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#20 of those hours in the past 3-4 days ^_^
thalialunacy · 18 hours
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[for the @calaisreno May Prompts Squad; in which there are many Holmeses and parenting is a contact sport]
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) 20: do-over
It's a new week, and John declares on Monday he's certain it's going to be easier than the last one.
What an idiot.
---
By the time they reach Wednesday, they've not been back from hospital twenty-four hours when Sherlock's dear mama orders them onto a train. 
'Mother,' Sherlock hisses into his mobile, glancing across the room to where John is firmly planted on the sofa with his daughter tight in his arms, watching Peppa Pig. 'Rosamund just got out of A&E. We don't want to go down the street, let alone out to a place so far from an adequate hospital that--' 
'Oh, poppycock' 
'I'm sorry?' 
'Now, don't be angry at me, darling. I know you must be frightened to bits for your little girl--' 
Sherlock turns away from the sofa again, chest clenching for the approximately thousandth time in the past two days. 'She's not my little girl,' he says between his teeth, trying to keep his voice steady and quiet.
'--but I'm only trying to help.'
Sherlock knows it's one of those times John would be a much better fit for the task at hand. Unfortunately, she's stuck with her son instead. 'Mummy. Clearly, that would not help.'
'You're not planning on feeding her peanuts again, are you?'
Sherlock closes his eyes. 'I won't dignify that with an answer.'
'Then pack an epipen and come see your mother. I want to kiss that baby.'
---
John is doing his best, Sherlock observes once they're gathered round his parents' kitchen table, but he's clearly still feeling scads of parental guilt. He refuses to let Rosamund out of his sight, and his jaw keeps doing that jumpy bit that means he's repressing something. Several somethings, obviously, because he is John Watson.
And Sherlock almost abhors how much he cares for John Watson.
---
His mother, naturally, can't hold back for long. 
'Oh, John, I do hate to see you like this.'
John freezes like the proverbial deer in headlights, then carefully puts down his fork, stiff upper lip firmly in place. 'Thanks, Mrs Holmes, but I'm all right.' 
Sherlock, who knows better, shares a Look with Rosamund, who blurps his name(ish) then happily stuffs more pickle into her mouth. John's face softens momentarily, and she notices. 'Want some, Daddy?'
It's not a question; John is immediately handed a chubby fistful of globby green.
'She not a fan of spoons, then?' Sherlock's father says with a chuckle.
'Only as a weapon,' Sherlock replies without thinking, but luckily it's the correct audience, because beyond an eye roll, the reaction is mostly laughter.
Except for John, Sherlock notices immediately. Oh, dear.
His mother notices, too, and her lips purse. 'John, I know we're all very English, but I'm old enough that I can speak plainly.'
'As if you hadn't already,' Sherlock mutters.
She ignores him, instead reaching out to touch John's right hand where it rests on the table. 'You mustn't punish yourself. You've done nothing wrong.'
John's extreme discomfort would be crystal clear to anyone in a ten mile radius. 'Mrs Holmes…'
'I mean it.'
He puts down his fork, and Sherlock sees him inhale purposefully. 'All due respect, ma'am, but my daughter nearly died. She nearly died because I insisted she eat something she clearly and repeatedly did not want to eat.'
'And?'
John's mouth opens, then shuts, before he speaks again. 'Are you joking?'
'Everyone makes mistakes with their children, dear.'
'Not that sort of mistake.'
She makes a noise close to a ladylike snort, if such a thing existed. 'We almost drowned Sherlock when he was her age.'
Sherlock's front chair legs drop back to the floor with a thunk. 'Beg pardon?'
'Yes, you came frightfully close to dying, it was very unpleasant.'
John's facade breaks enough to give Sherlock a slight smirk. 'And you didn't recognise my facetiousness on that train?'
'Yes, yes, thank you, now what is this about me drowning, Mother?'
'We left you with another child, a girl of maybe twelve.' She shakes her head. 'That poor girl. She's never forgiven herself.'
'But I didn't die!'
'Sherlock,' his mother chides. 'Don't be unkind.'
'Wait. Why didn't I die?'
A curious silence falls over the group. 
Sherlock's chin drops, and he sighs. 'Mycroft.'
His mother nods. 'He was in the deeper end, and you were in the shallow end. Where you were meant to stay.'
John huffs a laugh. 'Right, good luck with that.'
She tuts. 'He's lucky his brother was watching.'
'You don't remember any of it?' John asks, clearly curious.
Sherlock thinks. 'I remember a pool, several pools, from childhood. Various ponds. I remember-- Yes, I think the first time I ventured into the deep end, I blinked and I was at the ladder.'
'Indeed,' his mother says.
'Right,' John says, bemused. 'So you've always hated pools, even before we nearly got blown up in one.'
His mother blinks. 'Beg pardon?'
'Oh don't fret, Mummy.' Sherlock waves a hand. 'It was ages ago.'
And worse things have happened since then, no one needs say.
Except his mother says it, sort of. 'She's going to have such unusual stories to tell,' she says, turning to Rosamund and touching her tiny nose briefly. 'Aren't you, darling?'
'Any hope of a normal childhood was gone long ago, I'm afraid,' John says, his voice only a little strained.
Sherlock's father, unexpectedly, speaks up. 'Perhaps, but what she's got is better.'
'I agree,' his mother says. 'John's normal enough for the three of you, anyway.'
Sherlock smirks privately. Yes, absolutely normal, building-jumping, gun-toting, life-saving John Watson.
As if he'd ever fall in love with "normal."
That's the end of the discussion, apparently, because his mother turns back to Rosamund with a smile. 'Now, precious girl, let's see if you can say "grandmama" yet.' 
---
John, still feeling slightly sour, pulls out his phone once he's put Rosie down. 'Mycroft.' His tone borders on Captainy, but he's too bloody tired to be polite. 'What are you playing at?'
'Couldn't possibly have any idea what you mean, Dr Watson.'
'First my daughter is calling you her uncle, and now your mum is teaching her "grandmama"?'
'I fail to see the problem. She's very intelligent.'
John pinches the bridge of his nose. He can't shout, because Rosie is asleep in her cot next to him, and though Sherlock is outside smoking, Sherlock's parents are somewhere on the other side of the guest room door.
'Your brother,' he finally says lowly, 'cares for Rosie a great deal, but has most definitely not voiced an interest in being her father, nor should he feel obligated to.'
'With all due respect, John, I must disagree.'
'How.' It's not a question.
Mycroft's voice isn't hard, but he enunciates every word very, very clearly. 'She is my niece. If you can't see it, then God help you... Although I am aware my brother has inherited more than his fair share of the Holmes reticence. But,' he concludes, implacable, 'lest you forget: He said it himself. You are family. And therein lies the obligation.' 
John's heart does a little twitch in his chest. 'Yeah, but--'
'No.'
'But--'
'Not to sound too much like my dear brother, but John?'
John exhales. 'Can't wait to hear this.'
'Don't be an idiot.'
'Oi--'
But the call is already over. Of course it is. Because Mycroft Holmes is a bastard.
He might also, maybe, just this once… be right.
[ <3 ]
[pool story lifted from my childhood: I literally remember nothing bad about nearly drowning; my five-years-elder brother saved me and I have loved swimming ever since]
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sweetsweetloverlover · 9 months
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after over 90 hours of actually playing... and over a year and a half of real time..... i can finally say.......... ive finished the phoenix wright ace attorney trilogy </333
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munson-blurbs · 1 year
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
1 | 2 | 3 | 4
Summary: Eddie's guard is back up after overhearing people gossiping about a secret that only you would know about. When he lets his animosity take over, the damage may be too great to repair.
Warnings: angst, Eddie is really mean to Reader, mentions of CPS, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's, slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n
WC: 3.7k
Chapter 4/20
Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika
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Eddie is still fuming when he pulls into the music store’s parking lot. He’s opening today, and his hands tremble as he fumbles with the keys. All of those parents are going to know that he’s a failure of a father.  The Munson reputation clung to him like a bloodsucking leech, regardless of his numerous attempts to shed it. He’s destined to be an outcast at best and a monster at worst. 
Finally managing to unlock the door, Eddie flicks on the lights, blanketing the shop in a hazy glow. The silence is deafening, and he swears that his brain will implode if he doesn’t get some background noise. He walks to the section labeled ‘METAL’ as if on autopilot, grabbing Metallica’s Master of Puppets and shoving the cassette into the player. Ash insists that they play classic rock over the crummy little sound system; something about it being ‘palatable’ for the customers, but she’s not here to scold him. 
He thinks back to when this album was released, towards the end of his third senior year. The good ol’ days, when I only worried about passing O’Donnell’s class and planning Hellfire campaigns, he thinks wryly. But, no; that isn’t quite true. He’d had to worry about the trailer getting repo’d, or whether he and Wayne could stretch their food stamp budget enough to feed two grown men. Concerns that his uncle had tried to hide from him until he no longer could. 
“Ed, you’re eighteen now,” Wayne had said, just one month after Eddie’s birthday, “and I’m gonna need you to start payin’ some bills around here.”
At the time, Eddie thought he was just being a bastard. It wasn’t until a few days later when he’d spotted the envelope marked PAST DUE in bold, red letters that he realized it wasn’t a punishment, but a necessity. 
He’d been selling for Rick ever since. Well, until now. 
“Battery” fades out to “Master of Puppets,” and Eddie flips the CLOSED sign to read OPEN. He glances at the calluses on his hands and smiles sadly, thinking of all the hours he spent learning the chords in his room. After weeks of non-stop practicing—Hetfield’s solo was a bitch—he’d raced down to Gareth’s garage and played all eight minutes straight through. Watched as his friends’ jaws dropped in awe. Gave him a standing ovation. Told him he was a fucking rockstar. 
“You’re a rockstar, all right,” Eddie sarcastically grumbles now, clanging a roll of pennies against the counter before dumping them into the till. “Getting ready to drop your new hit single: Do you want a receipt with that?”
His morning has been nothing short of monotonous: help the customer find what they want, ring them up and make small talk, and then organize (or, in his case, pretend to organize) the store when it’s not busy. 
There’s too much down time for him to be left alone with his thoughts. As soon as he has a moment to himself, he’s ruminating on his regrets of the past. He turns up the music volume in a half-hearted attempt to drown them out, but they manage to worm their way into every nook and cranny of his brain. 
Eight years ago, a twenty-two year old Eddie Munson left his podunk town of Hawkins, Indiana to pursue rock stardom. He’d driven to Chicago with only the pocket change he’d saved up and his guitar on his back. A big city for a man with even bigger dreams. 
It didn’t take him long to realize that being Eddie Munson meant next to nothing in a place that was bursting with musicians desperate for the chance to become famous. He appreciated the anonymity at first; he could blend in without being chased by taunts of Freak or Loser. But after nearly a full year of auditions where he was just another guitarist who could carry a tune, he’d started to lose hope. Prepared to return to Hawkins with his tail between his legs, he’d stopped at the nearby bar for one last drink. 
“We can’t go on without a lead singer and guitarist!”
A frantic voice captured his attention, drawing his gaze from the pint of beer in front of him. 
“Well, Sam bailed. Again,” another man points out, tone heavy with irritation. “So either we go on without him, or we don’t go on at all.”
Eddie finds himself standing up and walking into a conversation where he was never invited. “I, um, play guitar. And sing?” He winces as it comes out like a question. “I can show you, if you want.” What was he doing? He couldn’t line up a gig to save his life, and now he’s offering to play for some band he doesn’t even know?
The two guys, both about his age, exchange a dubious look. “All right,” says one with shaggy dark hair. “Let’s hear what you got, Guitar Boy.” He hands him his own guitar, and Eddie adjusts the strap before diving headfirst into the chorus of the first song that comes to mind:
If you think I'll sit around as the world goes by You're thinkin' like a fool 'cause it's a case of do or die Out there is a fortune waitin' to be had You think I'll let it go you're mad You've got another thing comin'
The other guy cocks his head, a delighted smirk spreading across his face. “Judas Priest. Solid choice.” He paces a bit, twirling a drumstick between his fingers. You got a name, Guitar Boy?” he asks.
Eddie nods. “Eddie Munson.” He sticks out his hand, silently willing it to stop trembling, and shakes theirs.
“I’m Marcus,” the shaggy-haired man says. “This is Bryan. I play backup guitar; he’s on drums. Our bassist should be here soon; his name’s Pete.”
“And Sam was our lead guitarist and singer, but he’s a fucking asshole,” Bryan quips, and Eddie chortles at his brazen attitude. “Anyway, we mostly do covers…check out the setlist and see what you know.” He hands Eddie a crumpled piece of paper, filled with familiar songs and artists.
“I can do any of these,” Eddie says, a satisfied warmth filling his chest as he watches the guys grin even wider.  
“Tell ya what,” Bryan says, plopping behind a drum set plastered with a logo reading Hard Knox. “If you don’t suck tonight, you can play with us permanently.”
“Yeah,” Marcus agrees. “We’re gonna be big, man. We just need someone to help us get there.”
“Let me run back to my place and grab my ax,” Eddie tells them, adrenaline propelling him to his apartment. This was it. This was the break he needed. Just as he was about to give up, God or fate or destiny or whoever was finally giving him a chance to prove himself.
The show went off without a hitch; Eddie’s guitar skills bringing a normally quiet audience to their feet. Bryan clapped him on the back as he looked at Pete and Marcus; the three nodding at each other. “Welcome to Hard Knox!” he announced.
“Sam leaving was the best thing to happen to us,” Pete laughs in agreement. A bartender in a tight skirt and fishnet stockings brings over a round of shots, and the four men clink glasses.
“Fuck Sam!” Eddie shouts before taking the drink. The tequila burns as it coats his throat, but he doesn’t dare reach for the lime. No, he has something to prove.
“Fuck Sam!” the rest of the band echoes enthusiastically. Their choral response reminds Eddie of the way Corroded Coffin used to be before he’d left: when he’d say something, Jeff, Gareth, and Danny would listen. He was born to be a leader.
Things started to fall into place. His one night endeavor with Hard Knox turned into a biweekly gig at the bar, which eventually turned into shows almost every night at various venues across the city. He’d even convinced the guys to play some original work of his, reminding them that cover bands don’t get record deals. 
He had a steady income. A group of friends who appreciated him and his music. Beautiful women who eagerly threw themselves at him at the end of the show. And then it would repeat the following night in a new place. Everything was perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
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Last night’s chaos has you all disheveled; it wasn’t until you got to work this morning that you realized you hadn’t even packed your lunch. You try to convince yourself that you can wait until you get home to eat, but about fifteen minutes before your break, your stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud growl.
“I’m gonna run to the deli and grab something,” you tell Will, throwing your jacket over your shoulders and digging out your car keys. “Want me to pick up anything for you?”
“Uh, Tylenol?” he grimaces, rubbing his temples. The kids had music class today, and the sounds of ten preschoolers singing off-key combined with their clashing tambourines served as a recipe for a pounding headache. “And maybe a bag of sour cream and onion chips?”
“You got it.” You shoot him a thumbs-up as you make your way to the parking lot as quickly as possible, determined to get your food before the lunch rush starts.
You manage to just beat out the crowd of hungry nine-to-fivers, grabbing a veggie wrap to-go. Crunching on a cucumber slice as you take a big bite, you start back towards your car, but the music store next door catches your eye.
A check of your watch confirms that you have a few minutes to peruse, maybe grab a copy of the new Toni Braxton cassette you’d been wanting. If there was ever a day to treat yourself to a little gift, it’s today. Your mind is foggy and your body feels like it’s dragging sandbags as you make your way over. You knew that taking care of an ailing relative would be physically demanding, but you weren’t prepared for the emotional toll it would take. Seeing your grandma helplessly laying on the bathroom floor scared drew all of the oxygen from your lungs, filling your body with worry. And just a few hours later, she was furiously swearing at you, claiming to hate you. She’s an ever-swinging pendulum, and you’re downright exhausted.
A small glob of hummus lands on your lower lip, and your tongue licks it off haphazardly as you push open the door to the music store. The jingle of the bell is meant to alert the employees that a customer has entered, but when you look around, there’s no one there to help you.
You walk towards the aisle labeled R&B, starting by thumbing through the “B” section–nothing. Perplexed, you make your way to the “T” section, still with no luck. Was Toni Braxton so popular amongst Hawkins residents that they’d bought out every copy of Secrets?
