okay, I’m just- I’m just sorry.”

Eddie snorts, like the idea is ridiculous, shaking the wrinkles out of his jeans- “For what? Being crazy hot? Can’t fault you for that, babe, kind of the whole point.”

The tears that are threatening to spill aren’t allowing you to join in on the jokes, not yet. Same as earlier, your voice quavers, brows drawing together as you stare at your twisting hands- “Sorry for kissing you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Eddie’s tone is faux chipper, like kissing you is a totally normal occurrence that didn’t just blow his world open, doing an awkward crunch-wiggle forward to get his jeans on. “The day I accept an apology for one of your kisses is the day I should be sent to the guillotine. Without trial.”

The brand of his lips hasn’t left yet, your tongue poking out without permission to swipe over your bottom lip, skin buzzing and still tasting like him. “We- I should at least try to stick to the rules.”

Was the kiss your doing, though? The way he was looking at you, just before you pulled him in- almost like he was waiting for it. Waiting to kiss you- 

Still in a jovial post-sex mood, Eddie buttons his pants and perches on a spare amp box in the corner, boots sitting between his socked feet. “Sure thing. Just, ah, running the stats here- I don’t think the evidence stacked against our very epic but very secret dalliance is bound to be hidden for long.”

“Right.” This, at least, is a normal topic of conversation, hearkening back to the times of ten minutes ago before a kiss fucked everything sideways. 

You lift a hip to pull Eddie’s coat out from underneath, folding it over an arm just to have something to do.  “Well, there’s always an alternate explanation. I’m getting good at those, y’know- borrow a tasteful scarf to hide hickeys. ‘I was late because of the dentist, the vet, the traffic-’”

“Always one for excuses.”

There’s not an ounce of joking in Eddie’s tone this time, enough derision to make you look up, sharp and sudden- “Excuse me?”

This time, Eddie is the first to drop his gaze first, hair falling over his face as he bends forward to fit his foot in the mouth of his boot. “Nothing.”

A hollow thunk as his heel makes contact, then he reaches for the other boot with a weary, flat laugh, shaking his head under your tense gaze. “You just- you don’t think they’ll see it? Smell it on us? All the l- the- y’know, the affection? The intimacy?”

The Word he swallowed sits in your own throat, just behind the sting. The cool tips of your fingers slot over your eyelids, Eddie’s coat in the crook of your elbow smothering your senses with spiced cologne and nicotine. Maddening. 

In the dark behind your fingers, the tears gather. The Rules, once a lifeline to your structured self, now seem childish and hurtful. You say the one thing you’re able- “I’m sorry.”

Another dull thunk for his second boot, and then you hear Eddie rise, feel the soothing brush of his touch on the crown of your head as he passes- he doesn’t even sound mad. “Don’t be. S’okay.”

The handle on one of the back van doors pops, preceding a metallic creak and a rush of cool air. You drop your hands from your eyes, watching the profile of Eddie’s face against the backdrop of wintry woods as he crouches at the van’s edge, drawing in lungfuls of crisp air. 

The cold leeches in, bringing with it a sense of exposure, taking all the smells and heat of sex from the coziness of the enclosure and lifting it all out to be scattered on the wind. You have a strange feeling of wanting to reach out and hold onto the last of it, as if it were tangible. 

Eddie’s boots crunch into the snow, but he doesn’t go far, just steps a yard or so away. Through the single open door his back is turned, shoulders rolling, neck stretching from side to side, working out the kinks. 

Longing aches through your bones; you want to bury your face into the space between his shoulder blades and breathe in that musky, rich red fabric. You don’t feel as though you’ve earned that right, somehow. 

Instead, you snag your own boots and coat to jam on, joining Eddie under a sky paled with early evening light. He stands silently, eyes fixed on the trees, breath a floating cloud around his head.

You stand just as silent, shoulder to shoulder, Eddie’s black jacket still tucked in your crossed arms. Silent until you can’t bear it, bouncing on the balls of your feet against the icy wind that cools the sweat under your arms and back with a chill.

“I know you don’t want me to be, but I am. Sorry, that is. I don’t-”

The tears are back. You swallow them down, determined to loose the words from your lips, however clunky, because Eddie deserves to hear them at the very least. “I don’t know how to function without rules. Without some sort of- cage, or, like, something to hold me in, ‘cuz otherwise I-”

In answer, Eddie breaks his deer-like stillness to turn, pulling you into himself, arms wrapping you up in a solid hug. The warmth starts to creep back in as he rocks you gently, dropping  kiss to the top of your head before saying- “I know. I know, honey, because I know you.”

Tears make wet tracks down your cheeks, dampening the front of Eddie’s sweater, even as you make a watery attempt at humor- “No, you don’t. Don’t even know my middle name.”

“Sure I do. Guessed it ages ago. Obviously Albert.” 

His hug tightens when you sob a laugh, clinging to him, words still fighting to the surface- “I’m just, sorry, that I’m the way that I am and I can’t change it, not right now, at least, but it’s hurting you and I just am so s-”

“Honey, honey,” Eddie’s mumbling over your stream of consciousness, pressing in closer to rest his cheek on your crown. “Don’t have to be sorry. ‘M not hurting. Not from you, never from you. I like you so much-”

“I like you so much,” you sniff, pulling your head up to look at him even through the tears so he knows you mean it. 

You’re met with a wide smile, a winner, the kind that shows all his teeth, bright enough to rival the snow- “Oh my god. You have a crush on me?”

“Shut up,” you mutter, pushing at his chest but weak enough that he chuckles at the effort, basking in the extra touches.

There’s an unfortunate lack of time but you take what little aftercare is afforded, hearing the thump of Eddie’s heart under your ear, relishing the feeling of his hold. Though the winter air is bitter with cold, it helps to clear your mind from the sex-weed-shame loop. 

Spoken into the fibers of Eddie’s sweater- “I just… don’t want to share you yet. It’s stupid and complicated but I want it to be our thing, for a little while longer. Just us.”

“Just us,” Eddie repeats, kissing the parts of you he can reach- forehead, temple, line of scalp. “I can swing that. Not too different from now, hm?”

“It will be, though.” It’s a promise that scares you, but one you’re confident you can make in good faith. You just need some time. “Promise.”

With one last squeeze, Eddie lets you go, taking his coat from your arm to slip into, patting around for his keys and jingling them with a wink- “Your chariot awaits, princess.”

___

As it turns out, Eddie wasn’t, in fact, lying about going to PJ’s, which is why you now find yourself under the harsh fluorescents of a corner store aisle with your roommate’s cum drying in your undies. 

“Snakes.”

Zoning out on the racks of candy, Eddie’s sudden word from just behind your right shoulder makes you jump.

“What?” You cast a glance backwards. 

In response, Eddie’s jacketed arm brushes yours when he leans past you for a bag of gummy snakes. He’s already got an armful of various chips and a 6-pack of beers, the bottles clinking as he shifts. 

“Robs won’t eat the bear kind. Said the shape makes her too sad to eat.”

You consider this, sliding a bag of peach rings off the metal line for Nancy. “But biting a snake’s head off, that’s all good and fine for a tree hugger?”

“She’s an odd duck,” Eddie agrees, wistful, plastic crinkling under those big palms that were mapping the shape of your body not twenty minutes ago. 

“Well, you’d know all about that, huh?” You knock a shoulder playfully into Eddie’s side.

The look he gives you is mischievous, sparkling through the frame of long, dark lashes. “If it quacks…”

Earlier, you’d used the payphone to call home while Eddie hunted for vittles- a short drive back, but nonetheless you were anxious to know the situation you’d both be walking into. 

Annoyingly, Eddie was right again- Nance sounded unusually giggly, telling you all about the epic blanket fort the boys had built under Robin’s orders, the background filled with drunken and otherwise intoxicated chatter. Not even eagle-eyed Nancy noticed the time you and Eddie spent away- all she asked about was the food supplies. 

At the counter, a lone employee bags the snack fest with disinterest, retrieving Eddie’s requested pack of smokes and sorting the crumpled bills you provide with barely a word.

Eddie’s eyes keep darting to yours, nostrils flaring, hamming up the humor, and it’s getting harder not to laugh each time, corners of your mouth twisting to keep the noise from bursting out. 

If there’s something funny, Eddie wants to share it with you. He’s always been generous. 

In the glittering snowscape of PJ’s parking lot, Eddie plucks at your sleeve before you can open the passenger door. 

“Got somethin’ for ya.”

You turn with a frown, eyeing him suspiciously- “If you just spent real money on a pack of those skeezy ‘sex pills’ from the front counter I’m actually not interested.”

“No, no, it’s-” Eddie slings the grocery bag handles to his other arm, rustling in his coat pocket to procure a small, flat parcel of brown butcher paper. “Your Christmas present. Didn’t wanna give it in front of all those other weirdos.”

There’s a loop of white string tied in a knotted bow; you smile softly, taking the gift from Eddie’s proffered hand and plucking at the string. “But- I didn’t bring yours, it’s sitting under the tree-”

“I know. It’s cool, I’ll open it day-of if you want, I just… wanted you to have this now.”

You think about the shiny new record waiting at home for Eddie as you unwrap the present with burgeoning glee- in the middle of the paper lies a circlet of weaved fabric, in varying shades of forest green and cerulean blue. 

It’s not until you lift the loop into the air that you realize what it is- a friendship bracelet. 

“Max and El helped,” Eddie explains, in the nervous, self-conscious way of a gift-giver. “Had a whole craft sesh while you and the boys were out ice skating. Don’t think they quite believed I was makin’ it for Jeff, but…”

He trails off. You’ve just noticed the tiny silver pendant dangling from the center of the bracelet, about the size of your pinky nail- it dances with movement, casting glints of light from its surface, the engraved E flipping in and out of sight. 

“Couldn’t craft that one. Need a little more real-world metal working practice under my belt for that.” Eddie hooks a thumb in his belt loop for emphasis, rocking back on his heels. “Got it when I went to the big city last month.”

You run the pad of your finger over the engraving, feeling the grooves of the letter press up against your skin, shocked into silence. 

“And- uhm, I mean, if you hate it, or if it’s, like, totally weird that I just gave you something with my initial on it-” Eddie is full of fidgety nerves, making a sweeping gesture with his hand to indicate general whateverness- “I didn’t mean it like an I own you sorta thing, you’re your own woman- person- obviously, and you can totally just throw it to the birds-”

The parking lot and nearby street is empty, but even if it wasn’t, that wouldn’t have stopped you from pulling Eddie in by the jacket collar and kissing him breathless. 

He makes a little mmph of surprise, then gets with it, kissing back, letting you direct the show with a fistful of his lapel. When you pull back, his eyes are half-lidded, a lovely pink flush in his cheeks as he chases your mouth for one last kiss.

“Thank you,” you whisper, genuine, lifting your right wrist for Eddie to take- “Will you put it on me?”

With gentle dedication, Eddie fits the bracelet around your wrist and ties the ends together, silver pendant sitting perfectly at the base of your hand. 

“You’re comin’ for Christmas, right?” Eddie’s taking his time with microadjustments of the fit, using the excuse to trail his long fingers around your upper arm while he’s at it. “Don’t think I officially asked you yet, just sort of assumed.”

He’s petting the inside of your forearm, almost to distraction. 

“Wayne won’t mind?”

Eddie snorts, a double-squeeze to your wrist as he fiddles with the ends of the bracelet. “You kidding? Pretty sure that spiteful old man would lock me out of the damn trailer if I showed up without you.”

Despite the cold, warmth blooms through your limbs, a holiday spent with hot chocolate on the Munson couch a fortifying future indeed. 

Eddie pulls your wrist to his face, meeting it halfway for a kiss before giving your hand back. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s go see what damage those holiday hooligans have wrought on our apartment.”

[sturnsdarling]

'you look like this song'

{insp by @sturnioz au} smartand'mean'!reader is getting ready in fratboy!Matts room whilst listening to Nirvana, and he can't keep his eyes, or hands, off of her.

vibe check: fluffy smut with no real plot, everyone's (my) fave

2k words

A/N: This is for the anon who's having a shitty month, i hope you love it and i hope it makes your september a little better. I had this idea after Matt was listening to nirvana on stream, i need to sit in his room and listen to music whilst i get ready on his floor and i need it NOW.

love and cigs, merc

You were sat on Matts bedroom floor, wearing nothing but a black lingerie set and a pair of fishnet tights with the crotch ripped out, a gift from you to Matt from a previous bathroom hookup. Your legs were crossed underneath you as you did your makeup in the body length mirror that you had found on the street, and claimed as your makeup mirror in Matts room.

You tugged at your eye slightly, smoking out the black liner you had just applied, effortlessly achieving that 'slightly fucked out but still hot' look that had become your signature style. Your playlist was on a loop, always hooking your phone up to Matts speakers regardless of whether or not he was there or not. 'Smells like teen spirit' by Nirvana began to play, the steady drums making the floor vibrate slightly.

The door clicked open, and Matt walked in the room, looking at his phone and bopping his backward cap clad head along to the music before turning his attention to you. You looked to him in the reflection from your spot on the floor and, of course, he was already looking at you. You shot him a small smile before returning to your makeup, moving onto applying a dark burgundy lip with a slightly open mouth.

Matt came to stand behind you, caressing your slightly tangled hair with a large hand. His hand came down to the side of your face and slid down your jaw, watching you intently in the mirror. Your focus didn't waver, still focused on your makeup as you patted and rubbed your plump, dark lips together.

Matt felt as if his mouth had began to water at the sight of you, his hand coming down to your jaw as the song continued to play in the background. He tugged at the bottom of your jaw, moving your head so you were looking up at him from your perched position on the floor, him towering behind you.

"hey, tough girl" Matt smirked, his hand snaking its way up and down your neck with soft fingers.

You smiled in return, batting your lashes at him like a cat, "hi, Matthew"

"you look sexy as fuck right now, you know that?" He said, his words rolling off his tongue like honey.

You chuckled slightly, rolling your eyes and attempting to return to doing your makeup, Matt tutted at your slight attitude with faux anger, pulling your head back up to face him as he leaned down on bent knees, capturing your neck in his hand and kissing you roughly.

The force he kissed you with sent you backwards, Matt catching you in his lap as he met you on the floor. Your head was cradled in his legs, your view of him upside down. Kurt Cobain was shredding on the guitar, the sound giving your face a whole new beauty that Matt was lost in.

"you look like this song" Matt muttered, in awe of how completely beautiful you were.

You couldn't help but laugh, lifting yourself up and turning round to face him, your legs tucked under you like a baby deer, "what?" you said with a smile.

Matt brought a hand to your jaw, swiping his thumb along your smudged lipstick, knowing it was probably stained on his mouth too,

"y'know how this song makes you feel when you listen to it? like you're vibrating, you can feel every cell in your body and your heart thumpin' in your chest so hard it could break a rib" Matt said, quoting you the first time you played this song in his presence.

"yeah?" You smirked with furrowed brows, letting Matt poke and prod at your puffy bottom lip.

"thats how you make me feel, when I look at you" Matt finally brought his eyes to yours.

Matts words made you feel warm all over, you couldn't even muster up a reply, the only thing in your mind being how not only was that easily the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to you, but how all you wanted to do in that moment was pin matt to the floor and ride in him into oblivion for remembering your exact words about one of your favourite songs of all time.

His eyes were pouring into yours, your breathing got slightly heavier and your mouth parted. The song was coming to end, steady drums and repeated 'hellos' being the only sound in the room as you attempted to form a sentence in reply to Matt.

Nothing you could think to say was coherent, or appropriate for the time frame in which you'd known each other so, you did the one thing you knew Matt would understand.

You threw yourself into him, capturing your lips in his with feverish passion, pressing your tongue against his almost immediately. Matt welcomed your attack, kissing you back with matched desperation. You crawled onto his lap, straddling him and raking your hands through the tangled curls at the nape of his neck, pulling his hat off to give you better access to his soft brown hair.

Matts hands were on your waist, pulling you down into him as he lowered you both onto the floor, his back pressing against the hard wood. His hands snuck up your nearly bare back, the feeling of his skin against yours sending you into a frenzy. Every press of his finger tips felt like hot wax as you quietly moaned into his mouth, grinding your hips against his, trying to chase any friction you could.

Matt tensed at your movements, hips rutting up into yours involuntarily as you pushed your barely clothed pussy down on his growing bulge.

"need it, now" you whimpered into the kiss, your words demanding but your tone desperate.

Matt chuckled, "right now, angel? thought you were gettin' ready?" he muttered into your mouth, chasing your lips.

"right now" you replied, speaking in two word sentences, unable to shake the fever that had overcome you.

Matt smirked and slid his hands down your back and over your fishnet covered ass, pulling apart your cheeks slightly, making you arch above him like a cat. Your hands left his hair and dipped in between the two of you, you fiddled with the button of his jeans, snaking your cold hand into his jeans.

Matt let out a short hiss, and you captured his mouth in yours once more, pumping him as best you could under the restriction of his jeans. Matt moaned into your mouth, and brought his hand down to your ass, smacking it in encouragement. You used your other hand to fumble with the top of his jeans, pushing them down with needy whines and whimpers into the messy kiss.

Once you had managed to free Matt of his jeans, him doing nothing to help, enjoying watching you be so desperate for his cock, you sat up, still pumping him in your hand as you did. Matt watched in awe, with your lipstick smudged over your face and your eyes fluttering with needy ache, you'd never looked more beautiful.

Matt came up slightly to rest on his elbows, eyes still trained on yours. You brought your free hand to his mouth and swiped your middle and index over his stained lips, Matt knew what you wanted, and took your hand in his, opening it into a small bowl in front of his mouth. He held eye contact with you, and collected his saliva on his tongue, spitting it into your palm. You smiled, taking your now wet hand and replacing the hand on his cock with it.

The feeling of your sticky hand against his cock made his head roll back on its hinge, eyes fluttering as a low groan left his mouth. You shifted your hand up and down his length, rubbing his spit all over his throbbing shaft and over his leaking pink head. Shifting slightly, you lifted yourself up, pulling your underwear to the side and lining Matts tip up with your aching hole.

You lowered down onto him, the burning stretch of his cock filling you up as you sunk down inciting a breathless moan from you, nudging your puffy clit against the scattering of hair at the base of his cock as you let him nestle into you completely.

Matts mouth was opened wide, his head snapping back up to watch as you sucked him into your tight walls completely, brows burrowed at the sensation of you clenching around him.

You began to move, resting your hands against his chest as leverage as you moved to place the bottoms of your feet against the floor, squatting on top of him.

The new angle made your pussy grip Matts cock in a way he'd never experienced before,

"oh fuck" Matt said through gritted teeth as you began to bounce on him.

You were lost in it, his earlier words playing on repeat in your mind as you moved up and down his veiny cock, relishing in the sting of him stretching out your unprepared pussy. Despite the lack of foreplay, you were soaked, and you could feel yourself leaking sticky juices against the base of his cock every time he bottomed out side of you.

Whimpering, desperate moans left your throat as you fucked him, taking him as deep as you could, milking him with every bounce. Matt couldn't keep his eyes off where the two of you met, watching as you rose up and down on his length, his whole body tingling at the feeling of your tight pussy coupled with the slight sting of your nails digging into your chest.

"m'gonna cum if you keep riding me like this, angel" Matt said, breathlessly as he reluctantly tore his eyes from your skin slapping against his and met your eye line.

"s'what I want, cum inside me, please" you mumbled, begging as you relentlessly milked his cock.

"you - fuck - you know the rules, angel, you -" Matt cut himself off with a moan, "you cum first" his eyes flit back to the sight of your perfect pussy taking him, and he brought his thumb up to your mouth, pushing it inside and laying it against your warm tongue.