“You can’t eat in here,” a terse voice calls out. You’re so startled, you nearly drop your sandwich. A piece of tomato flies out of the tortilla when you jump, hitting the linoleum flooring, and the irritated person sighs. “Aaand this is why.”
You pick up the fallen vegetable and turn around to see Eddie Munson standing before you. “You scared me!” you say, but your body visibly relaxes. Twenty-four hours ago, you never would have guessed that he would have a calming effect on you. How quickly things can change, you muse silently. “Can you help me find the new Toni Braxton? The Secrets cassette?”
Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can you follow simple instructions? No. Eating. In. The. Store.” He rolls his eyes. “Just because you teach preschoolers doesn’t mean you get to act like one.”
The smile that briefly danced across your lips slips into a frown. What the hell happened in the few hours since he’d dropped Harris off at school? Did you imagine that you two had gotten along?
“Are you okay?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion. “I-I can put the wrap in my car, just give me a sec…”
He shakes his head. “No, actually, I’m not okay,” he sneers. “But I bet you knew that already.” He shifts his posture so he’s standing a bit taller. “Y’know, you have some fuckin’ nerve, coming in here after what you did.”
“Did I miss something?” Your voice gets smaller with the gnawing feeling of brewing confrontation acting as a brick on your chest. “I thought–”
“Tell me what you thought,” he interrupts, leaning on a box of tapes. “Wait, no; let me guess. You thought that because I rejected you, you could go around blabbing my personal business around the school.” He scrunches up his face, biting his lip as he looks at you. “Did I get it right?”
“Your personal business?” 
“Mhm,” he answers pointedly, spinning a skull ring around his finger. “Is that not it? Was it because you were embarrassed that I heard your grandma say that she hates you? I don’t blame her, by the way.”
Your force your gaze to remain trained on him, staring into his brown eyes that have hardened with fury. “She doesn’t hate me,” you breathe out, “she just can’t remember me anymore. When she knew who I was, she loved me. A lot.”
“Yeah, whatever you say,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t take away from the fact that everyone and their goddamn dog knows about the CPS report.” 
“What CPS report?” you ask, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach. “Is Harris okay?”
He takes one look at your puzzled expression and barks out a harsh, incredulous laugh. “Seriously? You can drop the innocent act.”
“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about!” you snap, frustrated at his unwillingness to hear you out and your own lack of understanding. “All I know is that this morning, you didn’t hate me–or maybe just hated me a little less–and now you’re back to being the worst human being I’ve ever met.”
Eddie scratches at the shadow of a beard that’s formed on his jawline; an itchy reminder that he didn’t get to shave last night. “You should consider yourself lucky if I’m the worst person you’ve ever met. Tell me, what have I done? Thrown some insults your way?” He claps his palm to his chest exaggeratedly. “How ever did you survive?”
“Mock me and my teaching skills, pretend like you’re going to call when you knew damn well that you weren’t, call me a bitch, and your latest and greatest,” you counter, ticking off the instances on your fingers, “accuse me of something I didn’t do.”
He considers this for a moment, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “So you’re trying to tell me,” he starts, gritting his teeth, “that we were in the same wing of the same hospital at the same time, but you weren’t the one who told people about the CPS case they opened on me?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” you hiss. 
“Then how the fuck did Carol Perkins find out about it?!” His volume raises to a roar, and you wince at the sting it leaves echoing in your eardrums. “Because I fucking heard her talking about it with Steve Harrington! So if you, the person who was there, didn’t open your mouth and tell her, who did? The CPS fairy?”
“I don’t fucking know!” you shout, swallowing thickly in a meager attempt to bide time before the tears inevitably leak from your eyes. “I don’t know, but it wasn’t me.”
Eddie rakes a hand through his frizzy curls, smacking the other on top of the nearby box. “Just…just get out,” he mutters. “I can’t listen to any more of your bullshit.” He starts back towards a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY before turning back around, eyes narrowed. 
“Y’know, I wouldn’t have hooked up with you that night if I knew that this is how you handle a one-night stand,” he says, pursing his lips as he steps closer to you. “And I never should’ve let Harris step foot in your classroom. I would drive him to a school in goddamn Timbuktu if it meant having you out of my life.” He pauses, scraping his teeth across his lower lip and exhaling a terse laugh. “It’s too bad I can’t forget about you like your grandma did.”
The words knock the wind out of your lungs. Your knees buckle slightly, and you have to steady yourself on the closest shelf. Tears blur your vision as your legs carry you out of the store; you feel yourself walking, but it’s like an external force has control of your body. The words fuck you sit on the tip of your tongue, or maybe you say them—it’s too hazy to tell. The world is covered in a shiny layer of cellophane; you can see everything, but you can’t touch. 
You’re crying too hard to drive, so you sit behind the wheel, seatbelt clicked in place, letting out sobs that leave your whole body shuddering. It’s all too much, and though you logically know that Grandma didn’t want to forget you, his comment hit a raw nerve.
It wasn’t a straight path; Alzheimer’s never is. A few months ago, she could remember you in the morning but forgot you by the afternoon. She would call you by name at 9 AM but ask who you were at 2 PM. One day you were her granddaughter; the next, you were a total stranger. You thought it couldn’t hurt more than it already did, but the repeated reminders that she no longer recognizes you at all is a constant knife through the heart.
You’ll be late if you don’t start driving back to work now, so you turn the key in the ignition and adjust the gear shift to reverse. As you look up to glance in the rearview mirror, you catch sight of him. He’s dumbfounded, and you could laugh at how ridiculous it is that it took him seeing you bawling in your car to realize that he went too far this time.
Unable to stomach the thought of further confrontation, you take a deep breath and drive away, leaving him to mull over what just happened.
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He’d assumed you’d left already when he’d walked outside for a smoke break, placing a cigarette between trembling fingers before he’d even left the store. He almost drops the lighter on his scuffed sneaker when he sees you hunched over, resting your arms on the wheel as your body heaves. He’s not sure how long he’s been staring when you lift your head, exposing tear-streaked cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. Your gazes lock for just a millisecond, but it tells him everything he needs to know. 
It wasn’t you.
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When Eddie arrives at the school for pick-up, he scours the crowd of impatient parents for Carol. He finds her talking with another mom; no doubt spreading more gossip about him. Maybe he shouldn’t have pretended that their Satanic cult rumors didn’t bother him when they were back in high school. Maybe if they knew, they would understand that he’s just a goddamn person trying his best, just like everyone else.
“Hey,” he starts, pushing the fear from his voice and willing his strength to remain unwavering. “Who told you about the CPS stuff?”
Carol plasters an obviously fake smile on her face as she responds. “I don’t know what you mean,” she says simply. Her carefree tone pushes Eddie to his limit. 
“Cut the bullshit,” Eddie growls, quickly losing his temper. “I heard you talking to Steve Harrington about it. So either you tell me now, or I’ll make sure your husband knows about that guy I saw you with at the Hideout a couple of months ago.”
Her face blanches, color draining from her cheeks. “It was Jason Carver,” she mumbles, biting her thumbnail. “His wife, Chrissy, is a nurse at the hospital and saw the report. She told him, and he’s been telling, well, everyone else.”
Eddie swears that steam is billowing out of his ears. Everything is coated in a red haze, and he finds himself unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists. “Where is that sonofabitch? I’m gonna punch him in his smug little–”
“Mr. Munson?” you cut through his rant. His head snaps in your direction. You’ve fixed your makeup; if Eddie hadn’t seen you crying earlier, he would’ve been none the wiser. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”
“Y-Yeah,” he stammers, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet. “Actually, I needed to tell you someth–”
“I think you’ve said enough today,” you say, voice calm but firm. “I just wanted to give this to you before Harris comes out.” You hand him a pink piece of paper. “It’s a transfer slip. Starting next week, Harris will be in Ms. Marion’s class. I didn’t tell him anything about it, so you can say whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.” That’s not quite true; the idea of Eddie feeding Harris lies about you makes your stomach curdle, but there’s only so much you can control. 
Eddie’s, usually quick with a retort, is uncharacteristically quiet. “I, um, I thought…the secretary told me that all of the classes were full.” It’s a cop-out, but he can’t push himself to tell you what he knows now. Not when you’re already bruised. 
“They made an exception because I was the one who requested it this time,” you explain, clenching your jaw. “Looks like you got your wish. You can forget about me now.”
He takes the paper and shoves it in his back pocket. The confession is on the tip of his tongue, an apology not far behind. Say it, he berates himself. Just fucking say it. You might be able to fix this if you just—
“I’ll go get Harris,” you tell him, breaking into his thoughts. “Good-bye, Mr. Munson.”
--
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chryblossomjjk · 2 years
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practice (pt. 3) | jjk
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⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader
⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut, fluff, angst
⇢ WC: 12.8k sorry
⇢ WARNINGS: emotional at points, fighting rip, oc lowkey in her villain era, they both say mean things to eachother (nothing tew intense), jk is not a himbo >:(, characters are forced to face their insecurites </3, misunderstandings, finger sucking, oral sex (f and m recieving), 69 action if u squint, brief ass eating, a little manhandling, titty sucking (obvi), flavored lube, butt plug moment, miss hitachi is finally here !!!, unprotected sex, corruption kink, squirting, overstimulation, slight dom jk, a bit of manhandling, praise, creampie, maybe unrequited love, maybe not (lol jk u'll find out), where's waldo but instead of waldo its bam
⇢ SUMMARY: sparks fly as you try to forget about jungkook.
⇢ NOTES: it’s finally here! if you haven't read pt 2 in a while, i'd suggest rereading it before reading this part! maybe even pt 1 bc callbacks. you might miss a few things if you don't. kinda nervy to post this bc everyone was so conflicted. hopefully the ending is satisfying for all. also sorry if the smut is meh, this piece was more plot driven than other things i’ve written. thank you so much for the love and support on this series. seriously cannot thank you guys enough. very bittersweet to be saying goodbye to it but i hope you stick around. love you and as always feedback is v appreciated !! big ty to @floweryjeons for betaing !!
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⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST
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dumbo do u want lunch? i can drop it off in about 30
You were midway through a three hour lab and you really needed to focus. Unfortunately, the professor’s droning was easily overtaken by incessant vibrating. You peek at your phone with a scoff before shoving it back into your pocket. 
Jungkook doesn’t get the hint.
dumbo i’ll just get the usu
dumbo lol i forget… ur lab is in room 305 in the civic engagement building right?
Room 222 in the science building. You don’t correct him, though. 
It was difficult to ignore the sharp, self-inflicted stabs that pierced through your back whenever he texted you. But you had to rip the bandaid off before it had time to adhere to you entirely. You hadn’t talked to him in days. Not since he lied to you.
Whenever you had the urge to respond, you went through memories. Pictures of him looking unamused, pink pout scrunched up as you smushed his cheeks together. Videos of his nostrils fluttering as blaring snores filled your dorm room; your soft giggles in the background.
Little snapshots of the present that were now the past. 
You were slowly weaning yourself off of Jeon Jungkook.
Your phone goes off again during your break. 
dumbo hey i’ve been waiting for like 20 min
dumbo gonna head out since ur probably caught up. free until about 4 tho so text me if u want anything i’ll come back
dumbo or we can just get something after the showcase?
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dumbo are you running late?
dumbo you know it starts at 7p right?
dumbo ik you hate being late so i’m starting to get nervous…
dumbo just let me know that you’re safe please
Those texts were sent nearly three hours ago. You’ve tried to distract yourself with homework, Sailor Moon, and the watermelon mask you were currently washing off your face. Nothing helped. The guilt lingering in your chest was heavy and you wish it would trickle down the drain like the abandoned products. 
You sigh, shaking your hands vigorously to flick off the excess water. A damp knuckle presses your phone screen. It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday. Back at square one. 
The scent of your green tea moisturizer fills your nostrils as you glide the creamy substance over your skin. Fingertips dancing gently across the surface of your plump cheeks. The touch is soft and delicate, just like his was-
Intrusive thoughts make you want to remove your frontal lobe.
You try to remind yourself that although vibrant and dashing, Jungkook was anything but your knight in shining armor. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Just like the rest of the men who tried to conquer the tall brick walls of your heart, mind, and body. 
You look at yourself in the mirror. Despite the brightening mask, your dewy skin was dull. The inner corners of your big eyes were overtaken by winding red branches. The thick black bags under them appear even heftier than your beloved Playboy duffel. Your plump lips are coated in your Laniege lip mask. It’s candy-flavored, but it doesn’t taste as sweet anymore. You look lifeless. 
Did cutting Jungkook off really affect you that badly?
Or perhaps you always looked like this, and the loss of him made you realize how truly gloomy and lackluster things were before.
For the past two months, your reflections were filled with pearly white teeth and crinkled eyes. Being with Jungkook was careless and irresponsible in all the right ways. Whenever you were with him, the negative thoughts that often plagued your mind were forgotten, and you were just… free. 
But look where that got you.
The sound of your phone pinging brings you back to reality. 
dumbo tae said that you’re home with mina…
Taehyung. What a little snitch. You’ll make sure that Mina punishes him adequately. 
dumbo not sure what your deal is but i’m fucking heated
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“What do you know, Taehyung?” You sneer his name like a curse; the nasty ‘T’ word.
“I know everything,” he responds nonchalantly, flipping through his absolute mammoth of a textbook. He nods his head toward the guilty party beside him. “Your bestie told me.” 
“Liar!” Mina gasps, smacking his sweater-clad bicep. Her voice lowers immediately when Taehyung shushes her. You were in the library after all. She looks at you exasperatedly. “I didn’t tell him like- ‘everything’ everything.”
“I don’t need to know everything.” He closes the hardcover book gingerly, peering at you over the thick black rim of his glasses. You’re convinced they’re a sham, and he only wears them to look professional and intellectual. “My keen deductive reasoning has led me to the conclusion that this situation is—in fact—fucking ridiculous.”
You gawk at bluntness. “Aren’t you literally studying to be a therapist?” 
“Psychiatrist,” he corrects with a cheesy grin. “I’m allowed to tell you when you’re being childish.”
“Tae, be nice.” Mina warns with a scowl, holding her index finger out right in front of his nose. “I know Jungkook is your friend, but he’s grimy.”
“I swear, I’m not trying to be a dick.”  Taehyung laughs, raising his hands up in surrender. “I’m just giving perspective. I care about you, __.”
“Sure you do.” You answer curtly, rolling your eyes. 
“And-,” Taehyung claps his large palms together, fingertips pointed towards you in an accusatory fashion. “-I know Jungkook better than both of you.” He gestures between you and Mina. “He’s not a bad dude.” 
“He-,”
“He ditched her to go to a party!” Mina beats you to the punch, voice whiny and frustrated. “And lied about it! He’s trash!”
“Thank you, Mina,” you whisper-shout, placing a finger over your lips to remind her, once again, that you were still in the library. As much as you love her, you didn’t necessarily want all of campus knowing your dirty laundry. Your eyes scan the dimly lit room for eavesdroppers. Luckily, it was fairly empty at this time of day. 
“Why don’t you just talk to him?” 
“It’s not that simple, Tae,” you sigh, turning your attention back to the empty word document on your laptop screen. In the twenty minutes you’ve been sitting here, you have only managed to type the essay’s title and your name. Spelled wrong. Sneakily, you correct the typo before anyone notices. 
“Maybe…” Mina starts, lips scrunching to the side in contemplation. She looks at her boyfriend innocently before tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Playing all the right cards. “Maybe… you could talk to him for her? Or do a little snoopy snoop to see what he’s up to?”
“There’s no way in hell I’m playing double agent for you guys.”  
“Come on, Tae!” Mina pouts. “It could be fun!”
“No,” Taehyung laughs, shaking his head. “I refuse to get in the mid-,”
“Hey!” 
Taehyung’s words are cut off by an uncomfortably familiar voice. Its usual soft, playful tone was laced with sternness. The sound makes your spine straighten. 
Jungkook. 
You were so distracted that you hadn’t heard his clunky black boots stomping towards you. The firm grip of tattooed fingers on your shoulder makes you look up. Even under the rim of his bucket hat, you can see the angry stars dancing in his black eyes. They’re hot and scalding with irritation. “Can we talk?”
“About?” You peep in feigned naivety. 
“Oh, please,” he scoffs loudly, laughing in disbelief. The seat beside you is yanked out with a startling screech. Jungkook plops down on it and turns to face you, knees digging into your outer thigh. Always so incredibly close. “Don’t give me that shit-,”
“Jungkook.” Taehyung calls, trying to stifle the bubbling lava in Jungkook’s stomach before he erupts. It was rare to see his happy-go-lucky friend so agitated. “Chill.”