You pushed your tongue against his digit, wrapping your lips around his lowest knuckle with a small hum. Matt pulled his thumb from your mouth with a pop, taking his free hand and using it to push you up slightly, giving him better access to your clit and the perfect opportunity to wrap his hand round your throat.

Matt laid back completely onto the floor, with one hand on your throat, and the other working your clit, he watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, unable to control your contorting face as he worked a relentless pace on your sensitive nub. You picked up your speed, ignoring the ache in your thighs as you desperately worked to get Matt to cum.

"tell m-" you stuttered, "tell me again"

Matt smirked, the events of the last few minutes adding up in his mind, you liked it when he told you how he felt about you, without actually telling you.

"you look like a Nirvana song, angel, so pretty n' so messy, all for me" He cooed, trying his best to make his words clear despite his fucked out, wavering tone.

"mphm" your brows knit together, you shifted your position, straddling him once more to grind your hips back and forth against his.

The drag of your pussy against his base, along with the wet, sticky pace Matt was setting on your clit and his perfect words made you see stars, and you came all over his cock, vision going blurry as you reached your high.

You moaned out his name, unable to stop the noises that left your mouth as you shook above him, legs tensing around his hips and nails digging little crescent moons into his chest.

"fuck, pretty girl, you look s'good when you cum all over my cock" Matt said, bringing a hand to hold your hip, grinding you down onto him faster as you started to get lightheaded.

"y'want me to fill you up, angel? soak your perfect pussy in my cum whilst your favourite songs play in the background?" Matt mumbled, slowing his pace on your clit and moving his other hand to your hip.

"please" you whimpered

Matt didn't need any more permission, he lifted you up slightly, the movement making you flop forward onto him, catching yourself with a hand round his jaw. Without warning, he began to pound into you, using his grip on your hips as leverage to mercilessly fuck your weeping pussy.

You let out a broken moan, trying to capture his lips in yours but failing, trailing wet, sloppy pecks on his mouth as he thrust into you at a feverish pace, grunting and groaning at the feeling of you clenching around him.

"so fuckin' needy for me, tough girl, all because I told you somthin' nice" Matt said though gritted teeth, "you feel as good as you look, y'know that?"

You couldn't even begin to muster a reply, only moans spilling from your mouth as Matts relentless pace into your pussy made you completely cock dumb. With a few hard, long thrusts, Matt buried himself inside you completely, dick twitching in your walls as he coated them with his cum, moaning your name as he went limp beneath you.

You breathed into each others mouths, foreheads rested against each others as your body weight relaxed down onto him.

"you gonna keep getting ready, angel?" Matt mumbled, pulling out of you.

"mhm" you nodded breathlessly, "just need a minute"

Matt chuckled, wrapping his tattooed arms around you as you caught your breath on top of him. "okay tough girl" He said, just before pressing a long kiss into the side of your head.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour

[luviisabella]

University AU fluff & 18+ ⭐️

NSFW Shoto Todoroki

—

- he likes to rub the back of your hand to signal he’s needy, he still uses his words but usually does this when you two are out with friends and he wants to leave just to have you to himself

- some say he isn’t vocal but I think he enjoys learning about you so he’s not at all afraid to ask questions

“Like this ?”

“Does this feel good ?”

“You’re really vocal, this must feel good”

- but it’s such a soothing voice, he’s somewhat talking you through it, he just wants to learn what turns his girlfriend on

- when he eats you out he loves to rub his thumb gently across your thigh as if to soothe you

- he’s also very strong, please don’t worry about squishing his head between your thighs. the first time you do it he’s actually really turned on

- if you sit on his lap his hands immediately fall at your hips, he’ll place his thumbs in your belt loops and slowly move you forward

- doesn’t realize he has a hair pulling interest until he’s eating you out and you involuntarily tug at his scalp, the sensation causing the tent in his pants to grow

- not the biggest fan of doggy, he actually loves seeing your face and the expressions you make sometimes you’ll hear him tell you how ‘pretty you look’

- he’s so gentle with you, when you’re in missionary he’ll ask if it’s okay to move before doing so but really he’s holding back so much

- he’s not huge on words when talking you through it but he’s still vocal, low groans, sometimes whines if he’s really pent up or into it

- he can have rough sex, usually when he’s irritated or he’s pent up

- he’ll have you with one leg over his shoulder and gripping your thigh while relentlessly fucking you just to let off some steam

- speaking of he does use his quirk in bed, when he feels like you’re not vocal enough he’ll circle your clit with his thumb while freezing his fingertip just to hear you whine

- lots and I mean lots of heavy breathing, he doesn’t hold back

SFW Shoto Todoroki

—

- loves coffee dates

- he actually gets a bit grumpy/sassy when you don’t opt to hold his hand

“Sho, what’s the matter ?”

“Nothing… just cold”

And you can’t help but fight back a laugh knowing he’s being a big baby about you not being close to him or holding his hand. He can warm himself up he just wants you to do it for him.

- loves to give you kisses on your cheek, back of your hand, palm of your hand

- always greets you so differently from the others, more of a “I’ve been waiting for you” greeting and you can usually see a small smile from him not fully but enough to know he cares for you

- when you’re in large crowds he always holds your hand and never lets go. his demeanor wards off everyone around you so you never really worry about a guy making a move

- in the case a guy does he silently comes over and places his chin on the top of your head or will hover over you till the guy takes the hint, usually doesn’t have to say much

- loves doing skin care with you, always has questions

“So lemon will brighten my dark circles ?”

“Yes sho, but you actually don’t have any cause you’re beautiful”

“….”

“I think you’re beautiful too”

- he’s too cute

- when it’s cold his nose and cheeks get pink and he’s always breathing out cold air but it’s cute, the way he does it

- loves to bring you random treats whenever he’s out and never lets you pay for anything

- loves to just take a nap with you, usually you on top of him, like a weighted stuffed animal, it’s comforting for him

- if you do nap like this his hands are ln your waist as if he’s protecting you

- sometimes comes home and says nothing, just lays beside you and buries his face into your neck, he just needs your energy

- sometimes also sleeps with his face buried in your side and his hands wrapped around your waist

- compliments you and it’s cute

“That dress looks beautiful on you”

“You’re pretty”

“That was cute”

- DOES get embarrassed with compliments sometimes so when you do something cute or attractive he’ll turn the other way and cover his mouth with his hand to try and hide the way his face turns a little red

- will also mutter about how it was cute and how you nearly sent him into cardiac arrest

- overall, really loves you

[luvgam3]

Workwife!Shoko to fuel my delusions ♡

Cw: afab!reader, nsfw under cut, hospital coworkers au, wholesome flirting turned more, shoko the p☆ssy destroyer, a fwb situation…

Workwife!Shoko who instantly took a liking to you the day you started working together. She was tasked with training you for the whole week, in all reality she was dreading it— but upon seeing your dazzling smile and hearing your bubbly voice that all melted away.

Workwife!Shoko who only ever let you touch her. Whether it was resting your head against her shoulder after a long shift, or looping your arm with hers as you walk through the halls between shifts. You even clung to her during your smoke breaks— your knees knocking together as you blew smoke into the frigid air.

Workwife!Shoko who started inviting you out every Friday night for a drink at a nearby bar. You’d walk side by side, subtle flirting flowing in-between conversation. The flirting got bolder as liquid courage flowed down your throats. Her hand would find punches on your clothed thigh under the table, the dingy light swinging overhead doing nothing to hide the glint of lust in her eyes as she watched you sip at your beer unknowingly.

Workwife!Shoko who was used to your drunken kisses. By the end of the night neither of you could drive, so you’d sit in the backseat of a taxi and babble to one another. Your simple goodnight kisses— a quick peck on the lips— evolved into you littering Shoko with kisses before you even got out of the cab.

Workwife!Shoko who now has a section in her closet for your clothes and scrubs for when you spend the night. Your bras are always in her laundry bin or left on her floor. The first time you spent the night at her house was when you both had off the next day, so it’s not like you had to rush home and change before your shift— you only made that mistake once.

Workwife!Shoko who loves to tease you at work after a particularly intense night. ‘Awe you’re limping, are you okay?’ ‘You’ve got a little bruise on your neck, did something happen?’ Ugh she loves watching your cheeks flush as you turn and storm away. She knows you’re limping because she had your legs hooked over her shoulders for hours on end, bullying her strap into your tight little cunt. She knows she’s the one who left that hickey on your neck and just “forgot” to tell you before you left.

Workwife!Shoko who will catch you on your lunch break, dragging you into a supply closet just to hike up your scrub top and yank down your bra to suck on your tits as you grind against her leg. You’ll be starving for the rest of the day but the feeling of her hot tongue against your skin lingers for hours.

Workwife!Shoko who doesn’t care if you date around. You’re still friends after all. Just know that once your heart gets broken (yet again) she’ll be at your door with takeout and beer. Friends make each other feel better… her way just ends up with your face pushed into a pillow while she laps at your pussy like it’s the only thing she’s eaten in days. Her hands grasping at the globes of your ass as you tremble and whine, spit and tears wetting your pillow.

Workwife!Shoko who keeps her nails short because of work but learned that it has its benefits. It’s so easy to finger fuck you in the backseat of her car when her nails are always perfectly trimmed!

Workwife!Shoko who usually tops, but even she has her days where all she wants is to be taken care of— and boy do you deliver. She’s taught you well, your hips piston into her with reckless abandon as her fingers fist the sheets. You eat her out like an expert, only coming back up to mash your lips against her in a desperate needy kiss, your chin dripping with saliva and her. You even tie her hands behind her back on days where all she can think about is regaining her control even when she doesn’t really want to— you’re such a lifesaver— pulling at her confines as you plow into her, her ass bouncing with each thrust of your hips as she whimpers.

[archangeldyke-all]

Sevika idea? Modern AU. Sevika and Reader (mostly reader because Sevika just grumbles about it) decide to take Jinx and Isha to an amusement park for the first time. Sevika is..... okay with it? But it's not her thing..

..That is until they get there and Sevika goes into full dad mode when she rides a rollercoaster with the two and now she can't stop because she wants to ride everything with them.

GOD GOD GOD i love fluffy fluffy fluff like this omg

men and minors dni

the girls sit you down one evening, both of them wearing determined looks and wearing one of sevika's old ties around their neck. jinx does most of the talking while isha hands out brochures and drawings.

"ladies, thank you for coming to this meeting." she greets. sevika rolls her eyes.

"you both forced us to come sit on the couch."

"shush." jinx flips sevika off quickly, before clearing her throat and continuing. "you may be wondering why we've asked you here today--"

"dragged." sevika corrects.

"hush!" jinx stomps her foot. isha glares at sevika. you elbow her. she sighs.

"fine, go."

"we have a business proposition for you." jinx announces. "in exchange for a month's allowance, we'd like you to take us to, drum roll please..."

isha pats her lap, giggling as you join in.

"randy's rollercoasters!" isha does a little twirl for emphasis.

sevika groans. you chuckle. isha hands you two brochures for randy's rollercoasters.

"now, hold on a second." you cut in. "we give you an allowance in exchange for your chores. you're telling me you'll clean the toilets without any pay? all month?" you ask.

jinx and isha nod, and isha crosses over her heart as a promise.

sevika grunts beside you. "and what are we supposed to do there while you two go on all the rides? stand in the hot sun and wait around all day?"

"oh, come on, sev! you can ride with us!"

"fuck no!"

"they sell beer." you mutter under your breath, pointing to the drinks and food section of your brochure. "we could just get tipsy and make out in dark corners while the kids ride."

jinx sticks her tongue out at the suggestion, but sevika seems intrigued. isha's blinking up at both of you with her hands folded under her chin, her gold eyes wide and watery as she waits for an answer.

sevika sighs, then groans. "fine."

the girls burst into cheers.

that's what you think will happen-- that the girls will have a great time and you and sevika will make the most of your day loitering around the park.

but then you get there, and isha gets spooked seeing how big the rollercoasters really are, and you and sevika promise to go on her first ride with her to show her it's safe.

but something about the thrill and watching her girls squeal with fear and excitement makes sevika all giddy and excited after the first ride.

it's adorable.

"have you never been on a roller coaster before, babe?"

"it's been almost twenty years!" she laughs, hoisting isha onto her shoulders. "okay, which one are we hitting next?" she asks jinx. isha squeals with excitement. you pout.

"we!? what about me?! i'll get sick if i go on another one of those rides."

sevika turns to you with a pout. your heart swells in your chest.

"c'mon, baby, please? just a few more rides, and i'm yours for the day. i just wanna do the log flume. and maybe the one with the loops."

"and the death dropper." jinx adds on. sevika nods.

"yeah, and the death dropper."

you examine your wife, laughter bubbling up in your lungs as you take in the excited, childlike glimmer in her eye. she's just as excited as isha and jinx. "you kids go have fun. if you need me, i'll be by the funnel cakes and beer." you say, shooing your family away toward the rides.

sevika grins, kissing your cheek and taking off with jinx at her side, isha cackling as they run toward the next ride.

so, you don't get to make out with your wife much. but you get a whole bunch of fun pictures of your family on the rides, a lot of cotton candy, and three million watt smiles from your girls and wife every time they come off a ride.

when the day winds down and the girls get tired, you walk around the carnival booths on the park grounds, letting isha and jinx play games and win bears.

sevika's got an arm slung around your shoulders, a smile on her lips. "'m sorry i abandoned you today." she says. you laugh.

"are you kidding? i had a blast today. getting to watch you three have all that fun, snacking and drinking to my heart's content-- we should do this every weekend." you suggest.

isha and jinx both perk up at that. sevika cackles. "no! no, we can not afford that. but, we can come back for isha's birthday." she suggests.

isha wins you a teddy bear with one of the darts games, then sevika gets jealous and tries to win you one of the strength testers. only, she hits the hammer so hard it's handle snaps in half, and the attendant has to close the stand for the night.

you buy the girls slushies then pile into the ferris wheel.

the sun is setting on the horizon, lighting up the little cart the four of you sit in. isha and jinx are chattering to themselves with their faces pressed against the glass, giving you and sevika some semblance of privacy on your little seat.

"you really had fun today?" sevika asks. you smile and nod.

"it was amazing. i love hearing you all laugh like that. especially you." you say.

sevika grins and swoops in to kiss you, just as your cart reaches the top of the wheel.

the girls 'ooh' and 'aah' and the height and the sights, and then they both groan when they turn around and find you two kissing.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion

[abslvr111]

police officer wife!abby anderson

cw. wlw (men dni), smut, nipple sucking, bondage (cuffs), riding abby’s strap, no outbreak au, (slight) size kink, this comes from my love of hot female police officers 💀 also haven’t posted in a bit sry sry gotta new kitten so i’ve been busy <33 + maybe a tiny bit cringe ngl 🥱

sum. riding cop abby’s strap while she’s cuffed and you’re wearing a slutty police outfit 😖

wc. 842 (wc goes up when it abby y’all 🤞)

you meet abby at a minor traffic stop, pure muscle under her police uniform as she walks up to your car window, you look at her in awe (expecting her to be some middle-aged dick officer— not eye candy), until you start to get bashful: remembering your pulled over by her.

you forgot to turn on your signal, she’s smirking by the time she heads back to her cruiser to run your information, and she writes you a warning— as well as her number. you can’t help but smile when you read the paper, happy to text her once you got home.

your first date goes perfectly and by the second one she has you laid out on her bed, you can remember your first time with her like it was yesterday— your memories stay vivid when abby’s in them.

you fall into a nice routine with her, waking up to her big arms around your waist, hugging you close from behind, warm lips pressing soft kisses to your neck as you blink sleep from your eyes.

you’ll watch her get ready as you slowly wake up, eyeing her as she puts on her blue uniform, smirking at the cuffs on her belt, you eventually get up to start your morning routine with her.

she teaches you how to shoot a gun, her front pressed up against your back as she holds your smaller hands in her bigger ones, she helps you aim the firearm, and your fingers touch, wedding bands clashing together, abby loves every second of your shared target practice.

abby thinks it’s cute, this is the first time you’ve put on a costume for her, lingerie, sure. but not this, you’re dressed in a slutty cop uniform— if you could even call it that (the only cop aspect being your blue hat), dark blue bra showing off your tits matching lace thong clinging to your hips, and showing off your figure nicely. black fishnets go up your legs, they look good against your thighs she thinks, sharp heels ready to be kicked off are on your feet, and a pair of fuzzy black handcuffs in your right grasp complete your outfit.

she’s used cuffs on you before, but never have you used them on her, she can’t help but smirk from her place on the bed, amused by what you have planned.

“is something funny ma'am?” you say, tone authoritative as you make your way to her.

“not at all officer,” she says teasingly, playing along with your game.

“are you sure? because i think you need to be cuffed.” you’re holding the fuzzy cuffs up to her eye level now, you continue, “and punished.” your stance is almost dominant but abby’s still almost taller than you even sitting on the bed, it’s adorable in her eyes.

she puts her hands out in front of her, complacent as you slip the soft loops around her wrists. when you’re done she lets her hands drop to her lap, making herself comfortable sitting at the edge of the bed.

you’re smiling cheekily as you begin to unzip her pants pulling her pants off, needy as ever you’re already straddling her lap, inches away from grinding on the strap below her boxers.

abby’s hands come up to bring both cups of your bar down, revealing your tits to her greedy eyes, her lips immediately begin sucking at your nipple, earning a whimper from you, she’s squeezing your other breast with her hand. now you’re sitting properly on her lap, grinding yourself across her cock, your fingers weave through the back of her scalp, putting minimal pressure on the back of her head.

you pull the band of her boxers down just enough for her strap to spring free, you rub your pussy over the silicon coating it with your slick, slowly, you bring the tip to your entrance, easing yourself down onto till you hit the base, moaning as you do.

abby draws away from your chest, her lips and tongue on yours as you begin bouncing yourself on her, setting a steady pace for yourself. her fingers pinch at your nipples, it makes you whine moving yourself faster on her lap, you drag your fingers to over your clit rubbing fast circles.

abby parted from your kiss, you looked so pretty above her, she felt herself get wetter by the second while she watched you, she might have to let you do this more often, watching you get yourself off on her after she gets off a long shift was nice.

she felt your thighs start to get wobbly, your orgasm approaching, the little blue hat on your head tilts to the side as your pace increases and gets rougher.

you’re grinding down on her as you cum, leaning on her as you do, you’re flipped to your back before you can catch your breath, a snap rattles in your ears as abby breaks the cheap fluffy cuffs, she’s smirking down at you, and you know you’re in for a long night.

[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | JJK ch5

“For good service and cute waitresses”

pairing: pre military!jungkook x secret fuckbuddy!oc

contents: profanity, eventual smut, fluff, humour, celeb au, THEY FIX THINGS!, deep talks, jk talks about his life, alcohol consumption, nari!, oc has some inner conflict ar some points. JUNGKOOK AND OC GO ON DATE!! YAYAYYA

wc: idk yall but its long (im sry checking wc is so long)

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: @dreamersparacosm @jenniebyrubies @darklove2020

a/n: lowk hate this chapter. enjoy though :) ALSO SMUT IS COMING IN THE NEXT 2 CHAPTERS PROBABLY! KEEP HOLDING ON GUYSS!!

masterlist < prev | next >

The apartment feels hollow in a way that has nothing to do with its size. The walls stretch high, the corners dark, the only sound the faint ticking of the clock on the kitchen wall. You curl deeper into the couch, knees tucked to your chest, as the words from earlier loop in your head. You lied to Nari about being busy tonight. Sometimes you just want to be alone, even though you know that being with her would make you forget about that whole… ordeal. But sometimes, it’s better to face things head-on.