His eyes soften at the warning. It’s like Jungkook hadn’t even registered how angry he had actually become. The entirety of his college experience has been spent distancing anger—and any other negative emotion—so far from his being that he couldn’t even detect the cues anymore. He inhales deeply through his nose, white t-shirt pulling tight at his chest, before exhaling. 
“You good?” Taehyung asks. 
“Yeah, I’m good.” Jungkook nods, bringing a hand up to massage slow circles into his temple. Despite how upset you are with him, the self-soothing mechanism makes your heart ache. “I promise, I’m calm. I just want to talk.”
His pupils dart between the two unmoving figures across from you.
“Alone, please.”
Jungkook and Taehyung lock eyes for a moment, communicating silently through some bro-telepathy that has you and Mina exchanging confused glances. Suddenly, the curly-haired boy nods, collecting his textbook and intertwining his fingers with Mina’s. “Let’s go, babe.”
“Tae, wait!” Mina protests, trying to wriggle out of Taehyung’s grasp. She looks at you apologetically as her boyfriend urges her towards the exit, unable to break free. “Call me after, okay?” She shoots Jungkook a threatening glare before turning away. 
And just like that, you were left alone with the man you’d been avidly avoiding for the past week and a half. 
“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook questions, silver piercing glimmering in the light as he gnaws on his bottom lip. The pink skin under his bunny teeth was already turning red. “Like… did I do something wrong?”
You look everywhere but him, mindlessly scrolling up and down the empty page on your laptop screen. It was a poor attempt to act unbothered, despite the heavy thumping in your chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The showcase?”
“What about it?” 
Jungkook always took your attitude in stride, leveling your petty comments with kisses and playful eyerolls. This eye roll, however, paired with a painfully clenched jaw, is anything but playful. “Quit playing games, __. I’ve had enough,” he grits. 
He never calls you by your name. 
“Playing games,” you echo with a sarcastic laugh. In the pit of your stomach, you can feel the sadness morphing into a fit of heady anger. The words taste vile and sour on your tongue before they’re spewed at him. “That’s rich coming from you.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the puzzled expression on his face. Eyebrow piercing twitching in confusion as the cogs in his brain spin, trying to make sense of your words. “I don’t understand…” 
How does he not understand?
“Why didn’t you come to the showcase?”
You huff out a sigh, gaze fluttering to the ceiling. 
“Answer me,” he urges, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, clearly trying to shift your attention back onto him. As if that wasn’t what landed you in this position in the first place.
“Jungkook-,” 
Your voice gets caught in your throat when you feel his sharp exhales fan across your cheek. Fast and restless. It makes you miss the deep, peaceful ones he would make when buried under your heavy duvet; hair disheveled from tossing and turning and the brush of your fingers as you lulled him to sleep. His breath smells like toothpaste and vanilla gum. You glance at your taskbar. It’s 12:23 p.m. and he hasn’t eaten yet.
“I didn’t go because this is unproductive,” you sigh, closing your laptop and finally gaining the courage to face the man beside you. “You being in my life is unproductive.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Unproductive.” When your eyes meet his big dark ones, you can’t stand them. You can’t stand him for what he’s done, for how he’s turned something so special to you, so ugly. It coaxes that equally ugly, scaly, green defensiveness out of you. You want to retreat, and rebuild the walls higher, so that your emotional security would never be destroyed again. Anyone who threatened it would be burned, including Jungkook, sitting before you with doe eyes as you prepared to breathe fire in his direction. “I know it’s a difficult word, but you’re a big boy. Sound it out.” 
The look on his face makes you regret the low blow instantly. 
“Jesus,” he huffs, taking his hat off and scrubbing his hands over his face like he’s trying to wake up from a nightmare. “Why are you being-”
You cringe, expecting a nasty insult.
“-so mean?”
Oh. 
Ow. 
For some reason, that hurt more than any curse word would. 
“I’m not mean.” 
“I know you’re not,” he lifts his head, searching your face for any remnant of the girl he’s spent the last two months with. “So why are you acting like this?”
Your silence eggs him further. 
“You know what, I’m so fucking sick of you treating me like I’m stupid,” his eyes squeeze closed when he swears, nails digging into his tattooed knuckles as he crosses his big hands. The confession rips through him and hits you like a physical blow. You suddenly remember all of the times you’ve teased Jungkook about his major or insulted his intelligence. 
‘What tests? You’re a photography major.’
‘You’re an idiot, Jungkook.’
‘Your major is showing.’
You didn’t mean any of it. Not one bit. They were just shitty efforts to conceal your feelings for him. You never realized that Jungkook was taking your comments to heart. But it was too little too late. You can’t turn back time and the floodgates have already opened. 
“Just because I’m not some big-shot science major, doesn’t mean that I’m fucking brainless. And it certainly doesn’t mean that you’re better than me.” With his hat sitting on the glossy wooden table, you can fully see the angry arch in his brows. The scrunch in his nose intensifies as he seethes. “What? You think you’re too good to go to the showcase? If you didn’t want to come you should’ve grown a pair and said something.”
“It’s not that,” you protest, chin quivering with ugly dents as you try to hold back tears. “I just… figured you’d bring someone else.”
Jungkook pauses for a moment, cogs coming to a halt when he finally comprehends your vague statements. “Stop acting like you can read my mind- or that you know me better than I know myself.” He snatches his hat and drops it back on his head, fingers gripping the rim to adjust the position. “Because you clearly don’t know shit about me.”
You watch silently as he scoots his chair back, standing up with urgency. How did things come to this? Two months ago you were casual friends, now you’re fighting in the middle of the school library. You would’ve never let him into your dorm room that night if you knew it would hurt this bad. 
“And I actually thought-,” Jungkook says, turning to face you. His lips open and then close promptly before he waves a hand at you. “Fuck it, nevermind. I’m done.” 
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You look extremely suspect.
Speeding through campus with your hood up, sweater strings almost dangling to the floor with how tight you’ve pulled them. You can barely see where you’re going. The small fluffy peephole you’ve provided yourself is no good for navigating the winding halls of the dreaded liberal arts building. 
You’ve been sleeping in later and later; a recent habit. Most days you felt drained, barely able to muster the energy to crawl out of bed. That’s exactly what happened this morning, hence why you’re marching down this evil, forbidden shortcut, in hopes of making it to class on time. 
It’s a Tuesday. Jungkook doesn’t have classes on Tuesdays. But you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him and the places he frequents. You haven’t heard from him since the.. incident. Not a single text or call. It hurt like hell, but what did you expect? You weren’t exactly nice to him the last time you two spoke. And it wasn’t like he cared to begin with. He was probably already buried in someone else; moaning blissfully. Meanwhile, you can’t even leave your damn room without thinking about him. 
Shut up, evil brain. Back to the matter at hand—getting to class. 
You decide that music is the best method of distraction. An exaggerated sigh slips out as you yank your phone out of your pocket. You’re just about to crank your airpods up when a couple of distant voices catch your attention. 
“These are from this weekend's showcase, we’re taking them down next week…” A muffled response that you can’t comprehend. “Yep, all are my students.”
You stop dead in your tracks.
The professor’s prideful tone rings in your ears, drowning out whatever breakup playlist you were previously listening to. The mention of a showcase, the showcase, makes your heart drop with a painful thud. 
Fuck.
Your skull feels exponentially heavier than normal when you lift it, finally breaking eye contact with the dingy concrete floor underneath you. There are pictures hung all along the white walls of the campus center. No doubt leftover from an event you deliberately skipped. 
You roll your head back, attempting to loosen the uncomfortable tension in your muscles. Anxiously gnawing on your bottom lip, you take in your surroundings. Jittery hands pluck out your headphones and plop them back into your Luna-shaped airpod case. Underneath all the sadness and guilt, your body was teaming with curiosity. 
You never found out what Jungkook’s topic of choice was. And now that you think about it, you haven’t seen any of his photography. Ever. 
A quick look wouldn’t hurt, right?
Besides, maybe this was what you needed to move on. A final goodbye to the man who has held your mind captive for far too long. 
With a deep exhale and a heavy heart, you take the plunge and step forward. You lull along the walls, staring wide-eyed at each photo. Most of them take on a dark modern vibe, displaying people and objects in dreary settings. A sea of gray and black. Devoid of color. You glance at the labels above. The topics chosen were gloomy, too. 
Hm. Life imitates art. 
You wonder if those students have had their hearts broken as well. 
A vibrant splash of color makes you halt. Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the canvas. There’s a blood-red rose. The lens is so zoomed in that the flower eats up the entire portrait. You place a manicured digit against it, tracing your fingertip along the jagged veins in the delicate petals. The imagery is surreal, almost comparable to a heart. Not a cutesy cartoon heart—the literal human organ. You think it’s stunning, standing out amongst the rest like a beautiful sore thumb. 
The printed black font along the border makes your breath hitch.
Love - Jeon Jungkook.
The subject confuses you, but the photography makes sense. Of course, this was Jungkook’s work. It’s obnoxious, lively, and so incredibly different from the rest. Stunning and enchanting, nonetheless. The next photo in his set is of two shadows, a bit distorted as they're splayed against the concrete. A couple holding hands. You recognize the silhouettes immediately; Mina and Taehyung. You can’t fight the smile spreading across your face. 
Next in the portfolio is a room, white walls decorated with faux ivy vines. The little, golden lights laced throughout them gives the picture a warm saturated glow. At the center of the photo is a woman laying underneath a cream duvet. Her bare back is facing the camera, messy hair sprawled on the pillow. It’s a bit risqué, but you get how it connects to his chosen subject. It’s the aftermath of the physical act of love.
To any other student or teacher strolling by, the woman in the picture was a stranger. But to you, she’s the farthest thing from a stranger.
She’s you.
Jungkook must have taken it while you were sleeping.
A wave of the most perplexing, juxtaposing emotions washes over you. Your palms turn clammy as you try to process what you’re witnessing. Why would he do this? Include a picture of you in a project, literally titled ‘love’, only to fucking lie to you? To take advantage of your affection and string you along while he entertained another person?
You find the answers to your aimless questions in the next photo.
Fireworks. 
The only time you remember seeing or hearing fireworks was… 
The night of the party. 
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“Jungkook,” you sigh, pressing your damp forehead against the grainy wood of his door. You never thought you’d be in this position. Chasing after a man. It’s humiliating and out of character, but you need to make things right. “I know you’re in there…”
You’ve been standing outside of his dorm room for the past ten minutes. Knocking, pleading, begging. All to no avail. The sound of rustling blankets and footsteps on the other side makes you lift your head, eyes widening with hope. The optimism is lost once the soft noises stop completely. They only served to confirm your suspicions. Jungkook is home and he’s purposely ignoring you. 
Oh, the irony.
Earlier in the week, the roles were reversed. Jungkook was the one pining for your attention. Now, you know exactly how he must have felt that day in the library. And you don’t like it one bit. 
“Look,” you huff, shaking a few clumpy strands out of your face. “I know you probably don’t want to talk to me right now… but I’m really sorry.”
The only response you receive is the whoosh of running water. 
Your shoulders slump in defeat. Obviously, he’s not going to answer the door. Why would he? He had every right to be mad. You hadn’t hesitated to dismiss him, and his passions, when you were the one upset.
You come to the grim realization that maybe things are better this way.
Jungkook is completely, entirely, wholeheartedly different from you, and you from him. So much so that you were incompatible. You’ve barely dipped your toes into anything serious, yet the two of you were already fighting and miscommunicating. It would never work, whatever it is. It couldn’t.
Deep down in your heart, you know none of that is true.
As much as you try to rationalize the distance, you can’t convince yourself that your life is better like this—because whenever you picture a future with Jungkook or reflect on the past, you see and feel nothing but sunshine. The walls begin to crumble and you feel free. Maybe, the characteristics of Jungkook you deemed annoying and different, were what made being with him so euphoric.
But none of that matters anymore. Whatever chance you had at that, at something more with him, you've completely destroyed. With a grimace and an awful pit in your stomach, you decide the best thing you can do for him is leave him alone. You adjust the takeout bags in your hand and begin to head out. 
Just as you reach the end of the dingy hallway, you hear a click and a loud creak. You spin so fast you almost get whiplash. 
Jungkook is standing in his doorway, looking at you blankly with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He’s shirtless, full muscles rippling under his milky skin. Normally you would ogle at the sight of his toned chest and defined abs, but your focus is elsewhere. Like on the red flannel sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips, sharp v-line peeking over the hem. You recognize them from the night you helped him study for an upcoming quiz. 
‘This is a conspiracy,’ he grumbled, convinced the test was an elaborate scheme by the school committee to punish him for his frequent drunken mishaps and countless guideline violations. You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder as you helped him memorize terms and ideas. You guys didn’t leave the library until 2 a.m.
He looks warm and cozy. Dark tresses swooping in messy waves across his forehead as he peers at you with doe eyes. After not seeing him or checking in on him for a while, you let out a sigh of relief. 
“Hi.” 
“Hey,” he mumbles softly, voice coming out muffled over the bristles of his toothbrush. He pulls it out, letting out a tiny ‘oops’ as a glob of toothpaste hits the floor. He wipes it away with his foot before continuing. “What are you doing here?”
“I…” Everything you wanted to say had trickled out of your mind like the little droplets of water running down your skin. 
He meets your silence with an unamused squint and starts to close the door. 
“Jungkook, wait!” You shout, taking a few frantic steps closer. “I saw the showcase!”
He pauses. “You did?” His thick brows slant in confusion. “How?”
“It’s still up in the liberal arts building.”
He nods his head slowly as an awkward quietness falls over the corridor. You can tell he’s still upset with you and the tension makes you queasy. 
“I have pancakes,” you offer nervously, lifting up the crinkled plastic bags in your hand. It’s so damn cheesy. But you're trying your best. You prayed that he understood the reference, and remembered how he showed up to your dorm in the same exact way. The fateful night that started it all. 
“Interesting.” His nose twitches as he tongues the little hoop on his bottom lip. Obviously fighting a smile. Thank God. “What kind?”
“Chocolate chip… your favorite.” 
He hums a contemplative noise, scanning you up and down. Your hair is dripping. The pink velvet hoodie you’re wearing is clinging to your figure in ways he knows it isn’t supposed to. “Why are you wet?”
“It’s raining,” you point out. 
Jungkook glances over his shoulder, glancing into his room and out the window at the cloudy, gray sky. There’s a change in his expression when he faces you again. “You walked here in the rain?”
You nod meekly. 
The harsh glint in his eyes softens. He sighs deeply, head dropping in defeat as he holds out a colorful arm, inked digits gesturing for you to come closer. “C’mere, Bambi. I’ll get you some clothes.”
Bambi. 
You’ve never been so elated to hear that nickname. 
“Thank you,” you peep, scurrying towards his open door before he changes his mind and sends you packing. Goosebumps form on your skin when your bicep brushes against his bare chest as you hastily enter the room. The light touch leaves your cheeks hot.
“Hold on,” he says, disappearing into his tiny bathroom. You set the pancakes on top of his nightstand, awkwardly standing in the middle of his dorm. This isn’t exactly how you envisioned your first time at Jungkook’s place would go.
While idly taking in your surroundings, you spot a little whiteboard above his bed. On it, scribbled in blue marker, is the biggest boobs you’ve ever seen in your life. There’s a heart eyes emoji tacked on in the corner. A good artistic detail, you think. You should be rolling your eyes at his boyishness. That’s what you always do. But an endeared laugh comes out instead. 
Why was a poorly drawn pair of tits making you soft?
Right underneath the whiteboard is a collage of taped pictures. You bend at the waist for a better look. There’s a polaroid of him and Taehyung, arms intertwining at the elbows, both downing a dark, probably alcoholic, beverage. How cute of them. The next photo is of Jungkook on a rollercoaster, tongue out and eyes crinkled as he middle fingers the camera. So wild and free. Your heart swells in familiarity. 
But the more you stumble upon, the more unfamiliar Jungkook becomes. There’s a few blurry pictures of a big black dog he’s never spoken about before. The next one has you gushing. It’s a candid image of baby-faced Jungkook, holding up his high school diploma with a proud, big, bunny smile. There’s an older woman in the frame kissing his cheek. You tilt your head in confusion. You wonder if it’s his mother. You had just assumed he couldn’t stand his parents and didn’t keep in contact with them.