“I mean, to be fair, you saw what happened last time. The whole social media thing? That was a mess. He’s probably trying to avoid another situation like that.”

Nari had said it so casually, as if it were obvious, as if it didn’t sting. As if it didn’t make your stomach tighten with something complicated and ugly.

Was that all it was?

Jungkook wasn’t cold because of you, because of whatever unspoken thing had been threading between you both for a while now. He was just—avoiding a mess. Dodging headlines, hashtags, speculation. And maybe you should feel relieved about that, but instead, it settles in your chest like a weight pressing down, down, down.

Because isn’t that worse?

If he had been upset with you, if you had done something wrong—though you can’t think of anything wrong other than leaving him on read—you could fix it. Apologize. Make it right. But this? How are you supposed to fight against something as intangible as his reluctance to be seen with you?

You exhale slowly, pressing your forehead against your knees.

You replay the moment from earlier, the way he barely met your eyes, the way his words had been clipped and distant—like he had already decided you weren’t worth the trouble.

It shouldn’t matter this much.

And yet—

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, lighting up the dim room.

You don’t move at first. Just stare, watching the letters of the name glow on the screen. Unknown number.

He’s already called twice tonight. You let it ring both times, watching the screen dim until silence swallowed the room again.

But this time, your hand moves before you can stop yourself. A deep breath. Then, you swipe to accept the call, pressing the phone to your ear.

Silence.

The kind that stretches, thick and uncertain.

You swallow. “Hello?”

Still nothing. Only the faintest sound of his breathing on the other end.

Your fingers tighten around the phone. “Jungkook?”

Then, finally— “I’m sorry.”

His voice was quiet, rough.

“I’m so, so sorry. I— I swear, it wasn’t what you think. I wasn’t trying to be an asshole, I just—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” You cut in, frowning. “Slow down.”

He exhaled sharply, like he was trying to get his thoughts in order.

“I— I should have explained. I should have just—fuck, I don’t know, said something. I didn’t mean to push you away, I just… I panicked. Everything felt like it was spiraling, and I—” He sighed. “I didn’t want it to turn into a thing.”

Your fingers curled around the blanket on your lap.

“I get it,” You murmured.

“You do?” His voice was hesitant, like he didn’t quite believe you.

“Yeah. If you had just told me in the moment, I would have understood. I wouldn’t have been upset. But instead, you just…” you let out a humorless laugh. “You just left me standing there.”

A long silence stretched between you both.

“I know,” he said finally, voice small. “I messed up.”

You closed your eyes. “Next time, just… tell me. Trust me enough to let me handle it. Okay?”

Another pause. Then, softer—

“Okay.”

For the first time since that night, your chest felt a little lighter.

And then—

“Wait, is that Nari?”

Faintly, through the speaker, You heard your best friend’s distinct voice snapping—

“Took you long enough, you absolute idiot.”

You blinked. “What the—”

Jungkook groaned. “She’s at work tonight. She saw me come in looking for you and started yelling at me.”

He looked for you? Your heart beats a little faster at that but you dont let it show.

“GOOD,” Nari called. “You deserve it.”

You clap a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh. “I’m hanging up,” Jungkook muttered.

“No, you’re not,” Nari retorted.

You hear a muffled thunk—probably Jungkook dropping his head onto the diner table.

“This is what i have to deal with now,” he grumbled.

You shake your head, a small smile curling at your lips.

“Yeah, well… You kind of deserve it.”

The silence between you and Jungkook lingers, stretching just long enough to make your fingers tighten around the phone. You don’t know what you’re expecting him to say next, or if he’s even going to say anything at all. Maybe this was a mistake—answering. But then, his voice, quieter this time, cuts through the static.

“I just… I- Can we meet?”

You blink. Meet? Your mind stumbles over the word, and suddenly, it feels like too much. The last time you saw him, he couldn’t even look at you properly. The last time you saw him, you stood there, waiting for some kind of explanation, while he brushed you off like it meant nothing. And now he wants to meet?

You hesitate, biting down on your lip. Your first instinct is to say no. Maybe not outright, but to come up with some excuse—I’m busy, I have work, I don’t think it’s a good idea. You have every reason to refuse, every right to tell him that he doesn’t get to just fix things on his own terms.

But then you exhale, and the anger—the frustration—doesn’t hold as tightly as it did before. Because the truth is, you do want to hear what he has to say. You want to know why he acted the way he did, why he’s calling you now, why his voice sounds the way it does, like he’s hoping you won’t say no.

Still, you hesitate a second too long, and that’s when Nari—who has been not-so-subtly eavesdropping this entire time—erupts into an excited squeal loud enough for you to hear.

“Oh my God, did you just ask to meet?!”

Your stomach drops. Yeah, you aren’t hearing the end of this from her.

There’s a quiet chuckle from the other end of the line—low, barely there, but unmistakable. It’s the first time you’ve heard Jungkook laugh in days, and for some reason, it makes your heart do something stupid in your chest.

You groan, tipping your head back. This is so embarrassing.

“You’re on a break right now, right?” Jungkook says after a moment, still amused. “Are you coming back to work tomorrow?”

“No,” you mumble. “I have a little time off right now.”

You don’t know why you tell him that. Maybe because part of you thinks he’s about to ask if you want to meet now, and you need to shut that down before it starts. But he doesn’t.

“Tomorrow, then?” he asks, quieter now. “Whenever you want. Just tell me where.”

There’s something careful about the way he says it, like he’s trying not to push. Like he’s letting you decide whether this happens at all.

You breathe in, pressing your fingers against the curve of your phone.

“Yeah,” you say finally. “Tomorrow.”

There’s a beat of silence after you agree. Apart from Nari’s frantic squeals in the back, you’re sure your boss is absolutely not having this right now. Your own words settle in your chest, heavier than you expected. You’re really doing this. Meeting him. Letting him explain.

But then a different thought creeps in, one that makes your stomach twist.

“Wait,” you say suddenly, shifting the phone against your ear. “Are you sure this is a good idea? What if we get seen?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, but when he does, his voice is different—lower, smoother, edged with something infuriatingly smug.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he murmurs, slow and deliberate. “I’ll handle it.”

Your breath catches.

Heat prickles at your skin, and you swear you can hear the smirk in his voice. He’s teasing you—you know he’s teasing you—but that doesn’t stop the way your stomach swoops, the way your grip tightens around your phone like it might steady you.

“Jungkook—”

“Mm?” He hums, all faux innocence, and you know he’s enjoying this.

You scowl, even as your face burns.

“Just—just text me the time,” you mutter before promptly hanging up, your heart pounding.

A cut off Nari-screech has you giggling at your phone before you freak out. You are actually meeting Jungkook outside of work. This time he isnt your customer, and you arent his waitress.

You groan, shoving your face into your hands.

Tomorrow is going to kill you, in a good way and a bad way.

——

Tomorrow comes faster than it should.

You’re pacing your apartment, stomach in knots, while Nari lounges on your couch with her legs crossed, watching you spiral like it’s her favorite pastime. For once, she’s at your place instead of the other way around—probably because she knew you’d need the support. You tug at the hem of your sweater, staring at your reflection in the full-length mirror near the door, then groaning as you grab a different one.

“Are you seriously changing again?” Nari deadpans. “Babe, it’s a casual date. Casual. You know what that means?”

You shoot her a glare through the mirror. “I know what it means, Nari.”

“Then why the fuck do you have, like, six different outfits lined up like you’re about to walk a runway?” She shakes her head, biting back a smirk. “You could show up in a garbage bag and he’d still drool.”

Your stomach flips at the thought, but you try to play it cool. “It’s not a date.”

Nari snorts. “You’re meeting up with a guy who has been acting like a human pretzel of regret for the past 24 hours, and he made sure to find the most secluded restaurant possible so you guys wouldn’t be interrupted. Babe, it’s a date.”

You don’t argue, because—well, yeah.

Still, the nerves are relentless. You fuss with your hair while Nari leans forward, propping her chin on her palm. She watches you carefully, something unreadable in her expression.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally settled on a simple yet flattering outfit- A denim skirt, which you’ve managed to dress down with a white crewneck hoodie and some tights since it’s cold. Nari helped with your hair and makeup, which turned into an oddly sentimental moment.

“You know,” she murmured as she curled a piece of your hair, “he was really freaking out about you.”

You blinked. “What?”

“That night at the restaurant.” She hesitated for a second before meeting your eyes in the mirror. “When he called you, I’ve never seen him like that. He looked—panicked. Like, genuinely scared he’d fucked up for good.”

Your heart squeezed.

Nari put the curler down and turned you to face her. “I promise you, you have nothing to worry about.”

Her words settled something in you, but there was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, something she wasn’t saying.

Because what she didn’t tell you—what she kept to herself—was what Jungkook had admitted that night.

I think I like her.

She didn’t say it because it wasn’t her place. But as she looked at you now, biting your lip, filled with doubt you shouldn’t have, she wished you knew.

A buzz interrupted the moment.

Your head snaps to it, but you don’t move immediately. It’s only when Nari gives you a pointed look that you snatch it up, thumb unlocking the screen.

[ iMessage ]

Jungkook [10 mins ago]: I’m outside. Take your time :)

And yes, you did change his name.

You stare at the message, a flush creeping up your neck. You hadn’t even noticed.

Nari peers over. “Ohhh. He didn’t want to rush you. What a gentleman,” she teases, bumping her shoulder against yours.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the little tug in your chest. Instead of texting back, you call him. The phone rings once before he picks up.

“Hey,” you say. “I—wait, are you seriously just sitting out there?”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, hesitantly, he says, “I… don’t know if I should come to the door.”

Nari snatches the phone before you can react. “You will fucking come to the door,” she says, voice dripping with authority. “Okay?”