Maybe… you don’t have Jungkook figured out like you thought you did. There’s still so much you have to learn. You make a mental note of all the questions you want to ask him later. 
That is if there even is a later. 
The bathroom door opens and Jungkook walks out. “Here,” he says, handing you a pile of neatly folded clothes. There’s an oversized black hoodie on top. Your favorite sweater, the one you always steal from him. You watch sullenly as he sits down on the edge of his bed. 
“I’m sorry,” you reiterate, absolutely loathing how weak and frail you sound. Jungkook doesn’t respond. He just stares into your soul with those scrutinizing eyes. “Can you talk to me, please?”
“I wanted to talk at the library,” he groans, arms jolting forward in frustration, fingers painfully flexed and hooked like claws. His bare chest flushed an angry red. “I’ve been trying to talk to you. All fucking week!”
Startled, you jump at his voice, dropping the stack of clothes you were holding. Jungkook’s eyes widen.
“Ah, I-'' he interrupts himself with a shameful hiss. You pick up the fallen fabrics with shaky hands, placing them on his nightstand with the forgotten pancakes. Jungkook digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, too apologetic and embarrassed for losing his cool to look at you. “I’m sorry.”
To be fair, he hadn’t been that loud. It was more abrupt than anything else. But your Jungkook was as happy and carefree as the wind. This side of him was new, and you were still figuring out how to navigate the uncharted waters. “It’s okay.” You can’t blame him. Not after everything you’ve done. “You’re allowed to be mad.” 
“I’m not mad,” he sighs. The tattooed fingers splayed over his eyes slide in to clamp the bridge of his nose. The other hand pats the spot next to him on the black comforter. “Come here.” 
“But,” you look down at the damp clothes, “I’m wet.”
“It’s fine. Sit down.”
You listen, cautiously sinking down into the bed. Despite the copious amounts of nude escapades, you’ve never felt more vulnerable with him. Usually, when you’re in bed with Jungkook, he’s panting above you, sleeping below you, or lying beside you. Head snuggled into your neck like an annoying, albeit affectionate, cat. Now, you make sure to keep your distance, anxiously picking at your chipped nail polish. 
“What happened?” He questions breathlessly, relieved to finally verbalize the words that were weighing heavy on his chest. “Everything was going great and then you switched up on me. Like the showcase? Really, Bambi? I was the only person there without a guest.”
The disappointment in his voice cuts you deep, but the vision of him at the event he had been so excited for, completely alone, hurts even worse. You were his muse, and you rejected him. Looking at him was an awful decision, because you get lost in his eyes immediately. Those beautiful, captivating, endless eyes. Filled with pain and uncertainty. You realize the only way to make that awful look disappear, is to confess…
“I really like you, Jungkook… a lot. Like- more than just friends…”
Once again, you’re met with silence. Jungkook’s face is unreadable yet so familiar. You've seen that expression before. You can’t pinpoint when or where exactly, but it makes your heart pound so loudly that your ears ring.
“So,” you continue shakily, “the last time we hung out—when you canceled our plans—I got really upset.”
“I was finishing my project.” 
“But then I saw a picture of you at a party-,”
“Yeah,” he defends, looking at you exasperatedly, unable to follow your train of thought. “I wanted to take pictures of the fireworks.” 
“I know that now,” you admit, shifting uncomfortably in your seat, “but the picture was from Nayeon’s Instagram.” 
“Nayeon?” He frowns. “I haven’t talked to Nayeon in months.”
“But you guys were-” your eyes dart around in search of the right phrasing. You settle on ‘a thing’, putting little air quotes around the ambiguous title. 
“Why does that matter?” He asks incredulously. “Her and I ended things before we even started hooking up. I haven’t had sex with anybody else since we’ve been a thing.” The last part is teasing, he mimics your air quotes as his pierced pout curls into a smirk. Ah, Jungkook gets it now. Your unbecoming actions over the course of the week were a product of jealousy and possessiveness. Any lingering trace of anger is washed away with the revelation. “I told you that.”
“Yeah, but…” After mulling over your thoughts, you hesitate to speak. You hadn’t realized how ridiculous and childish you were being until now. Taehyung was right after all. “I don’t know, the way you said it seemed… fishy.”  
Jungkook deadpans you before shaking his head, chuckling under his breath. You watch it all unfold awkwardly. How embarrassing. 
“It’s not funny, Jungkook!”
“Ah!” He echos your shouts through a laugh, cupping your head with his large hands and jittering it gently. “Stop thinking! Your brain is evil!”
Hm. Valid point. 
“In my defense,” you retort, cuffing his wrists with your tiny hands. His skin is warm and soft. You’ve missed touching him so much. “You literally mentioned Nayeon while we were having sex.”
The playful stars in his eyes combust. “Huh?”
“Oral fixation.” 
His eyes widen in remembrance. “Oh shit,” he groans, slumping down, hands dropping into his lap. “Looking back, that was so fucked, but I- I just thought it was funny. I swear I didn’t mean anything, like- bad by it. I-.” Frustrated by his own stuttering and lack of judgment, Jungkook mushes his fingers into his sockets before laying down in defeat. “That was so fucking stupid of me. I’m stupid. I’m sorry, Bambi.”
Stupid. 
That word coaxes a visceral reaction out of you. 
“Don’t say that,” you whisper. His tattooed fingers part in the middle as he hesitantly peeks at you. You giggle for a moment, and so does he, but then you feel the gravity of the situation. Sniffling, you look down at the beautiful boy. How could you have ever been so nasty to him? You push his bangs back gently. They’ve gotten longer. Cupping his cheek, you slowly brush your thumb across his soft skin. You’re afraid that if you’re too rough, he’ll slip right through your fingers. “You’re not stupid, Jungkook... I’ve never met anyone who sees the world how you do. You’re so creative and clever in your own right… I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t, because I don’t think that at all.” Voice crack. “I never did.”  
“Hey,” Jungkook coos in concern. “It’s okay.” 
“No, it’s not okay,” you argue, blinking furiously to fight back the waterworks. “And I’m really sorry about the showcase. I know how important it was to you.” 
“Shh,” he shushes, “please don’t cry.” He catches your hand and brings it to his mouth, pressing the sweetest, gentlest kiss to your fingertips. “You apologized, so we’re good, yeah?” 
“Mhm,” you sniffle. It feels like a ton of bricks have been lifted off of your shoulders. “For what it’s worth, your portfolio was gorgeous.”
“Nah,” he teases, wrapping an arm around your waist and encouraging you to lay down with him. “You’re only saying that because you were in it.” You smile softly, thankful for his light-hearted banter. You stay like that for a while. Face to face. Just looking at one another. You think you could stay like this forever, basking in his beauty. His warmth. Jungkook speaks first. “Why didn’t you just talk to me about the picture?” 
“I guess, I was just scared of losing you… but then I just started ignoring you, which doesn’t make sense… so probably should’ve just talked to you about it.” The stream of consciousness makes him laugh. “I really like you, Jungkook.”
“I don’t do relationships.” 
You feel your heart shatter into a million, irreparable pieces. 
How cruel. 
“Wait, those aren’t the right words,” Jungkook shakes his head. “What I meant to say is that I’ve never actually been in a relationship.” The stammered admission has you stunned. Campus fuckboy Jungkook has never been in a relationship? “And I have no fucking clue what I’m doing but… I really like you, too. I want you, I do… I don’t know how good of a boyfriend I’ll be but,” he looks at you for the first time throughout his nervous ramble. His eyes are just as terrified as yours. “I’m willing to try if you are.”
You blink at him. Did he just say… boyfriend? 
“__,” Jungkook calls, anxiously toying with his lip ring. “Do you want this?”
You’ve never wanted anything more. 
Without warning, you smash your lips into his. This kiss is sloppy and brash, but he’s yours. Jungkook is yours. “I think you chipped my tooth,” he winces, chuckling breathlessly. “Is that a yes?”
You nod vehemently. 
“Okay,” he smiles, tilting your chin, “now give me a real kiss. None of that amateur shit you just pulled.” 
You kiss him again, head full of clouds and tummy full of butterflies. Jungkook grabs under your thighs, maneuvering you on top of him, knees on either side of his cinched waist. Your lips are more controlled this time. There’s a little tongue action. Nothing too dirty, just soft brushes and prods like you’re two virgins testing the waters. Everything is slow and unhurried. You feel like you’re floating, levitating, fucking astral projecting.
“There we go,” Jungkook grins, the rounded tip of his nose tickling yours. It’s so sappy, and you can only imagine how dumb you two look, staring at each other with sparkly eyes and goofy smiles.
Jungkook is still Jungkook, though.
A sneaky hand and the grinding of a zipper interrupts the cute moment.
“You perv!” You shriek, giggling wildly as you swat his naughty fingers away. The damage is done, and the sleeve of your open sweater slips down your bare shoulder. “Is sex all you think about?”
“Mm,” he hums in confirmation, placing a peck on the newly exposed skin. “Sex with you,” he specifies before peeling the damp material from your arms and tossing it onto the floor. You cringe at the clanging of your expensive, deadstock, Juicy Couture hoodie. “Why are you so covered up?” Jungkook sits up to suck on your erect nipple, right through your translucent, white tank top. Whimpering, you grind against him. “You gotta take this off…” he sighs dreamily, yanking the pesky shirt over your head.
Wow. He’s extra needy today. Not that you’re complaining. 
“Jungkook,” you complain, arms crossed over your chest. “Stop staring!”
“Why are you being so shy?” He does this often. Gawks at your naked body until your skin burns and your cheeks sting. It's a strange feeling. So uncomfortable yet so reassuring. You’ve never had a man look at you the way Jungkook does, like he’s trying to remember every birthmark, curve, and detail. That level of intimacy was scary. You can’t help but squirm under his intense gaze. “You’re my girl now, aren’t you, baby?
His girl. You swoon. 
“I am, it’s just kinda awkward.” 
“How so?” He patronizes, bottom lip jutting out in a deep pout. “Can’t I look?”
“You can just… don’t stare.”
“I do what I want.” The sudden switch in his voice makes your breath hitch. “Move your arms. Let me see you.”
Oh. He’s in one of those moods. 
You and Jungkook rarely dabbled in sub and dom dynamics. Maybe, he was too afraid of intimidating you. Maybe, you were too afraid to initiate. But boy was his aggressiveness a treat. The duality between the relaxed attitude he carried in his everyday life, and the occasional primal beast that came out during sex, made your mouth water. 
“Really?” He tuts his tongue when you counter him with a scowl, raising a threatening brow at you, code for ‘go ahead, test me’. You do, not moving a muscle. 
Jungkook physically pries your arms apart and twists them behind your back, holding your wrists together in one hand. The swift movement makes you gasp.
“This okay, Bambi?” 
All you can see over the bubbles of your cheeks is his tangled, black hair. His forehead rests against your collarbones, sharp exhales fanning across your chest. The hot gusts make your nipples pebble and the light stimulation sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your spine.
“Yes,” you whimper. 
Using his free hand, Jungkook grips your jaw, indulging you in a sweet kiss. “Good girl.” The whispered praise has your clit throbbing. He turns your face towards the sleek mirror mounted on the wall. “Look at you, baby.”
Insecurity looms over you like a black raincloud as you’re forced to look at the reflection. The sight of your nude body makes you feel icky. Instinctively, you try to jerk away.
 “Hey, stop-” he gruffs, tightening his grip to cement you in place. “Chill. Take a deep breath.” 
You obey, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply.
“Why are you so combative today?” The rough edge falters for a moment when Jungkook confirms that he ‘just learned that word yesterday from a synonym website’. You giggle. Why must he be so adorable? “Don’t I always take care of you?”
“You do.”
“Do you trust me?” You nod. “Use your words, baby.”
“I trust you, Jungkook.”
“Good girl,” he smiles, making you face the glass again. His touch is much more gentle this time, guiding you with a delicate finger on your chin. “Don’t look at me,” Jungkook chuckles when he catches you staring at him and then points at your bewildered expression, “eyes on you.”
Despite the initial resistance, looking own reflection isn't as difficult as it was the first time. There’s little things you pick up on, like the way your thick, fluffy hair lays. The way your chest looks so supple pressed against his. How your hips curve out at the right angle. Your skin is smooth and poreless. That Laneige toner is really out here doing the lord's work.
“Look at how beautiful you are.”
Although Jungkook’s words are sweet, you wouldn’t go that far. But you guess, one could say you’re cute—which is more credit than you’ve given yourself in a while.
“Aren’t you so beautiful, baby?”
You hum to appease him, but this experience was definitely a start. You’re gaining self-confidence, one baby step at a time. “You’re beautiful, too.”
“You think so?” He asks airily, flashing one of those teeny tiny smiles he does, where only his two front chompers poke out. You swear this man is an angel, or some mythical being that was too ethereal to exist on planet Earth. Mumbling a small ‘uh huh’, you peck at the corner of his mouth. His silver hoop feels icy against your lips, but his hands, rubbing soothing lines up your back, are so warm. “I wish you saw yourself the way I do,” he says with sparkly eyes. “How could I want anyone else, Bambi?”
Your heart swells two sizes too big and you don’t even know how to respond. 
“Alright, space girl,” Jungkook chuckles at your ditzy state, delivering a quick swat to your ass to bring you back to reality. An impatient, tattooed arm is hooked under your thigh, tossing you to the side before he gets to his feet. “Lay down. ‘S been a while since I ate that pussy.”
“Wait,” you say, unphased by his lewd comment. “Can I…” you look down at his crotch, “you know?”
“What?” He smirks at your vagueness. “Suck my dick?”
Foreplay normally consisted of Jungkook’s head between your thighs, his fingers milking your g-spot, or a shy handjob here and there. Now that he’s your boyfriend, you suppose it’s finally time to return the favor. Especially since he looks so delicious with his messy hair and his pretty tits out. 
“Please,” you choke, cheeks burning with embarrassment at how quickly the plead slipped out. 
“You don’t have to beg,” he purrs, stepping between your parted thighs sat at the edge of his bed. You gulp, nose aligned with his growing bulge. “Actually, yes, you do,” he retracts, swiping his big thumb across your bottom lip tauntingly. You’re dripping, already knowing where things are headed. “Been a bad girl lately, haven’t you?”
“Yeah,” you pout, shrinking under his beady eyes, peering right at you over his big nose. “But you said we’re passed that.”
“We are,” he agrees, “but I could use some reassurance. Wanna give me a little bit, baby?” 
“How?”
“Suck it,” he requests, tapping his thick digit against your deep frown, “show me how good you’re gonna blow me… just so I know…”
God, you can’t deny him. Not when his voice is drenched in lust and he looks that yummy.  Flicking your hair over your shoulder, you grab his wrist, taking his thumb into your mouth, all the way down to his palm. Moaning, you swirl your tongue around the pad. He plays along, plunging and pulling his finger into your wet suction. Your lips are going to look so fucking pretty around his cock, Jungkook thinks. 
“‘Kay, no more,” he says, voice strained as he yanks his hand away. The movement makes you accidentally bite your tongue. Asshole. He proceeds to tangle his spit-covered hand into your hair. Major asshole. With a thick fistful, Jungkook shoves you into his clean-shaven pelvis. “Am I hard yet? Check for me?”
He knows he’s hard. You know he’s hard. But you indulge him anyway, mushing a sloppy kiss into his v-line. The view of his eyes is disrupted by the heavy heaving of his chest, and his cute little nipples; spiked and erect. Dipping down, you place a loving peck on the tip through his pants. The red material is damp from his arousal. “Yep, hard.”
“Cute,” he laughs in reaction to how sweet and innocent you look down there. “Take it out, then.”
You tug his pants down, letting them pool at his ankles. His boner springs up with vigor, whacking you in the nose on its path up to his navel. “Oh fuck,” he gasps, smacking a hand over his mouth in guilt. You glare at him, suspicious of how genuine that ‘guilt’ really is. Something you’ve noticed about Jungkook is that his smiles reach his eyes first. You don’t need to see his lips to know he’s holding in a laugh. The little stars in his irises and the crinkles in the outer corners blow his facade. “You okay, Bambi?”
“Control your dick, Jeon,” you sneer.
“Can’t,” he pouts, wrapping his palm around his tree-trunk-sized base while kicking his pants aside, “he wants you.” You’re impressed at how quickly he steers the conversation back to sex. Also, personifying his dick? That’s new. Clicking his tongue, Jungkook measures his hard cock across the length of your face. If it wasn’t for the curve, his pretty pink tip would be touching your hairline. “How’s he gonna fit, baby? You sure you can take it?”
The questions were rhetorical, purely dirty talk, but they held a piece of the intimidating truth. “I don’t know,” you respond honestly. 
“Have you ever done this before?” Sensing your nerves, he pulls back a bit.
“Only once,” you shiver, recalling the questionable memory. “So I don’t know how good I’ll be at this…”
“Pfft,” he dismisses your concerns, “don’t worry about that.” He pets your cheek and you nuzzle into his touch, thankful for the comforting gesture. Then, Jungkook plops down, shimmying up the bed clumsily until he’s hunkered down in his pillows. Following suit, you turn to face him and begin tying your hair up. 
“Wait!” He hollers, stopping you at the elbow. His eyes widen at his own unexpected outburst. “Leave it, please. I like it down…” he coughs, “so pretty.” 
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your frizzy baby hairs shooting wildly in all different directions. Pretty? Regardless, you let go, messy strands falling in loops against your chest and back.
“I have flavored lube if that helps. In my nightstand.”
Of course, Jungkook owns flavored lubricant. It's pretty on-brand for him. But your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you open his top drawer, unveiling almost an entire Adam & Eve store. 
That’s a stretch and you’re dramatic.
Still, you stare in wonderment. There’s an unopened pack of condoms, ‘ribbed for her pleasure!’ printed on the front in purple letters. The blue and white wand next to it makes you choke. The Hitachi. It’s much bigger than you expected, but it makes sense. If it’s as powerful as Jungkook boasted, it must need a fucking car battery. You gulp. 
“Snooping through my things, Bambi?” 
“No,” you squeak, shaking your head. “You have quite the collection here, Mr. Jeon.”
“Mr. Jeon, that’s sexy,” he laughs, making you jump with an unexpected smack to your ass. “See anything you like?”
Cheeks ablaze, you stay focused, finally spotting the little aqua bottle of… blue raspberry flavored lubricant? You pick it up, causing a shiny piece of metal with a little glint of pink to roll out.
“Really, dude?” 
Jungkook’s brows furrow in confusion until he sees the silver butt plug, decorated with a pretty pink gem on the end. Absolutely perfect for you. “Oh, yeah,” he snatches the toy from your clammy hand and eyes it with pride. “Isn’t it pretty?”
“I can’t believe you actually bought one.”
“Why not? I said I was going to.”
“I know,” you huff with a nervous snicker, “but I didn’t think you were actually going to do it.”
“I mean,” he looks at you like you’re brainless, “you like anal, no?”
“No!” You shriek defensively. Anal play wasn’t even on your sexual radar...
Well, that’s not entirely truthful.
You enjoyed it the last time you had sex with Jungkook, in the shower, getting stretched out by his thick thumb in your butt. You remember how mindblowing and pleasurable it felt to be full. “Well, maybe. I don’t know.”
“That’s okay,” he smiles reassuringly. “We don’t have to use it. I just figured it’d be nice to have, in case you wanted to experiment, you know?” 
He’s so sweet and thoughtful it makes you ill. 
Now that you think about it, your sexuality is basically untapped. You’ve barely scratched the surface of self-discovery. Before Jungkook, you’ve never had a man care about your pleasure, or encourage you to take risks for your own sake. No ulterior motives. Being with Jungkook was like skydiving. Horrifying at first, life-changing once you took the plunge. With him, the parachute was there whether you decided to jump or not. You know that you’re safe, so why not take the plunge?
“Actually, Jungkook,” you stammer, “I kinda wanna try it… the butt plug.”
“You sure?” 
“I’m positive.”
The conviction in your voice is like a beautiful ballad in his ears. Brick by brick, you’re opening up. Every day spent together, the walls erode a bit more. 
“I got the smallest size I could find, see?” He holds the toy up to his thumb to demonstrate. It’s only a little longer, a little thicker. “So it’s not that far off from what you’re used to.”
“Thank you, baby,” you gush, planting a fat kiss on the dough of his cheek. The contrast between his bready, baby face and his razor-sharp jawline makes you dizzy. You need him in your mouth asap. “Can I suck your dick now?”
“Absolutely, but first can you-,” his index finger twirls in a circle. You blink at him blankly. “Ah, fuck it.” Deciding it’d be much easier to move you himself, Jungkook sits up at the waist to spin you until you're face to face with his third leg, resting patiently against his stomach. The modified 69 has you creaming. “Like that…” he mumbles dreamily, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your track pants, tugging them down your thighs to expose your perky behind and glowy cunt. 
“I don’t know where to start.”
“Innocent little thing…” he whispers, smoothing a palm over your lower back. He leans up to chomp on the fat of your ass cheek, leaving bunny-toothed dents in your skin. A predator eating its prey. “Want help?”
“Please,” you mewl, melting under his touch. 
“Spit,” he orders, cupping an inked hand under your mouth. Reluctantly, you spit into his palm. He uses your saliva to wet himself, coating his unbearably hard cock with a few languid pumps. Opening the cap, Jungkook squirts a little drop of lubricant onto his finger. “Taste.”
You softly suck on his fingertip. The liquid is sweet like a blue raspberry jolly rancher, but it’s not nearly as sweet as Jungkook’s deep guttural moan and hooded gaze. So worked up just for you. Only you. Yours.
“This, too,” he coos, bringing the butt plug up to your lips, “suck it.”
Seeing him this needy and touch-starved was doing things to you. Maybe you should ignore him more often, if it meant that he would be this feral. You comply, wrapping your lips around the icy metal.
“Being so good, baby,” he affirms, resting the drenched plug against his solid stomach before squirting a generous amount of lubricant onto his length, tugging until he’s glistening with a sticky blue sheen. Big and pretty. “Just start with the tip, alright? Go slow.” 
You nod, mesmerized by the little bead of dew resting on the slit of his pretty pink head. Well, it’s a bit blue now. Cotton candy. Yummy. 
“Stick your tongue out.” You do, hovering closer. Jungkook taps his length against your tongue with nasty, wet smacking noises. “You want me so bad, don’t you?” 
You nod impatiently, making your flat tongue brush against the crown of his leaking cock
“Fuck,” he groans, “put it in your mouth.”
There are a few reasons why you find blowjobs problematic. Unfortunately, you were cursed with an annoyingly overactive gag reflex. Very unideal for dick sucking. However, your primary concerns were taste and texture. But Jungkook’s cock feels like butter when you take it into your mouth. Smooth and silky. And the lubricant made him candy-flavored.
“You like that taste, Bambi?” Jungkook chuckles at how eager and dutiful you look, licking and sucking on his swollen tip like a lollipop. You hum in response, slowly swirling your tongue around his tip with purpose. Giving you a hand, literally and figuratively, Jungkook starts stroking the shaft, stimulating the parts of him you have yet to gobble up. “Want more?” You’re not sure what he’s referring to, but you agree anyway, completely entranced by him. With that, Jungkook squeezes under the tip, and you feel a tiny burst of precum hit your tastebuds. 
He’s so sexy you could die. 
Moaning, you clench your thighs together for some much needed friction, causing a single drop of wetness to trickle down your leg. Right before his very eyes. He’s never been so hungry, and it would be so easy to just…
“Jungkook!” You moan so loudly you’re sure everyone on campus can hear it. He had laid his tongue flat, trailing your arousal back up to your pussy and then sensually dipping between your folds in one hot lick. He even traces higher, prodding against your other hole until you’re seeing stars.
“Watch your teeth,” he winces when you get carried away, “be gentle, baby.” Peeping a shy apology, you curl your lips over your teeth and slide down past the tip until you’re halfway down his length. You focus on your breathing, nostrils expanding as you inhale deeply. “That’s it, take more.” 
So captivated by his ‘yeahs’ and ‘uh huhs’, you miss the sound of a cap clicking open. Suddenly, you feel a cold drizzle slide between your cheeks, before a pair of warm hands spread the slippery substance all over. He uses the residual to thoroughly coat the butt plug. 
“Gonna put it in now.” He spreads you open with one hand, pressing the silver against your clenched muscle. “Let me know if anything feels off.” 
The initial push is a bit much. You pull off of him with a wet pop, whimpering as he sluggishly inserts the foreign object. He stops at the sound of your whines. 
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah- fuck,” you grunt, “big, thas all. Please, keep going.”
“I mean, it’s not that big,” Jungkook chuckles, running some saliva over the toy for more moisture, “you’re taking it well, though.” Slowly but surely, he works you open. The noises you moan around his cock are obscene. Not because it hurts, but because it’s so satisfying. 
“Feels good, Koo…”
“Sheesh,” he breathes, staring in astonishment at the pink gem in your ass, “it’s so fucking pretty. So sexy.” In his fucked out, head empty state, Jungkook bucks up, shoving all eight of his curved inches down your throat. He doesn’t realize what happened until you pull off with a gag and teary eyes. 
“Bambi,” he coos wearily and fear ridden. “I didn’t mean to do that, I swear.” 
You send him the meanest, fiercest glare you can conjure up, hoping his conscience burns just as much as your throat does. 
“No, come on,” he pleads in despair, reaching for you as you crawl away, “I’m sorry. It was an accident. I wo-,” 
You shut him up by hoisting a shaky leg over his hip, straddling him. “You really can’t control yourself, can you?” You hover over him with a teasing smile. How could you possibly stay mad at him when he looked like Tuxedo Mask? The dreamy love interest of your favorite cartoon. 
He sighs in relief, panic leaving his body as fast as it came. “No, I can’t,” he smiles softly, shaking his head and snaking both arms around your waist, “not with you.”
And at that moment, you swear you’ve never been happier. 
The closeness you felt was indescribable. Not physically, although his python grip was warm and comfortable. It was all emotional. You’re spiraling out of control, heading flipping and stomach somersaulting, but it’s okay—a contained type of chaos. Jungkook feels it too. The shift in the air. The subtle, yet painfully obvious, change in your dynamic. You’re different this time around. A little more outgoing. A little more fearless, as you sit on top of him. He loves it. He thinks he might even love…
“You gonna ride me, Bambi?”
“Mhm.” You feel like a schoolgirl again when you kiss him. That nervousness, wrapped in unbearable excitement, whenever you passed your first crush in the halls. Yeah, that's how you feel right now, looking down at the most stunning person you’ve ever experienced. 
Sparks. Fireworks. Butterflies.  
You and Jungkook exchange shy smiles when your hands touch, reaching for his erection, desperate to close the gap and become one. So ready to connect your bodies, minds, and hearts in the most intimate way. Clumsily, you fail at first. You’re both so wet that his flushed tip slips, completely missing your entrance and sliding past your clit. 
“Sorry,” you chirp abashedly. 
“That’s okay,” he pipes, holding himself up for you, “try again.” Just the thick head of his cock resting against your folds is enough to know that there’s going to be an adjustment period. A stretch. There always was, Jungkook is fucking huge. But you have a feeling that this new position would hit differently, making him feel bigger, harder, longer. With a firm grip on your hip, he guides you down onto his piercing length. A symphony of moans and sighs fills the room. 
“How’s that?”
You’ve never felt so full.
The butt plug makes the squeeze even tighter, pushing his cock right into your g-spot. The burn ignited a mind-numbing fire inside of you. That, or he was just so deep that you felt him in your stomach. “‘S okay,” you whimper, gnawing on your lip and clinging onto him for stability, “really deep like this, Koo.”
“Take your time,” he gruffs, wincing under the dig of your petite fingers, making little crescent indents in his biceps. Amid sex, the tension in your body served as a reminder that you’re still learning. He was doing his best to be good, but the way your pussy just swallowed him up like that, triggered something primal. Tightest, wettest pussy he’s ever had the blessing of penetrating. Biting his tongue until his mouth tastes metallic, Jungkook battles the urge to thrust up into you until you’re dumb and drooling. He’s trying so hard to be good. The internal struggle is heard in his voice when he speaks, strained and gravely. “Start slow.” 
Eventually, the tiny licks of pain transform into a milky, insatiable hunger. When you look down at him, all you see is the base of his thick neck, head thrown back as he succumbs to the gratification of your walls. ‘Wow, what a man,’ you think to yourself. Your man. Encouraged by your eagerness to please, you begin sloppily jerking your hips at a fast pace. No flow or rhythm. 
“Easy, easy,” Jungkook shushes with a grin, stopping you at the waist. “Why are you in such a hurry, hm? We have all night.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” he laughs, grabbing the shaky hands that are resting awkwardly on your thighs. “Let’s get your form right first. Lean on me.” With the command, your palms are placed flat on his broad, solid pecs. Already, the angle and leverage work with his curve deliciously. “And it’ll probably feel better for you, if you moved like this instead,” Jungkook grips your ass, rocking you into a grinding motion. Instead of up and down, your cunt drags back and forth on his throbbing shaft. 
He’s right. It feels so much better like this. The dreamy sensation has you moaning and moving like a pornstar. 
To be honest, this wasn’t even the type of video Jungkook clicked on when looking through his PornHub feed in the mornings. Absently scrolling past orgies and blowjobs like the daily newspaper. He preferred things fast. Pummeling every inch into you before pulling out swiftly, leaving only the very tip inside to keep you needy and begging. But fuck, the slow, sensual rolls of your hips were turning his brain to mush. And the way you’re dripping down his balls might make him demote missionary to his second favorite position. He’s hypnotized, staring up at your perky tits, rippling and bouncing freely above him. 
“Yeah, baby…” you cheer, carding your fingers through his thick, healthy hair as he sits up at the waist, latching onto your nipple. The gentle runs turn into harsh tugs when he takes the sensitive teat between his teeth. The overstimulation makes you hiss. 
“Taste so good,” he huffs, “I can’t keep my mouth off of you.” Slicking his wispy bangs away, Jungkook leans back, stealing a naughty peek at you fucking yourself on him. Using him just how he likes. He spreads his legs apart, praying it’ll help you sink down even further, if possible. “Yeah, take it all…”
“Love taking it all…” 
That hot, gooey ballooning is already forming in his balls. The pooling in his shaft is a warning; he’s going to bust soon. Jungkook maintains a strict ladies first policy, so he needs to think of something. Fast. A lightbulb switches on in his head when your neglected clit glides across his smooth pelvis. 
“Hold on.” With a hand on your lower back, Jungkook squeezes you against him, preventing you from toppling over as he leans to the side and fiddles around in his special drawer. You gulp when he takes out the infamous vibrator. 
“You look terrified,” he jokes, pointing out your fearful gaze and plump lips, currently forming a cute little ‘o’ as you observe the wand. 
“Hm, I wonder why?” You scoff at him in fiend ignorance. “Oh, it’s superrr strong, most girls don’t even last five minutes,” you mimic in your best Jeon Jungkook impression. Voice dropping an octave to match his deep, even tone. You think it’s pretty accurate, but his melodic giggles say otherwise.
“I mean, it is,”  he confirms, powering on the vibrator, “but there’s different settings, like, here’s the lowest.” The white crown is placed on your inner thigh, letting you get accustomed to the movement before he uses it to destroy you, and your most private areas. The low rumble travels up the muscle in your leg until it reaches your clit with a faint hum. “See? Not bad, right?”
Wrong. 
The lack of foreplay on your end, had you teetering on the edge. So when Jungkook presses the strong, creamy buzz to your swollen bud, you’re a goner. 
“Fuck!” You wail. “This is the lowest speed?”
“Tell me how it feels.”
“I- oh!” Evilly, Jungkook moves the toy down, nudging the rounded corner underneath your hood, directly stimulating your little bundle of nerves. “I… don’t know… can’t… think right now…”
“Have nothing to say now, huh smart girl?”
Oh, so this was your punishment. 
If you could even call it that. You’ve never felt so fucking good. 
The rapture coursing through your vein forces you to stop, clawing at Jungkook’s shoulders. He picks up where you left off, rutting into you with vigor, hitting all of your sweet spots perfectly. That, combined with the smooth plug in your ass and the vibrator on your clit, has you overwhelmed and out of control. 
“Fuck! Jungkook, I can’t- too much.”
You’re cumming before he even has the chance to object. Thighs quivering. Arms shaking. Eyes rolling back into oblivion. The darkness is disrupted by lightning bolts of white, hot pleasure. Your entire body tingles like you’ve just stuck your acrylic into an outlet. Jungkook guides you to the light as you brace the crashing tsunami of your orgasm. 