You can hear Jungkook stammering on the other end. “I just—if someone sees—”

“Oh my god,” Nari groans, exasperated. “Her neighborhood is literally filled with old people. None of them care, trust me. Get your ass out of the car, Jungkook.”

You reclaim your phone, shaking your head. “You don’t have to,” you say, voice quieter now. “If you really don’t want to”- A pause.

Then, a deep breath. “No, it’s fine,” he says. “I’ll come.”

The moment you hang up, Nari smirks. “See? Easy.”

When the knock finally comes, it’s softer than you expect—hesitant, almost.

You pull the door open before you can think twice.

And—

Jungkook is standing there, bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. His hood is pulled up, shielding most of his face, but it does nothing to hide the way his eyes widen slightly when he sees you. The way his lips part—just the smallest bit, like he’s forgotten how to speak.

He’s staring.

Like he wasn’t expecting you to look like this.

Like he’s seeing something he shouldn’t allow himself to want.

His gaze moves—slow, almost unwilling—from the curve of your jaw to the slope of your shoulders, to the way your sweater hangs loosely, bunching slightly at your wrists where your fingers are curled into the fabric. And then, finally, back up to your face, lingering on your lips before flicking to your eyes.

“You look…” He swallows thickly, fiddling with his lip ring, his voice lower than usual. “Really pretty.”

You weren’t prepared for this.

You can feel the warmth creeping up your neck, your pulse thrumming under your skin. “Oh. Uh-. Thanks, you too.”

Jungkook exhales a quiet laugh, like he can’t believe himself. He glances away for a second, rubbing at the back of his neck, and you notice the way his fingers tense slightly—like he’s trying to ground himself.

Behind you, there’s a not-so-quiet shuffle.

You don’t have to turn around to know Nari is still there, probably grinning like she’s witnessing the climax of a rom-com.

You grab your bag and throw on your high top converse, about to step outside when—

A hand clamps down on Jungkook’s shoulder.

He startles.

“Listen up, buddy.”

Nari’s voice is saccharine sweet, but there’s an edge to it. She leans in slightly, tilting her head with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “If you fuck this up, I will personally remove your balls, okay?”

Jungkook blinks.

She pats his shoulder, fingers squeezing slightly for emphasis. “Good talk.”

And then, just as quickly, she’s beaming at you. Giving you a hug and pressing a peck to your cheek, “Have fun, babe!”

You’re mortified.

Jungkook looks like he’s just had a near-death experience. He clears his throat, jaw working like he’s trying not to laugh. “Remind me never to piss her off.”

“That’s probably for the best,” you mutter, shutting the door behind you.

You glance up at him, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you are, the way the night air carries the faintest trace of his cologne—something warm and clean and a little bit dangerous.

Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then offers his hand.

“You ready?”

Your fingers brush against his as you take it, warmth bleeding into your skin.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Let’s go.”

You step out onto the quiet street, the night air crisp against your skin. The neighborhood is still, the only sound the distant hum of a car passing a few blocks away. Jungkook’s hand is still wrapped around yours, his grip firm but not forceful, like he’s giving you the option to pull away if you want to.

You don’t.

But as you both start walking toward his car, you can feel it—his hesitation. The slight way his fingers tighten around yours. The way his pace slows, just barely.

And then he speaks.

“Listen,” he starts, voice quieter now, like he’s trying to measure his words carefully. “I think I know what’s going through your head right now.”

You glance up at him, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. His jaw is tense, his brows furrowed like he’s fighting an internal battle.

He exhales through his nose, running a hand through his hair before gripping yours again, firmer this time. “I promise you, I won’t get you into that mess again, hopefully no-one in this neighborhood gives a shit about me. And if they do—” he hesitates, lips pressing together before sighing, “if this is really messing with you, I can just… act like I don’t know you until we get to the car or whatever.”

That makes you stop.

Your grip on his hand slackens slightly, and Jungkook notices immediately, his head snapping toward you. His expression flickers—something uncertain, something almost pained—before he shakes his head.

“No,” he says quickly, like he’s realizing his own mistake. “No, fuck that. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to make you feel like that, not again.”

You swallow, unsure of what to say.

“I just—” he exhales sharply, glancing up at the darkened windows of the houses around you before lowering his gaze back to you. His voice is firm now, determined. “Fuck what they think. I’m a grown-ass man, what the fuck am I even doing? Ah sorry-“

But you can hear it—the frustration in his voice, not toward you, but toward himself. And that’s when it starts to creep in—guilt, twisting low in your stomach.

Because it’s not about you.

Not really.

It’s about whatever past shit he’s been through, whatever weight he’s been carrying for so long that even something as simple as holding someone’s hand in public makes him hesitate.

You shift slightly, voice softer now. “Jungkook…”

He looks at you then, properly, his gaze locking onto yours like he’s bracing for whatever you’re about to say.

And when you don’t speak right away, he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I promise you, it’s not you,” he says, more certain this time. “It’s just—” he pauses, shaking his head slightly. “All this shit… the rumors, the speculation… it fucks with you. After a while, it’s like—you stop seeing yourself as a person and more like some kind of… public spectacle, and- I don’t want you to feel the way I do.”

Your chest tightens.

He exhales, dropping his gaze. “I really don’t want to fuck this up again.”

There’s something so raw about the way he says it—like he’s already afraid he’s ruined whatever this is before it’s even started.

And maybe that’s why, without thinking, you squeeze his hand.

Jungkook blinks, looking down at where your fingers are intertwined. Then he looks back up at you, something unreadable in his eyes.

“We’re fine,” you say, voice steadier than you expected. “I promise.”

Something in his shoulders loosens, just slightly.

And then, finally, you reach his car.

Jungkook hesitates for only a second before letting go of your hand, moving around to open the passenger side door for you.

You raise an eyebrow. “Wow. Chivalry.”

He scoffs, shaking his head as he gestures for you to get in. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it.”

But when you settle into your seat and glance at him through the window, you catch it—that small, barely-there smile tugging at his lips.

And somehow, you think—maybe he needed this moment just as much as you did.

You settle into the plush leather seat, fingers instinctively grazing over the sleek, expensive interior. The door clicks shut beside you, the faintest scent of cologne and something warm, something distinctly him, wrapping around you.

And then it really hits you.

This car—this wasn’t just any car.

This was luxury. The kind of car that had no business looking this pristine, no business existing outside of some overproduced commercial where men in tailored suits sipped whiskey and talked stocks. It was sleek, powerful, effortlessly expensive—more than you could even begin to guess.

And suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of just how different your worlds really are.

You exhale, glancing around before letting out a quiet, half-disbelieving laugh. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter under your breath.

Jungkook smirks from the driver’s seat, one hand draped over the wheel, the other adjusting something on the console. “What?”

You gesture vaguely, sinking back into the seat. “Nothing. Just… I think I’m sitting in, like, ten years of my salary right now.”

His grin deepens, amusement flickering in his eyes. And then, without warning, he revs the engine, the sound deep and rich, vibrating through your bones in a way that makes you jolt slightly in surprise.

He glances at you, smug. “You like it?”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Don’t get too flattered. Just a little.”

Jungkook hums, clearly pleased with himself, as he shifts the car into drive, easing out of your neighborhood with a smoothness that shouldn’t be possible.

The streets pass in a blur of soft yellow streetlights and quiet suburban houses. The city in the distance glows faintly, a promise of movement, of something bigger just beyond reach.

For a while, it’s silent, save for the low hum of the engine and the occasional swish of passing cars. Then, Jungkook shifts slightly, one hand drumming against the wheel.

“Are you gonna tell me more about yourself?” he asks, glancing at you briefly. “Because, if I’m being completely honest, I don’t really know much about you.”

You blink, surprised by the sudden turn in conversation.

Then you narrow your eyes. “That’s kind of your fault, isn’t it?”

His lips quirk up, amused. “Okay, fair. But still. I feel like I should know more about you by now.”

You tilt your head, considering. “We can save that for later.”

Jungkook exhales a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Fine. Later.”

The traffic light ahead flickers red, and the car slows to a smooth stop. It’s only then that you feel it—the weight of his gaze on you.

You glance over, catching him just as he looks away, jaw tightening slightly like he’s been caught. But then, after a beat, he lets himself look again, this time unabashed, his voice softer.

“You really do look pretty tonight.”

Something stirs low in your stomach, a warmth creeping up your neck. You look away quickly, staring out the windshield. “Shut up.”

Jungkook grins, tilting his head slightly. “What? I can’t compliment you now?”

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “You’re—”

But before you can finish, a familiar melody drifts through the speakers, low and smooth, a gentle jazz tune filling the space between you. It’s old—something timeless, the kind of song that lingers even if you can’t name it.

And then—softly, almost unconsciously—you hear him.

Jungkook hums the melody under his breath, tapping his fingers against the wheel, voice so natural, so effortless, that you almost don’t catch it at first.

But when you do, your brows lift in surprise.

“You know this song?”

He glances at you, brow arching. “You do?”

You nod, leaning back slightly. “Yeah. My dad used to play this kind of stuff all the time.”

Jungkook’s expression shifts—just slightly, but you catch it. A flicker of something more than just casual conversation. Something familiar.

“My mom, actually,” he admits, voice quieter now. “She loved this kind of music.”

And just like that, the air changes.

It’s not just flirtation anymore.

It’s something else—something warm, something real, something shared.

And as the city lights blur past the window, the song plays on, filling the spaces between words that don’t need to be spoken.

After a few more laughs, some teasing remarks, and an effortless flow of conversation, the car finally pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant.

And suddenly, you don’t want to get out.

Not because you don’t want to go inside, but because—this? Sitting here, just talking with Jungkook, letting the city hum around you, the low music still playing in the background—this feels like enough.

Like maybe you could stay in this moment just a little longer.

But then, he unbuckles his seatbelt, and you shake the thought away. You reach for your own, but before you can move, Jungkook’s already opening his door, stepping out into the night.