A literal tsunami.
“You squirted.”
“I did?”
“A little.” Unfortunately, he didn’t get the chance to witness it. Just relished in the warm splashes on his pelvis, his upper thighs, and his cock. You nuzzle into his shoulder, groaning disgruntledly in shame. Jungkook humors you by resting his cheek on top of your head, swaying subtly as he holds you. “Guess you’re not my Bambi anymore. Deer can’t swim.”
“They can swim,” you murmur. “You don’t shit about deer, Jungkook.”
“You’re more like a fish or something,” he coos happily, ignoring your correction. “...Ponyo.”
“You like Studio Ghibli movies?” You ask, picking up your heavy head and looking at him with big, animated eyes. “Since when?”
“Since before my balls dropped,” he responds curtly.
“I didn’t know that…” 
“I think there’s a lot about me you don’t know yet, baby.” 
There’s no malice in his words. They’re not a sneaky jab, or an attempt to make you feel guilty. They’re just the truth.
“Can I ask you something, Kook?”
“Of course, you can,” he hums, friskily nipping at the apple of your cheek. 
‘Do you like anime in general? Or just Studio Ghibli?’
‘If so, what’s your favorite? Oh my God, this is so exciting!’
‘Is that your dog in those pictures?’
“You’re crazy, and yes, that’s my dog,” he chuckles at your endless string of curiosity. “But how about I nut first?” As if on cue, his member twitches inside of you, reminding you that he’s still hard and waiting patiently for his release. “And then you can interview me. Sounds good?”
“Yes,” you say, cheeks scalding. “Sorry.”
“Stop saying sorry,” Jungkook repeats, pecking you lovingly. "I'm gonna lay you down now..." Strategically, he maneuvers you onto your side, plopping down behind you. You curl into his frame, back arching with the rise and fall of his panting chest, his beautifully sketched arm wrapped around your waist. The other rests on the bed, sticking straight out for you to use as a pillow. Your top leg is thrown over his hip, spreading you enough to run his length over your puffy cunt. Grabbing the Hitachi, he brings it back to your engorged clit. The touch makes you yelp. 
“Mm, I love how sensitive you get,” he whispers, licking a hot, needy stripe against your cheek. You peep out a confused noise, cowering under his tongue. Yuck. He’s so gross… but so sexy. “It’s not even turned on yet, baby. What would happen if I put it all the way up?”
“I think I’d fall in love with you…”
His heavy breaths stop as locks eyes with you. You can't distinguish the iris from the pupil. It all blends together like the night sky, filled with little stars of raw emotion. He’s pondering something, dewy lips parting and closing as the thought fades. 
Nothing is said, but you don't mind. Because when he enters you, rocking into you with languid, passionate thrusts, you feel it. The unspoken words surround you like the weather. They’re warm like a summer breeze.
“Mine, isn’t it?” He speaks against your lips, Hitachi set to the max, going full throttle on your nub. “Say it.”
“This pussy is yours,” you cry, crystal streams clouding your vision and streaming down towards his arm.
“Not that,” he chokes through gritted teeth, trying to postpone his orgasm. Waiting for you to say the magic words and open Pandora’s box. “You, baby. Tell me that you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
“Yeah,” he nods, lips curling in as he bathes in your dripping cunt. His strokes become short and uneven as he reaches the point of no return. “I’m yours, too.”
The declaration of reciprocal affection and want fills your chest before shooting to your core. You cum together, sighing into each other's mouths as pure, intense bliss takes over every square inch of your body. Every cell tingles. You try to kiss, but the seal of your lips is broken by your needy cries. During the mutual orgasm, Jungkook trembles. Chest, legs, and arms all quivering in unison as he milks both of you dry. Painting your walls with warm, white spurts until he has nothing left to give. The Hitachi isn’t turned off until you beg. 
Euphoria. 
When you’re done, neither of you can bring yourself to disconnect. Sex left your sweaty bodies idle and fucked out, but the intimacy of it all kept you rooted in place. Airy kisses are planted on your shoulder. Light scratches outline his tattoos. His seed is hot inside you in the most disgustingly comfortable way. You don’t move for a while, laying in each other's aura until the rain clouds fade and the milky way can be seen by the naked eye. Twinkling lights of stars and headlights flicker against his skin as you count his breaths. They grow more steady as the minutes pass. 
“I have a plan.”
Intrigued, you crane your neck, quirking a brow at the man behind you. “A plan?
Without warning, Jungkook expertly gets to his knees. Your ankles are hauled up by your head, manicured toes tickling his cotton pillowcase. Folded in half at the waist.
“Jungkook!”
“Bambi,” he huffs above you, softening cock still tucked inside of you. “Hold your legs for me.”
Oh. You know what he wants.
“Baby,” you giggle flirtatiously, hands curling under your thighs to keep them in place, “what are you doing?” He must want another round. Excitement bubbles in your squished chest and cramped stomach at the thought of having him twice in one night. 
“If you stay like this, I should be able to run to the bathroom without getting cum on my bed.”
“Are you kidding me?” You spew in disbelief and disappointment.
“Baby, please,” he groans with pleading eyes. “It’ll take two seconds, I promise.” 
“Fine,” you oblige with an overexaggerated pout, “but hurry. This hurts!”
With your permission, he scurries off into the bathroom. A light turns on and the faucet runs. He must be getting something to clean up with. Despite your best efforts, and the ache in your bent neck, his baby juice leaks out of you, cascading down your butt with impeccable speed.
“Jungkook, It’s dripping!” 
The door slams against the wall with a loud thud as he bursts through, wet cloth in hand. A second too late. “No!” He sighs in annoyance, dropping to his knees on the mattress, angrily watching a fat white droplet splash onto his black comforter. “Really?”
“What was I supposed to do?” You shout back playfully. The whole situation was dumb and immature, but you can’t stop laughing. You cackle like a madwoman when he runs the damp towel through your folds. “‘M ticklish,” you respond dazily when he raises a brow at you. The giggles turn into a sharp hiss when he slowly removes the plug from your swollen hole.
“Does it hurt?” Jungkook coos, spreading your cheeks to get a better view of the slightly red, inflamed area. 
“A little, but I’m okay. I promise.” 
“Good,” he hums, smacking your ass, hinting that he wants you off the bed. “Go pee while I change the sheets.”
There’s a change in your appearance when you look in his bathroom mirror. The girl reflected, wearing her boyfriend’s black, pine-scented, oversized hoodie, seems… happy. She is happy. The resting bitch face that Mina often teased you for is completely gone. All you see is glowy skin, bright eyes, and puffy cheeks. A tiny hand comes up to massage them. Ow. They hurt from smiling so much. From laughing like a maniac. You’ve never seen yourself so lively. You’ve never felt so alive. 
With a content sigh, you skip back into the bedroom. 
Jungkook is already settled, snuggled under the clean bedding like a big baby. The sound of the door opening makes him jump, waking up from the two minute nap he accidentally fell into. Turning to you, he smiles lazily.
You’ll never get used to that face of his. That beautiful face.
“I’m knocked, Bambi,” he yawns, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”
Heart heavy with warmth, you climb between the sheets. You lay on your back, preparing for him to sink his head into your full breasts like feathered pillows. His favorite cuddle position. 
“We never ate the pancakes,” you frown, noticing the plastic bags on his nightstand when you reach over, shutting his lamp off.
“‘S okay. We’ll eat ‘em in the morning.”
“Ew, Jungkook,” you scoff revoltingly. “They’ll be rotten by then.”
“You’re rotten but I still eat you.”
Hm. Touche. 
“You know,” he lulls, lips smacking together. It’s a habit that only comes about when sleep clouds his mind. “I’ve had a crush on you since the day we met.”
“Liar,” you whisper with a smile, twirling the loose strands at the nape of his neck. Just the way he likes. “You called me a bitch, the day we met.”
“You’re so dramatic. I did not call you a bitch.” The way his tired, hooded eyes blare open at your false statement makes you laugh. “I said you were bitchy. There’s a difference.”
You recount the memory.
“You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, "Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?”
“But underneath that attitude… I don’t know- There was just… something about you. Something special. And I knew that I could bring that side out of you, eventually."
“Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you.” 
God, why are you so emotional today? 
Tears pile into your waterline. They’re not from sadness or anger. 
Laying in bed with Jungkook, who’s sighing peacefully as he drifts off to sleep, you can’t believe that this is your life. 
After a few minutes of silence, you realize that there’s no way you’re following him into dreamland. You’re way too wired and ecstatic. Who could blame you?
“Jungkook,” you whisper.
No answer.
“Jungkook.”
A grunt of acknowledgment. 
“Are you awake?”
“No…”
“But you just responded, though...”
Silence.
“Can we watch Sailor Moon?”
Crickets.
"Jungkook?"
“Baby!” He whines, high-pitched and huffy as he turns his head in frustration. “‘M sleepin’!’”
“Jeez,” you roll your eyes, still sluggishly playing with his dark ropes. “Someone’s grumpy…” 
There’s another beat of silence before he speaks.
“Fine,” he groans dramatically, twisting back to his original position with a smushed frown against your boob. “I’ll watch one episode. One.” 
You squeak excitedly, pecking the top of his head in appreciation, pulling out your phone and turning on your favorite series with glee. He puts up a good fight; loopily murmuring ‘wow’ and ‘no way’ whenever you share a little fun fact about the character lore. Halfway through, the sound of Usagi and Rei arguing is overtaken by Jungkook’s soft snores. 
Soft for now. You know once he hits the REM phase, he’ll turn into a lawnmower. 
With a defeated sigh, you close the streaming app and put your phone away, cuddling closer to your boyfriend. 
Your boyfriend. 
You're dying to finish the season. At this rate, it's going to take you guys forever to watch Sailor Moon in its entirety. But that’s okay, you suppose, because forever with Jungkook doesn’t sound that bad at all. 
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it's requited love yall :')
© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]
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ASKBOX IS OPEN REQUESTS ARE OPEN HERE ARE THE RULES
ground rules:
1) Funny- the request needs to be humorous, memes usually the most popular but dnd in jokes and other shitpostery is welcome. i abide by the MBMBAM NO BUMMERS rule - there are plenty of sad/deep/beautiful calligraphers out there who’d be happy to work with yall, but this isn’t that sort of channel
2) Length - aim for no more than 75 characters a request, my cue cards are only so big so I can only fit so much on each one and still not look like garbage. There is a little leeway but if you send me smth with like 120 characters it aint getting written
3) Amount of Requests - I am trying to be fair but i am one person running almost the ENTIRE thing, logistics, tech, etc, I have twitch mods and a roommate for retrieving things and that's it. In order to be fair, please restrict yourselves to 3 requests per person to let everyone have a shot, if you send in more i will ctrl-f your username and pick my favourites
4) Content - I will not do anything I consider under the umbrella of general assholery - this includes racial slurs, edgelord bullshit, exclusionist jackassery etc. Please be kind to each other. Please let me know if I’ve taken a request that is some incredibly obscure piece of assholery, someone once tried to slip a really obscure antisemetic piece of slang by me once
5) Repeats - I keyword tag EVERY SINGLE piece i’ve ever done on this blog, if you think I might have written smth already but aren’t sure, the /search/[keyword] is your friend, check if i’ve done your request before
the askbox is theshitpostcalligrapher.tumblr.com/ask , not a dm or submission to the blog. I’ll close submissions too so people don’t get the boxes confused. DM me for any actual clarifications, kind words, etc so they don’t get swallowed up by the behemoth of my askbox for months, and if you want to give me live encouragement the twitch link is right there, and is the ideal way to inquire more about any of the day's rules.
If you want to jump the ENTIRE queue and get your card done immediately, there are ways to donate on the twitch stream to get your request done with an ink of your choice. You can still submit 3 free requests in addition to what you pay for.
I’ll be streaming the entire time the askbox is open on twitch @ theshitpostcalligrapher, trying to get as many of these done today as possible live. Once 10PM EST hits, the askbox will close but if you get your request into the askbox by then, it will be done eventually as I always have 4 cards up per day.
Here’s the link to my twitch, we’ll start a little after 3 o’clock.
twitch_live
Here is a direct donation link to my streamlabs, it works like a ko-fi but I’ve got it set to give me alerts on my twitch so I can see and thank you straightaway for supporting my takeout order
I've planned on a few donation goals this time! They help pay for all the hours I put in and the material costs. Every time we hit a goal, I'll refresh it to 0 and math out whatever overlap to add to the new goal
$20 > Time For Tea! I make a sparkly, food safe glittery tea that looks like ink to enjoy with yall on stream
$30 > Jackbox Break! My Discord VC and potentially chat plays a few games
$40 > Takeout O'clock: It is time to order a food, Mia! Polls will probably be involved for food options
$200 (I am fairly sure we won't get this one) > I bought all the requisite items to bleach my hair to prep for a dye. Let's do this shit LIVE ON AIR BAYBEE
Also of Note: I will be moving house sometime in the next week and a half, which means I will be RECYCLING ALL OF THE CARDS I'VE WRITTEN IN THE PAST TWO AND A HALF YEARS (save for the ones folks pay for on stream, those are earmarked to be mailed out anyways) so if you've gotten something written by me from september 2021 to january 2024 or so, please remember that there is an an etsy shop where you can snag any card from the blog for a few dollars. dm the shop if you'd like to buy a bundle of randoms, I WILL give you a sale about it
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lizzieislife94x · 5 months
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Thats Not Milk Honey (w.m)
WandaxGip Reader
This just came to me also by the time I post this it will be my birthday don't ask how old I am because I'm old asf anyway as always requests are open but I do have a few part 2s and requests to do but will do them after my birthday because I wanted to take a little break 😇 (its not my bday this was last year haha)
Y/ns POV:
"Mhhh good morning baby" I say with a raspy voice as my eyes flutter open to the sight of my wife kissing my jaw "morning baby listen" she whispers looking up at me climbing ontop of my stomach "we had a full night sleep without Emma waking up" I smile and rub her arms "and you spoke to soon someone's hungry, you prepare her breakfast ill grab her" wanda giggles as she takes her tshirt off and I get up walking over to the baby "hey princess did you get a full night sleep look at those big smiles, come see mama and we'll get you some milk" I say smiling as I pick our daughter up holding her close leaving gentle kisses over her head as I turn to see wanda with a huge a smile on her face "this right here is perfect you two are my world" I blush and hand the baby over as my eyes linger on her boobs "booooobieeeessss" I say with a huge smile causing wanda to laugh "youre such a child, can you go make me coffee please honey" I lean over and kiss her gently "of course my love" I walk out of the bedroom and head to the kitchen to make us both coffee.
4 hours later.