You turn slightly, glancing over—

And immediately regret it.

His shirt lifts slightly as he stretches, just enough to reveal a sliver of tanned skin, the faintest hint of defined abs underneath.

Your brain betrays you in an instant.

Heat rushes to your face, mortifying and all-consuming.

You snap your gaze away so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash, eyes darting straight ahead, willing your thoughts to shut the hell up.

But then, before you can spiral further, the passenger door opens beside you.

Jungkook stands there, one hand gripping the top of the car, the other extended towards you. His dark eyes flicker with amusement, but he says nothing, just watches as you blink up at him.

“Are you gonna sit there all night?” His voice is low, teasing.

You clear your throat, taking his hand before your own hesitation betrays you. “Shut up,” you mutter, letting him help you out.

The cool night air does nothing to ease the warmth in your face, but thankfully, Jungkook doesn’t press further. Instead, his fingers tighten slightly around yours as you start toward the restaurant.

It’s a Korean barbecue grill, sleek and modern, but still cozy. The scent of sizzling meat and rich spices wafts through the air as you step inside, immediately wrapping around you.

Jungkook sighs dramatically. “I could die happy here.”

You snort. “It’s that serious?”

“You don’t get it,” he says, eyes gleaming. “Korean barbecue is life. I’d probably combust without it.”

You roll your eyes. “A little dramatic, don’t you think?”

Jungkook grins, pulling you a little closer as a waiter approaches. “You’ll understand soon enough.”

And then—before you can even process it—he squeezes your hand, just briefly, just enough for you to feel it.

Your stomach flips.

This man is going to ruin you.

The waiter, a young girl with a bright smile, greets you both and starts leading you toward a table near the back. It’s a secluded booth, dimly lit, with a grill built into the center. The perfect spot to disappear from prying eyes.

Jungkook lets you slide in first before settling across from you.

And then, suddenly—

It hits you.

Because now, there’s nothing else. No car ride to distract you, no outside world pulling at your attention. Just Jungkook. Just the space between you. Just—

Him.

And somehow, this is worse.

Because now, you can see him properly.

His face—sharp jaw, dark lashes, lips that should not look that good just existing—somehow looks even better up close, even better than anything you’ve seen online.

Which is unfair.

It’s criminal, actually.

Your eyes flicker down to the table, to the menu, to literally anywhere else.

Jungkook tilts his head slightly, watching you.

And then—slowly—he smirks.

“You’re staring,” he says.

Your head snaps up. “I am not.”

His smirk deepens. “You totally were.”

Your eyes narrow. “Maybe your ego needs to be checked.”

Jungkook leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. “Maybe you’re just bad at hiding things.”

You glare. He grins.

The tension between you is charged, playful, but undeniably thick. And you hate that he knows it. That he’s revelling in it.

You’re about to throw back another remark when the waiter reappears, notepad in hand.

And immediately, you notice.

The shift in her posture, the slight batting of her lashes. The way her voice is just a touch softer when she turns to Jungkook.

“And what can I get for you?” she asks, lips curving.

It’s not aggressive. Not rude.

But it’s obvious.

And maybe—just maybe—you hate that you notice.

Jungkook, however, doesn’t seem to care. He barely looks at her, just gives his order in the same easy tone he used before. No extra charm. No effortless flirting. Just—normal.

And that’s what catches you off guard. Because you remember how he was when you were his waitress.

The way he had teased, the way he had looked at you, the way he had lingered just long enough to make you question everything.

And now—now it’s different.

It’s different with her.

And that means something.

You just don’t know what.

The dim light overhead casts shadows across Jungkook’s face, making every sharp line and curve even more defined. His jaw—sculpted, almost unreal—tightens slightly as he shifts in his seat, dark eyes flickering over the menu before landing back on you.

His features are striking up close. Strong brows, slightly furrowed in thought. A straight nose, perfectly proportioned. And his lips—plump, slightly parted as he exhales. It’s frustrating how effortless it is for him to look like this, like he was crafted with too much attention to detail, like the universe took its time with him.

And the worst part?

He knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

The way he watches you, eyes gleaming with something teasing, something unreadable. It’s like he’s waiting for you to look at him again, waiting for you to fall right into whatever spell he’s weaving.

You refuse.

Mostly.

The drinks arrive before either of you can say anything else, the waiter setting them down with a small bow before retreating.

Jungkook reaches for his glass, swirling the liquid slightly before taking a sip. He hums in approval, then leans back in his seat, his gaze finding yours again.

“So,” he starts, tilting his head slightly. “Are you gonna tell me more about yourself?”

You arch a brow. “What do you mean?”

He sets his drink down, resting an arm on the table. “I mean, I don’t actually know that much about you.” His lips twitch slightly. “Apart from the fact that you make a mean iced Americano and that you secretly like my music.”

You scoff. “I never said I liked it.”

Jungkook smirks. “You didn’t have to.”

Your face warms, but before you can argue, he exhales deeply, his expression softening. “Seriously, though,” he murmurs. “I wanna know more.”

You hesitate for a moment, then shrug. “My life isn’t that interesting.”

“Try me.”

You pause, biting the inside of your cheek. “Only if you go first.”

Jungkook raises a brow, but then, surprisingly, he nods. “Alright.”

You swirl the straw in your drink, watching the ice spin lazily. Then, with a teasing lilt in your voice, you glance up at Jungkook.

“So,” you start, lips quirking up. “What’s it like being Mr. Famous?”

Jungkook looks at you, amused. “Mr. Famous?”

You shrug. “Yeah. You know, world tours, flashing cameras, private jets. What’s it like?”

You expect him to smirk, to lean into the playful banter, maybe say something cocky like Oh, you know, just the usual—waking up to millions of people screaming my name.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he exhales, rolling his glass between his fingers. “It’s… complicated.”

You blink. That wasn’t the answer you were expecting.

Jungkook leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “At first, it was everything I wanted,” he continues. “The music, the performances, the fans—it was exciting. It still is, in a lot of ways.” He pauses, eyes lowering to his drink. “But sometimes…”

His voice trails off, and his fingers tighten around the glass.

“Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t Jungkook.”

Your stomach twists.

Jungkook lets out a small, humorless laugh. “I know it sounds ungrateful. I have everything—fame, success, money, whatever. But it’s like… I don’t even know who I am outside of all of that. Outside of what people expect from me.”

His words hang between you, heavy. You don’t say anything—just listen.

“Do you ever regret it?” you ask softly.

He hesitates. Then, “No,” he says. “But sometimes, I wonder who I would’ve been if I never did it.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

So instead, you reach for your own drink, taking a slow sip before speaking.

“Well,” you murmur. “My life is a lot different from yours.”

Jungkook huffs a small chuckle. “Yeah?”

You nod. “It’s… simple. Maybe even boring to someone like you.” You swirl the straw in your drink again. “But I don’t think I’d change it. I like the little things—the slow mornings, the quiet nights. I like having my regulars at the diner, knowing exactly how they like their coffee. I like walking home and seeing the same old couple sitting on their porch every evening.”

Jungkook watches you intently, his eyes searching yours.

You glance at him. “I think if I lost all of that, I wouldn’t know who I was either.”

He stays quiet for a moment. Then—

“I envy you.”

Your breath catches.

Jungkook leans back slightly, a small, wistful smile tugging at his lips. “I envy how content you are with what you have.” He tilts his head, eyes dark and unreadable. “You don’t need the world to know you to feel like you exist.”

The air between you shifts.

Heavy. Intimate.

You don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything.

Jungkook doesn’t either.

He just looks at you.

And for a second, it feels like he’s seeing you the way you just saw him—like he’s not just looking at you, but through you. Like maybe, somehow, you’re exactly what he’s been missing.

The silence lingers until— “Your food is ready.” The waiter’s voice snaps you both out of it, and just like that, the moment is gone.

Jungkook clears his throat, blinking as he straightens up. You quickly reach for your drink again, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your hands shake slightly. But when you glance up, he’s still looking at you. And somehow, you know— That moment wasn’t nothing.

He uses his barbecue skills and cooks your meat for you, and for a while, you eat in comfortable silence.

There’s something about it—the soft clinking of chopsticks against plates, the occasional glance exchanged between you, the faint hum of the restaurant around you—that feels… nice. Like there’s no rush to fill the space with words, no pressure to entertain.

Just being here, just sharing a meal with him, feels enough. Until

Jungkook interrupts it.

“I think we need drinks.”

You glance up, chopsticks pausing mid-air. “Oh?”

He nods, already flagging down the waiter. “Yeah. Beer. We’re getting beer.”

You squint at him, amused. “You sound very sure of that.”

“I am.” He leans forward slightly, grinning. “You weren’t gonna drink tonight, huh?”

You roll your eyes. “Not particularly.”

“Mm.” He tilts his head. “And yet, I have a feeling you’re about to.”

“You aren’t driving?”

“Nah. i’ll get someone to pick us up.”

You scoff, shaking your head. But when the waiter comes over, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. “Two beers, please.”

And the funniest thing happens.

“Can I see your ID?” the waiter asks.

You freeze, eyes widening as a slow, wicked smile stretches across your lips. Jungkook blinks, then lets out a small breath of disbelief. “Are you serious?”

The waiter just nods, waiting expectantly.

“Oh, my God,” you murmur, biting back laughter. “I remember when you asked me to ID you at the restaurant.”

Jungkook groans, pulling out his wallet. “I can’t escape this.”

“No, you absolutely cannot.”

You watch as he slides his ID over, sighing dramatically. The waiter glances at it, then hands it back with a small bow. “Thank you, sir.”

Jungkook mutters something under his breath, and you can’t help but giggle. “This is amazing,” you say.

He gives you a flat look. “Laugh it up.”

“Oh, I will.”

The beers arrive a moment later, and you clink glasses before taking a sip. It’s cold, crisp, a little too easy to drink.

Jungkook smirks at you over the rim of his glass. “Not so bad, huh?”

You shrug. “Don’t get cocky.”

And then, somehow, the conversation turns playful again. You tease him about his ID mishap, he teases you about how you nearly choked on your drink earlier, and the laughter between you is effortless, bubbling up naturally like you’ve known each other for years.

At one point, Jungkook does an impression of a particularly dramatic customer from your restaurant, and you nearly spit out your beer. “Stop,” you gasp between laughs, pressing a hand to your stomach.

He grins, eyes crinkling. “What? It’s accurate.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. But there’s warmth in your chest, a lightness in your limbs. Maybe it’s the beer. Maybe it’s him.

By the time you finish eating, there’s a pleasant buzz in your head, and judging by the way Jungkook’s leaning back in his seat, grinning lazily, you think he’s feeling it too.

Neither of you move to leave.

It’s time to go, you know that. The plates are empty, the drinks are nearly gone. But you can’t will yourself to get up. Not until he does.

And for some reason, he doesn’t seem in any rush either.

Eventually, though, he sighs, stretching his arms above his head. “Come on,” he says, tilting his head toward the door. “Let’s go outside for a bit before we head out.”

You nod, following him as he weaves through the tables, out the front doors, and toward the small smoking area near the sidewalk.

And then, Jungkook pulls out a cigarette.

You don’t know why it makes something inside your lower stomach to flutter. Maybe it’s the way his fingers move, the effortless familiarity of it as he places it between his lips. Maybe it’s the way he tilts his head slightly when he flicks the lighter, the flame illuminating the sharp line of his jaw for a brief second.

Or maybe it’s just the simple fact that, for some reason, watching him smoke is insanely attractive.

He exhales slowly, the smoke curling in the air around him. And all you can do is watch.

Jungkook notices.

His lips twitch. “Something wrong?”

You blink, tearing your gaze away. “No.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Right.”

You sit down on the ledge of the sidewalk, and after a moment, he joins you.

For a while, neither of you speak.

The street is quiet, only a few people passing by, the occasional car rolling past. It’s peaceful in a way you weren’t expecting.

Jungkook doesn’t talk right away, his expression unreadable, but his gaze drops to his hands, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the napkin in front of him. “I don’t really know how to explain it,” he says quietly, as if he’s choosing his words carefully. “… With you, it just feels different. I feel like I can be myself.”

Your heart skips a beat. You blink, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. “Be yourself?”

He nods, lifting his gaze back to you, the hint of vulnerability creeping into his eyes. “Yeah. I don’t feel like I have to put up any kind of front. Not with you.”

“You know,” you murmur, “behind all of the celebrity stuff… I think you’re just a regular person.”

Jungkook glances at you.

You shrug, staring ahead. “I mean, yeah, you’re famous. People see you as larger than life. But at the end of the day, you’re just… you.” You turn to him then, meeting his gaze. “You’re just Jungkook to me.”

Something flickers in his expression.

You don’t know what it is—something vulnerable, something almost startled—but it makes your chest tighten.

Jungkook exhales, tapping his cigarette against the concrete. “You’re doing something to me, you know that?”

Your breath catches.

And then—

He looks at you, something unreadable in his gaze. “You’re really something different, Y/N.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

But somehow, you know that whatever he means, it’s deeper than the words themselves.

So you don’t say anything at all.

You just lean your head against his shoulder, basking in eachothers company.

And for a long, long time, neither of you move.

Until—

Your phone buzzes, and it’s a message from Nari.

You quickly text her back, asking her to pick you guys up, considering you feel Jungkook’s already done more than enough tonight. It’s not like she’d mind, she’d never mind. And you have a feeling this debrief is gonna be interesting- in a good way.

It’s been a few minutes. Jungkook’s cig is long gone, yet he’s still holding on to the tip of it, you figure its cause he wants something to do with his hands, but you don’t question it.

You’re equally as nervous as he is, though it’s not as extreme as it may have been a few hours ago, you feel better- reassured.

His speech is slightly slurred when he looks over at you, your head still resting on his shoulder, and he cant help but smile, “Did you really not know who I was? You know- Not to sound cocky, but my band is pretty big.” He winks, and you laugh.

“Nah, i’ve never really gotten into K-pop too much, sure- ive heard of BTS, Who hasn’t? But Nari- God Nari- she’s the one to talk to- I mean she likes that one band- What is it? Stray kids? Something like that- Yeah she loves them. She told me all about you when she first showed up, you should’ve seen the look on her face when I told her ‘Whats the big deal?”

“Ah- That’s cool, so what kind of music are you into anyway? Have you checked out any of my songs before? If you want i-“ He hesitates, but continues anyway. “I can play some for you, you can come to my studio, and i’ll sing for you.”

He begins to protest,and you forget he can’t see your face, considering you have the fattest smile on it right now. “If you want- You don’t have to-“

“No, I’d love to.” You look up at him, and your breath catches in his throat. You don’t need to say much more, you know you don’t.

You look at each other for a little longer, ignoring the nervous flutter in your stomach from the eye contact, until a car horn beeps at you.

You look up, Nari’s here.

As soon as you slide into the car, Nari throws you a look. It’s not full-on dramatic, but it’s enough to say, “Ohhh, I see what’s going on here.”

She doesn’t freak out, though—just snorts as she pulls away from the curb. “You two spent the whole night staring at each other or what?”

Jungkook just grins, stretching out in the backseat beside you, his knee knocking against yours. “Maybe.”

You roll your eyes, but the warmth creeping up your neck betrays you. “Shut up.”

The car fills with easy laughter, and for a while, the conversation is just…nothing. Nari’s talking about some drama at work, you’re chiming in with sarcastic remarks, and Jungkook?

Jungkook is just looking at you.

Not in a way that makes you uncomfortable—far from it. He’s got that lazy, lopsided smile, eyes half-lidded from the buzz of the night, and every time you meet his gaze, he just smiles wider.

And God, you’re not even really talking, but somehow, you are. Just in the way he nudges your foot with his, or how his fingers drum lazily against his knee like he’s trying to match the rhythm of the car radio.

Nari catches it in the rearview mirror, the way you two keep exchanging these quiet, tipsy little looks, and she just shakes her head, smiling to herself. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to.

Jungkook’s apartment building is ridiculous.

That’s the first thing Nari says when she pulls up to the entrance, eyes sweeping over the sleek, modern exterior, the kind of place that probably has a concierge that greets you by name and a lobby that smells like wealth.

“Damn,” she whistles, leaning forward over the steering wheel. “I knew you were rich, but this? You really live like this?”

Jungkook just huffs a tired laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s not that crazy.”

“You probably have a fridge that talks to you.”

“…Okay, maybe.”

You snort, glancing over at him, but your stomach twists a little when you realize this is where the night ends.

Nari shifts into park and turns to you. “Go walk him, come on.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, but when you look at him, you see it—that flicker of hesitation in his eyes, the way his shoulders tense just slightly. He doesn’t want to tell you no. You can tell.

And then it hits you.

Of course, he doesn’t want to be seen with you out there, right in front of his building. It’s not about you—it’s about them. The people who actually know where he lives. The ones who would take one picture and turn it into something you’re not sure you’re ready for.

So you shake your head, offering him a small smile. “It’s okay. I’ll stay here.”

Jungkook looks at you for a second longer, and then—there it is. That quiet, relieved smile, like he didn’t even need to explain himself, like you just get it.

“…Okay,” he says softly.

But neither of you move.

You’re both sitting there, waiting, stretching the moment out just a little longer, even though you know it has to end. Your hands twitch in your lap. His fingers flex against his jeans. You don’t know what you want to say, and maybe you don’t need to say anything, but—

“Jungkook,” you say, barely above a whisper.

He looks at you, tired and warm and so beautiful, and you swear he’s about to say something too, but then—

Knock knock.

You both startle.

Nari, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel. “Are you getting out or are you moving in?”

Jungkook laughs under his breath, but when he turns back to you, it’s not the same easy teasing smile as before. It’s something softer, something you can’t quite name.

“I’ll see you soon?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah.”

And finally, he opens the door.

[ink-n-shadow]

Hmm thinking about angel reading in a book about the exotic and rare flowers on earth, shoving the page in demon!simon face :

“I want” she frowns a little “please..”

“sure.” He sighs

PLEASE THIS IS THE SWEETEST IDEA???

"you're not even lookin'," you whine softly as you try to shove the book you're reading further onto the one that ghost is reading, nail scraping against the page when you swirl your finger in a circle around the flower. "it's the rarest flower on earth, ghost!"

ghost finally acquiesces when you cover the line of the book he's reading, lifting his coal black eyes up to glance over the image of the flower you're trying to show him. it's frighteningly bright red, almost rose-like in the way it has petals looping round and round of a tight center. its petals are slightly more pointed than a rose's petals, giving it a rougher appearance.

"aye—s'real pretty, angel," ghost nods softly as his eyes skim the top of the book's page, taking in the name of the flower and committing it to memory—middlemist's red camellia. "can i go back to m'book now?"

you pout as you pull your book back into your lap, turning slightly away from ghost and burying your cheek further into the corded sinew of his thick bicep. "fine. go back to your book then."

and you're convinced that ghost seemingly forgets out the flower and your excitement over its beauty until one day when you're lounging on the plush sofa of his living room, feet kicked up over the arm as you quickly skim through the book once more.

you don't even notice ghost standing over you until one of his clawed hands tickles it way up your calf, making you squirm and kick at his forearm. "ghost, stop! y'know i don't like when you—"

but your words fall apart on your tongue when you notice the glass case ghost has balanced on his large palm, eyes widening as you realize what's inside. there's no way that it's—

"got ya that flower you were after," ghost mumbles softly, fighting against the proud smile that's itching its way onto the corner of his lips as he watches you scramble to sit up and take the encased flower excitedly. "could've told me how hard it would be to find it though. had to make a lot of fuckin' deals for it."

link to all my works in the demon!ghost au can be found here