"Baby are you ready" I yell to wanda as I sit impatient god I'm so hungry "yeah just finishing pumping some milk for when we're out and a bottle for when we get back ill be 2 minutes" after what seems like forever she walks out in a gorgeous skin tight black dress holding Emma she smiles at the Babysitter "she's due a bottle in 3 hours I've pumped plenty it's in the fridge we should be back just after her next feed and thank you again for doing tonight on such short notice" she smiles as I wrap my arms around wanda "please help yourself to anything food, tv make yourself at home" I say with a smile as we bid our goodbyes it takes us 20 minutes to arrive at the restaurant I quickly jump out and open wandas door "there you go baby" she smiles and takes my arm leaving a delicate kiss on my cheek sending fireworks throughout my body we head inside and get seated I can't help but stare and admire her with a cheesy grin on my face she takes hold of both my hands looking back at me smiling "I love you so much how did I get this lucky, I'm so glad you took a chance on me babygirl" I say as I raise her hands to my lips leaving delicate kisses making her giggle "from the moment I saw you kicking ass defending someone who couldn't defend themselves I knew you where special you stole my heart that day honey and I'm glad because now I have the sexiest wife and the most adorable baby and I wouldn't have it any other way" I feel my heart glowing at her words blushing like a fool as our food is placed infront of us we spend the evening laughing and talking about our past memories and future memories to come while enjoying eachothers company I look at the time and notice its 10pm "come on honey we better get home and let the poor Babysitter go home" I say with a laugh as I raise my hand for the check after I pay we get up and head out to the car we enjoyed a peaceful car ride home with my hand resting on wandas thigh gently squeezing every now and again once we pull up to our house I get out and open her door as she smiles wrapping her arms around me kissing me passionately after a few seconds I pull away smiling "behave baby you know I'll bend you over this car if you don't and if we didn't need to let the Babysitter go home I would" she bites her lip smirking as we head inside giggling "you guys seem to have had a goodnight" the Babysitter says laughing and we agree "thank you so much for tonight" I pull out 200$ and hand her it as she looks at it in disbelief "it's only 50 for a night this is to much" I smile and place my hand on her shoulder "you helped us have a few hours alone take it go do something fun with friends thank you so much for tonight " we bid our goodbyes as wanda heads upstairs to get changed and I walk into the kitchen and grab a bottle of milk filling the cup before turning to get some cookies as wanda walks in smiling "thank you for tonight my love I had so much fun" I smile and wrap my arms around her waist kissing her forehead "you needed a few hours away from our darling daughter" I say laughing I pull away and take a big gulp of milk and freeze as wanda looks at me concerned "baby what's wrong" I smack my lips a few times "there's something wrong with the milk" she takes the cup and smells it before bursting out laughing "what oh god did I drink out of date milk it didn't taste bad just different do I need to go to the hospital" I say panicking as she continues to laugh walking over to me placing her hand on my cheek "that's not milk honey its my breast milk you just drank your daughters spare food" I look at her relief washing over my face "that's breastmilk It tastes good" she wraps her arms around my neck giggling "god youre something else y/n"
I smirk as an idea pops into my head "you know the milk was tasty and you know how much I love your boobs" she looks at me with a raised brow "use your words baby" she says a smirk appearing on her lips "well I think I should take you upstairs take these cute little pj's off so I can suck on these" I say gently cupping her boobs my thumbs teasing her sensitive nipples as a moan slips past her lips "then ill fuck you so good the only words falling from your lips will be my name and moans" I feel her grip on my waist tighten and smirk "fuck let's go before Emma wakes up" she pulls me up to the bedroom as she starts to undress me making me laugh a little "someone's needy" she gives me a look telling me to shut up and I do before I know it im naked with my dick standing to attention and wandas hand wrapped around my member pumping her hand up and down as she attacks my neck sucking and biting I can't help but moan as I push her shorts down and pull away as she steps out of them "top off..now I want to see them tits" I say as lust takes over we've not been able to fuck since the baby was born we've only managed to get eachother off quickly but tonight I'm gonna make her cream all over my dick "mmh fuck yes look at those perfect tits"
I moan as we fall onto the bed giggling I instantly latch my lips around her right nipple as she let's out a moan "fuck y/n" I grin and start to suck her nipple as the milk flows into my mouth as I hum at the taste making wanda moan and grip my hair pushing me closer to her I move my hand between her thighs and quickly find her soaking entrance as I sink 2 fingers inside her "yes fuck me yess" she cries out as I continue to suck her milk and thrust my fingers faster curling them at the spot I know sends her wild I quickly let go of her right nipple and switch to the left sucking as her milk fills my mouth I feel her walls tighten around my fingers my dick throbbing harder than ever as I suck my wife's milk "baby I uh fuckk don't...stop I'm I'm fuckkkk I'm cumming" she screams as her juices flow down my fingers and hand making me smirk I slow my thrusts allowing her to ride out her orgasm as her chest rises and falls rapidly I pull away from her nipple and smash my lips to hers as she moans into my mouth at her taste the kiss is full of passion and lust both of us needing the same thing "im gonna make you cum so many times baby we've got alot of time to make up for" I mumble against her lips as she looks at me "yes we do now hurry baby I need to feel you deep inside me ruin my pussy fuck i need to feel your cum filling me" she says still breathing rapidly I smirk and get up on my knees and flip her pulling her ass up in the air biting my lip at the sight I quickly grab my dick and rub it through her dripping folds lubing myself up as my left hand rubs her ass her moans are fucking music to my ears I can't help but groan at the feeling I slowly start to sink inside her savouring the feeling of her tight warm cunt both of us moaning "fuck baby so fucking tight" I moan as I grip her waist and I sink all 8 inches inside her and give her a second to adjust "fu..so big baby" she pants as I start to thrust at a steady pace her walls gripping my member tightly the sounds of her wet pussy and our skin slapping against eachother is all that's heard as i start to thrust faster and harder the only sounds are  our moans I continue to fuck wanda as she cums all over my cock I smirk and look down as I thrust harder deeper my pace becoming brutal as i look at her cum running down her thighs the sight making me moan "mmmh fuck baby youre doing so well you take me so well I've missed your tight little cunt wrapped around me" I gron as her words make no sense all she can muster is whimpers and moans I feel my own high coming in quick as I increase my thurst speed chasing my own high after a few more thrusts I slam deep inside her cunt and fill her with my seed both of us moaning loudly as another orgasm washes over her her whole body shaking beneath me.
3 hours later 
"Yes yes yes oh my fucking god fuckk" she screams as she bounces up and down on my dick my hands roaming her body squeezing her sensitive nipples milk leaking out turning me on more I start to meet her thrusts both of us getting sloppy "come..on baby youre doing so well give me one more ride my dick just like that honey" I encourage her as I suck her nipple her eyes roll along with mine as her milk flows down my throat, as she continues to chase her high I continue sucking her nipples draining as much milk as I can while fucking her both of our thrusts working in perfect sync "fuck I'm gonna cum" I moan against her nipple, as she bounces faster desperately wanting me to fill her, I unload my cum deep inside her for 8th time tonight as she cums all over my cock for the 12th both of us fall back panting and sweaty as she lays ontop of me with me still inside her both our breathing are erratic as I rub her back after a few minutes I feel her breathing calm on my chest "baby let's get you cleaned up" when I get no reply I smile and kiss her cheek "sleep tight beautiful I love you" I wrap my arms around her gently fixing us into a comfortable position my dick still very much buried in her pussy, i cuddle close as I close my eyes and fall asleep in my wife's arms.
AN: so again this was supposed to be wrote and posted yesterday but I was busy all day haha I hope yall enjoy it all feedback is welcome as always hope your all having a wonderful day 😊 I need to work out what one shots are having a part 2 ect and ill get them done then ill do the couple of requests I have 😘 word count 2.2k
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bettyfrommars · 1 year
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I'm on Fire//older!biker!Eddie Munson x artist!fem!Reader//90's au//Part 8
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🚨18+Only, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, angst, biker!Eddie, biker!Steve, sexual innuendos, alcohol consumption, mention of financial troubles, falling in love, heartache, talk of commitment, talk of monogamy, casual sex, implied cheating, sex with someone other than reader, betrayal, having a stalker, biker gang, swearing, exotic dancers, reader wears dress and heels, reader wears red lipstick. Word count: 9.5k
Summary: In part 8, you start your new job as a cocktail server at the Velvet Hammer, and a few new characters are introduced. You and Eddie are officially falling for each other, while Eddie recalls a relationship from his past that left him shattered. A jealous ex-lover continues to try and rip the two of you apart, and this time, she might have succeeded. 90's playlist here
Series Masterlist
A/N: I'm not sure if it's that time of the month or what, but I cried twice while writing this🙃and not during the parts you might think. Rest assured that biker!Eddie and Reader are endgame. I love being in this world with y'all, and I always look forward to hearing from you! xoxox
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I'm on Fire//Part 8: From Here to Eternity
Day 3 of not hearing from Eddie, and you found yourself staring off into space, trying to calculate what could have possibly gone wrong. The idea that this was the kind of man that he was, that he would just ghost you without a word made your stomach sick. You thought you had developed better radar than that. You’d been listening to way too much Fiona Apple over the past 12 hours, but nevertheless---it was Thursday and you had to get ready for your first shift at your new job.
Shana, the hiring manager at the Velvet Hammer, let you know the dress code and a few ideas for what you should wear. It had to be skimpy and sexy and classy all at once, and at first you worried you might need to go shopping, but then Katie pulled this black latex halter top dress with a zipper down the front out of nowhere, and it didn’t fit her, so she assumed it belonged to her ex. Sure, it was not your signature style, but it gave you a certain Femme Fatale air of confidence that you hadn’t possessed before you put it on. Some of the servers got all decked out in creative makeup and wigs, but you decided to tackle your first day with caution.
You went over and checked the message machine in the living room again on your way out, just in case a call came through in the past 20 minutes that you miraculously did not hear, but the digital red number blinked a big, fat “0”.
Training at the Velvet Hammer was only about an hour long, and you met Jackie, the cocktail server you would be shadowing that night. She raised her eyebrow and gave you a bored look as she chewed her gum, hooking one of her long fingernails into the zipper of your latex dress to pull it down, exposing more of your skin. “That’s better,” she gave an extended wink. “We need those good tips tonight.”
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Meanwhile, Eddie spent the morning introducing the new office assistant around that he hired from a temp service, but then he had to leave to run a tow while Wayne showed her the ropes. The old man hated the suggestion that he needed help, but Eddie basically told him he had no choice. From Here to Eternity by Iron Maiden came on while he was en route back to the garage and his chest clenched, because for some reason, it made him think about you.
He never stopped thinking about you, really. But, if he kept busy with work, and drowned out the voices in his head with loud music and distractions, he could push aside the knowledge that he was already falling for you, and simultaneously come to terms with the fact that he was no good for you, and that you would be better off without him. The nights were the worst. He was back to getting only 3 or 4 hours of sleep, feeling like he had been spoiled on those occasions over the phone when he was lulled to dreamland by the sound of your sweet voice.
He knew in his gut that he was doing the wrong thing by not saying anything to you, but his denial was overshadowing his logic.
The suspension on the tow truck, or lack thereof, made him bounce as he came up onto the sidewalk lip to the driveway of the garage, and it somehow jarred his memory to the fact that your first day at the Velvet Hammer was tonight. He almost barreled right into the back of a car pulling out from one of the parking spots and had to slam on his breaks; he was becoming a hazard to everyone’s health, especially his own.
He needed to get his head on straight.
Fuck it, he needed to see you again.
------------
You were bummed to find out that Steve was tattooing at the shop, and not working the door that night, but the bouncer replacing him was also a biker who went by the nickname Thumper. He was stocky with big arms, a bald head, and a beard down to his chest. He called you darlin’ when he introduced himself to you.
“I’ll keep my eye on you girls,” Thumper reminded you and Jackie. “But be sure to come and get me if anyone give you any trouble.”
Tall, curvaceous Jackie rested her elbow on Thumper’s shoulder and leaned against him. “Thumper here tossed a guy out in the street for staring at me for too long once. He doesn’t play.”
“Ogling,” Thumper corrected. “The dude was ogling you, and if they’re gonna sit and get a free show to jerk off to later, they better be leaving decent tips for you ladies.”
Outside, there came the unmistakable growl of a gang of choppers coming up the street, and you excused yourself from the conversation to peek around the doorway. A group of Coffin Kings slowed down in front of the Velvet Hammer to acknowledge Thumper with a lift of their chins before speeding along to their destination, but none of them were Eddie.
The DJ played Thunder Kiss ‘65 by White Zombie an hour or so later as a purple and orange sunset blossomed over the mountains and the place started to fill up. A beautiful girl with a baby pink bob of hair got up on one of the stages with a pole and stated to work her magic while you carried a tray of drinks over to a table of four. The Velvet Hammer dancers never went completely topless, but they did strip down to tiny bikini sets that were plenty revealing, and their dance moves were seductively choreographed. The one with the pink bob had on finger-less, fishnet gloves, and a big tattoo on her thigh that you couldn’t quite make out.
You walked away as soon as you set the drinks down for the table, and Jackie snatched your arm.
“Where do you think you’re going?” She asked with a forced smile, talking without moving her lips.
You were genuinely confused, wondering if you somehow messed up on the drink order. “Um, nowhere, just--” you figured you���d get busy filling napkins and straws or something while you waited for more customers to come in.
Jackie pulled you to the side, bending close to your ear so that she wouldn’t have to shout over the music. “Part of the job is to socialize with the customers, honey, make them feel relaxed. Flirt with them, laugh at their jokes even when they are lame as hell,” she checked over her shoulder and smiled at the men at the table in question. “The more they think you’re actually interested, the bigger the tip, usually.”
You were nodding, taking the information in, wanting to do your job correctly. You’d been working in customer service in one way or another since you were a teenager, but, damn, you were horrible at faking interested or forcing conversation with guys you didn’t want to talk to. You hoped it was a skill that you could pick up from Jackie, because she was a magician at it.
You followed her back to the table so that she could introduce you to the group. It was four men, all in business suits, loosening their ties as they greeted you. They were a little older, ages ranging from 35 to 50, and the one who looked like he might be the oldest with a thick head of salt n’ pepper hair made eye contact with you and said he recognized you from somewhere.
God, the last thing you wanted was for a patron to recognize you from the gallery, that would be the worst.
“Probably from here?” You said with a lilt in your voice, trying to mask your bluff, hoping Jackie wouldn’t blurt out that it was your first day.
“No, I don’t think so,” he squinted, sitting back in his chair as he palmed his drink. “I’ve never been here before, so it couldn’t be that. But, I’m really good with faces, especially when one is as beautiful as yours.”
The forward compliment made you uncomfortable and you tucked your chin. He was a handsome older man, you couldn’t deny that. His eyes were such an intense blue, they were almost white, and you could tell from the way his shoulders fit in this suit jacket that he was in good shape and took care of himself. His friends were looking you up and down, and you could almost hear their internal lewd thoughts, but the older man—his name was John—kept polite eye contact with you as you talked. The watch he had on alone was worth at least a couple grand, and they all smelled like they were made of money.
But, none of them were Eddie, and so your banter felt particularly forced.
Thankfully, another group of customers came in and you excused yourself to follow Jackie over to the next table, wobbling for a moment in your heels before recovering quickly by bracing your hand on the back of a chair.
Later, just as John was leaving, a guy celebrating his 21st birthday had one too many tequila shots and tried to climb onto the stage, but his migration was interrupted by Thumper, who charged over to clam a big, meaty hand on his shoulder and remind him of the rules in a way that made the guys face go pale as he plopped back down into his seat.
You were standing at the bar with your back to John, but he came up behind you and touched your elbow. When you turned around to meet his gaze, he pressed some cash into your palm and said, “this is for you,” with a dimple and a wink, before heading out.
The rest of the group collectively left just as much of a tip on the table for Jackie. “A c-note tip on your first day?” She said with a shake of her head and a snort. “Sorry, but I kinda hate you right now.”
“Who was that John guy?” You whispered across the table to her as the two of you bussed the empty glasses.
“I have no idea,” Jackie shrugged. “His friends come in once in a while, but I’ve never seen that sexy DILF before. He had on a wedding ring, but most of the dudes who come in here do. It never keeps them from making a play.”
As the night progressed, there were eventually two girls dancing, one on each stage at opposite ends of the room. Jackie took her 15 minute break to go out into the alley for a smoke while you kept an eye on your tables. The dancers started a routine to Symphony of Destruction by Megadeth, and just when you had managed to get in a decent five minutes without Eddie on the brain, that song brought it all crashing back. You were at the far end of the bar, and when you glanced up to see who was coming in the front door---there he stood in the flesh, as if on cue: Edward Munson.
You blinked a few times, certain that your eyes were playing tricks on you and it was just someone who merely resembled Eddie, like a mirage appearing in the desert after you hadn’t had a sip of water in days. His muscular frame took up space in the doorway, wearing his black leather jacket, and his hair tied back to expose the two small silver hoops in his ear. He finished shaking Thumper’s hand, and then his eyes found yours, and the hint of a smile quivered on his lips. His gaze shifted around the room, taking in everyone in your vicinity, before they returned to you and hovered there.
A giddy breath hitched in your chest as you mirrored his reflexive grin, wholly unable to mask how happy you were to see him. But then, you remembered that this gorgeous dickhead is the one who selfishly left you in the wind for the past 3 days, and with a dramatic flourish of the tray in your hand, you spun on your heel to head in the other direction to check on some patrons near the stage.
---------
Eddie sat on his chopper with his boots planted wide on the pavement while he smoked a cigarette and stared at the red neon above the door to the Velvet Hammer. The decision to stay away had been to keep you out of Charlene’s cross hairs; to keep you from taking the brunt of this dark, underbelly of a life he had established for himself. As it turns out, staying away from you was too much torture for his raggedy old heart to bear, and that was saying a lot, considering the amount of shit he’d gone through in his life.
He indulged in long drags, sucking in his cheeks, watching people come and go out of the bar, wondering how you would react to him just popping in after days of silence. You knew he didn’t like talking on the phone, and besides---he needed to see your face. There was so much emotion a blind phone conversation could never capture; a lowering of the eyes or a worried brow. He needed to smell you, touch you, and taste your lips; he craved it in the deep corners of his cobwebbed soul.
If there was one thing about Eddie, he was patient when it came to matters of the heart. Matters of his dick were a different story, clearly, but when it came to those rare times in his life when he saw someone as a potential partner, he couldn't just dive in with reckless abandon; he wasn’t Steve. When Eddie loved someone, he handed over his entire heart: all of his loyalty, all of his trust, everything he owned---and that kind of vulnerability was not something he’d been open to feeling for what felt like an eternity.
There had been a woman who was very special to him once, years before you, and it ended with Eddie being hauled off to jail for beating the guy she was cheating on him with to a pulp. He bought a house and moved her in with him; he had a whole lifetime together with her planned in his head. But, there had been clear signs that it was never going to work, including the tiny detail that she never really loved him. Sure, she loved his image, the fact that he was in a band, the way he protected her, but he never felt like he could really be himself around her. He always felt tense and worried, like everything he did would never be enough.
He’d asked himself a million times since then what made him fall in love with her, and the most obvious answer what that he didn’t really know how love was supposed to feel at the time. His whole life, it felt like people were always leaving him, like he was always begging to be noticed and loved, and so her often cold disregard of him felt like familiar territory. Then, one day he comes home early from an overnight run with the Kings to find her taking it doggy style in their bed from this guitarist that Eddie had always considered a friend.
For months, she begged to come back, for him to forgive her, but once Eddie shuts a door, it locks forever. He knew he could never trust her again, which was the most important thing to him, and the pain of that betrayal still lingered like a permanent scar on his heart. In an effort to distract himself, he joined the Coffin Kings charter in Chicago and moved there for a year, fought in an underground bare knuckle ring, and did everything he could to numb himself. That was around the time Steve found out he was a father by way of Oliver basically being dumped at his doorstep, and Eddie realized he didn’t want to miss any more of his honorary nephew’s life.
All of the women he’d been with since then were just futile efforts to fill the void, until you.
So, what are you going to do about it, then, Munson? Just lurk out here on the street all night like a little kid at the fair who’s afraid of the big rides?
He dismounted the bike and stomped out his cigarette nub with the toe of his boot, adjusting the sleeves of his leather. Something made his defenses spike and he looked around the street to see if someone might be sitting in their car, watching him. At this point, he was almost certain that Charlene had paid someone to watch him, because for two days in a row, he’d noticed the same dark red Chevy Cavalier tailing him, staying at least one or two cars back. He didn’t see a car that fit the description parked anywhere near, but whoever it was could be anywhere, maybe even in the building across the street.
Charlene’s unhealthy obsession with him had to run it’s course eventually, she had to get bored and give up at one point. He hoped so, anyway. He couldn’t imagine her dragging this out for much longer, but he also never expected these threats from her in the first place, so he rightfully had his concerns. He thought maybe if he held out a few more weeks, she’d be off on one of her exotic vacations, and she could move on to ruining someone else’s life. But, he couldn’t wait that long to see you, to touch you. Hell, in a couple weeks you might not even want him anymore, and it was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.
There was a chance you might not want him now. There was a chance he’d already fucked everything up.
Thumper was a longtime friend, and he’d been with the Coffin Kings ever since back in the day when Wayne was a patched member. The two smacked their hands together in a signature grip as Eddie crossed the threshold onto the burgundy carpet. Inside the Velvet Hammer was buzzing with music and people and dancers wearing next to nothing on the back stages, people sitting shoulder to shoulder at the bar.
You might as well have been the only one there, though, because you were all he could see: simultaneously loving and hating the fact that you were dressed to kill. He’d never seen you in that color of lipstick before; it was a deep red and he ached to part them with his tongue.
He swore you were about to smile when your eyes met, he caught that adorable glimmer pass over your face and it made his heart still for a beat. But, then it faded just as quickly and you turned away to continue on with what you were doing, giving him the cold shoulder.
This was the first time you hadn’t rushed into his arms since this whole thing started, and it wrecked him. But, he also knew he kind of deserved it.
-----------
Your mouth was moving and sounds were coming out, but you couldn’t remember a word you’d said to the guys at the table in the corner who were still nursing their beers. Your ears were ringing and your adrenaline was surging, flushing a hot wave over your chest. Had Eddie come there to see you? Or was he just there to casually have a drink and get turned on like everyone else?
If he wasn’t there to see you, and he planned on just coming by to hang out once in a while, you’d have to quit. There’s no way you could keep seeing him on a regular basis if this was how he chose to treat you, it would hurt too damn much, and no job was worth that. You had this overwhelming urge to run and hide somewhere, but you couldn’t duck out until Jackie came back, and so you straightened your shoulders and turned to face the music like a big girl.
And there he was: standing at the bar with both elbows hooked on the ledge behind him, boots crossed at the ankles, waiting for you. You could tell that he had just been checking out your ass because of the way his gaze flicked up to your eyes with incriminating speed. His expression was unreadable, but that was nothing new.
Reluctantly, but also, with excitement bubbling in your veins, you made your way over to him, pausing briefly as one of the other servers walked out of the hallway where the bathrooms were. Another song started up, this time it was #1 Crush by Garbage.
“Do you have a break soon?” Eddie swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry at how hot you looked in that strange zipper dress. “Or, I can come back?” His mind couldn’t help but jump straight to the fact that every single dude in the place was thinking dirty thoughts about you, and it made his back teeth clench.
He was there to see you, you thought, your heart soaring. But in almost the same second you realized that he could be there to tell you that this wasn’t working out, that he didn’t want to see you anymore, that he met someone else, that he was moving to Brazil: all of which would be awful, but then at least you could start the process of moving on instead of hanging in limbo. Moving on from Eddie…that sounded like it was easier said than done.
Just then, as your mouth was open about so answer him, Jackie came out adjusting her belt, chewing gum. “Your turn,” she said as she walked between the two of you. “Take a fifteen. Oh, hey Munson,” she added passively at the end, patting him on the arm as she continued around the bar.
-------------
At the far end of the hallway there was a heavy metal door that locked from the outside automatically when it shut, and there was a little wood wedge out in the alley to keep it open a crack. You bent down to push the wedge into place while Eddie put his hands on his hips and stared at the brick of the building across the way so that he wouldn’t get an erection at the sight of your perfect ass up in the air.
On one side of you squatted a big, metal dumpster, and on the other side were a few square crates where employees sat during their breaks, the pavement between them littered with cigarette butts. It was dark, and the only illumination came from a bulb over the door across the way and a streetlamp further down where the alley met with the sidewalk.
Eddie could tell things were different, he could tell you were upset, probably even hurt and disappointed, and he hated that he had something to do with that. All he wanted to do was put his arms around you, but your energy was telling him that you weren’t ready for that.
“I’m sorry…” He hesitated. What was he sorry for? Lots of things. “...for breaking our date and not calling.”
Your tight stomach softened, and your gaze flicked to his after not being able to make eye contact since stepping out of the building.
Eddie hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and looked down at the ground, shuffling his foot. “I had some shit to take care of and I got overwhelmed. But I should’ve said something to you.”
This was starting to be a pattern with him, but you believed that he was telling the truth. It sounded like there was a lot more to the story, but a sincere apology was worth it’s weight in gold to you. You could also tell that he was nervous to be in front of you right then, like maybe you wouldn’t forgive him.
He opened his mouth to say something else and you reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it, making his gaze jump to yours. “Hey, it’s okay,” you told him as he unhooked his thumb from his belt loop and took your hand. “I missed your stupid face, that’s all.”
He gave a soft snort, a sparkle returning to his eyes.
You leaned in, resting your other hand on his chest, relishing the direction this conversation had gone and how safe and whole you felt in his presence. You searched his eyes. “You need to communicate with me if this is ever going to work, okay? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me things. Really, there’s nothing you could ever share with me about your life that I wouldn’t be able to handle.”
He really, really wanted to believe that was true, but the cynical part of him, the part that had learned to keep secrets as a way of life, doubted that anyone was that understanding.
“Come here,” he breathed on the curve of a smile, cupping your neck, and pulling your mouth to his. There were a few tender, sweet kisses, no tongue, and then he brushed his nose across yours a few times, lips brushing yours as he spoke. “I missed this.”
You kissed his bottom lip, and then his top lip, savoring their plump, perfect shape, before resting your head below his shoulder and wrapping your arms around him in a hug, his leather squeaking at your embrace.
You released a long, heavy breath. “I thought you came here to tell me you didn’t like me anymore.”
He kissed your temple. “I never said I liked you,” he mumbled, to which you dug your fingers into his ribs in an effort to tickle him, simultaneously trying to pull away. But, he held you tightly in place, deep chuckles rumbling in his chest. “It’s much more than that.”
At those words, you settled, smile pressed up against him, swooning so hard you felt like you were drunk.
What he had with you was special, and now, in his thirties, Eddie knew how rare this kind of chemistry was. You were the drug he wanted to be strung out on.
This...this was his, and he wouldn’t let anyone, especially Charlene, take it away from him.
--------------
There was a pep in your step when you returned to work, enough so that Jackie commented on it, giving you a side eye. “Who the hell got you off on your break?” she asked rhetorically.
Truly, your break had felt like it was over in a blink, like you and Eddie had only been standing out in the alleyway for a second before you checked your Swatch and had to scramble back inside. He asked if he could wait for you and walk you back to your car when your shift was over, and you were fine with that, but you let him know it would be another hour or so, and he didn’t seem to mind.
Eddie knew a lot of the people who worked at the Velvet Hammer. Or, more precisely, the people who worked there knew Eddie. The bartender that night was a guy who looked like Kurt Cobain and he ignored everyone else to make sure Eddie got what he wanted the second he sat down at the bar. The place was packed by then, but every chance you got, you would walk by and run your hand across Eddie’s back and give him a flirty glance over your shoulder as you schlepped drinks around.
Thumper came over and sat next to Eddie when the night got slow and had a beer with him, and the two went out front to have a smoke and chat about the good ‘ol days.
“Is that new server your old lady?” Thumper asked after a drag on his cigarette. He flicked the ashes to the sidewalk and cocked his head.
Eddie propped his foot up behind him, against the building, wallet chain hanging down his thigh, thoughtfully exhaling gray smoke into the night. “Maybe, if I don’t fuck everything up,” he coughed.
Thumper wheezed in a laughing spasm. “You still sticking it to that rich bitch, what’s her name?”
Eddie stiffened. “That’s been over for a while. Bitch got all Fatal Attraction on me,” Eddie’s vernacular took a turn when he was around the older charter members, it was second nature.
“Man, I wish I was 20 years younger,” Thumper sucked in the tuft of graying hair that was under his lip. “Those were the days.”
Eddie was eager to change the subject. “How is the fourth marriage working out for you?”
“Fifth,” Thumper corrected with a nod. “Divorced Jeanie last spring, married Lorraine a few months ago. No kids this time, I got the snip. One more baby momma would break me.”
As bleak as the conversation topic was, Eddie had an inner warmth radiating through his body, healing him, now that he knew the two of you were back in a good place. He didn’t know if a traditional wedding or kids were things that you wanted, but he saw himself making coffee for you in the morning and bringing it to you in your studio while you worked on a painting. He could see you running out the door to hug him as he dragged himself home after a long day at work. A life together with a porch swing and a view of the sunset, maybe a cat and a dog and some chickens. A big garage for his bike and whatever classic car he was working on at the time.
God, he was getting a head of himself. Did you even like dogs?
-----------
Back in the dressing room at the end of your shift, you and Jackie were both changing out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable when Jackie whipped around in only her bra and panties, startling you as you pulled your shirt on over your head.
“Hold up, you never told me you were Eddie Munson’s girl,” she hushed, giving you a sustained look of awe. “The stories I’ve heard about that cock are legendary.”
The way she sounded when she said it suggested that you should’ve been proud, but the declaration only succeeded in activating your anxiety. You tried not to think of all of the women in town he’d given orgasms to as you tied the laces on your shoes. As long as he was faithful to you, none of that other business should matter. But still, somehow it did. That reminded you, maybe it was time to lay the cards out on the table and have that monogamy talk before you got more invested than you already were.
There were still a few customers hunched over their drinks as you walked out, but the dancers were done, and you said goodbye to Jesse, the bartender, thanking him for all of his help. Jackie gave you a high five, and hugged Thumper before she headed off down the opposite side of the street, high ponytail bobbing.
You smiled up at Eddie who was standing there with his arm out, waiting for you to curl against him so he could wrap it around your shoulders.
“I thought for sure you would’ve ditched me by now,” you told him, slipping one of your hands into his back pocket.
“Nah, you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Eddie joked, lifting his hand in a wave to Thumper as the two of you headed off down the street.
“Take care of that one,” Thumper shouted. “She’s a good girl.”
------------
“Are you?” Eddie asked as the two of you approached your car that was parked a block away.
“Am I what?” You asked, stopping to turn and gaze up into his face.
Eddie lifted his chin with a smirk, exposing the tattoo lines that peeked out of the collar of his shirt across his throat. “A good girl?”
You wet your bottom lip with the tip of your tongue and tilted your head. “Depends on who wants to know.”
He pulled took you into his arms for another kiss, eager tongues this time, moans in the back of throats, cock jumping in his jeans.
Your lips came away just enough to speak, your hand cupping his face, the stubble around his jaw prickling your palm. “What about you? Are you a good boy?”
There was a shiver of hesitation on his breath before he answered. “Only for you.”
The two of you were locked in a moment, you could’ve been on the sidewalk, you could’ve been standing on the moon---nothing mattered and you had no concept of time.
But then Eddie spoke up again. “Do you wanna get out of here? Go for a ride? I want to show you something.”
You didn’t have to be back at the Velvet Hammer until Saturday, and the thought of getting on Eddie’s bike again gave you excited goosebumps.
Eddie started opening the strap on one of the black leather saddlebags on the back of his chopper once the two of you arrived, and you stood back and watched as he pulled out a second bare bones helmet, the top shiny like the round edge of a bowling ball.
“I got this for you,” Eddie said, passing it over. “It should fit better than mine.”
You were speechless for a moment, looking down at it, touched by the thoughtful gift. “Thank you, I love it,” you whispered. He placed it on your head and adjusted the strap under your chin, diligently making sure it fit correctly.
“Is it too tight?” He asked, making sure the sides weren’t pinning your ears.
“It’s perfect,” you nodded.
He straddled the bike. “Do you remember how to get on?”
But you were already grabbing onto the back of his jacket and swinging your leg over. You’d been practicing getting on the back of Eddie’s bike in your dreams.
-------------
You clung to him as the two of you sped along in the dark, your fingertips meeting at his stomach, chest glued to his back, core locked to his tailbone. He had on a pair of clear, protective glasses to keep the bugs from blinding him, and every so often, he would reach one hand down and put it over yours as the bike wound up the hill. You’d kiss the exposed skin on the back of his neck between his hairline and the collar of his leather, and he’d squeeze your thigh.
The spot he wanted to you to was a grass ledge near a line of cherry blossom trees that overlooked the city. He pulled out a thin blanket from one of his saddlebags and stretched it out over the grass. Lights down below twinkled like stars and you took your new helmet off to get comfortable next to him.
“Yep, it’s ugly,” you joked, referring to the spectacular view.
Eddie stretched his legs out in front of him and braced himself on his hands. “I knew you’d hate it just as much as I do,” but then there was a sliver of hesitation, his foot moving back and forth as he considered if he should say it or not. “I’ve never taken anyone up here before.”
Summer was fast approaching as far as the temperature went, but the nights were still chilly, and you had a sweatshirt on, but his proximity and the tone of his voice was rapidly throwing coals on the fire in your circulatory system.
Things progressed quickly. One second, you were laughing at a joke he made, and the next---your lips were on each other, hands roaming over each other’s bodies, heat throbbing between your legs. You were trying to push his jacket off, but Eddie sat up and removed it in a flash, tossing it on the bike with a twist of his wrist.
You rutted your hips against him a few times, but you could sense the hesitancy he had for whatever reason, and you took hold of his hand to move it down to your core, enjoying the growl he let out when he latched on to the wet heat already permeating through your jeans. You clung to his neck as he unzipped them, and you wiggled your hips out so he could slide his hand in. He paused only to take his rings off of his H-E-L-L-F-I-R-E knuckles, and then his fingers dipped back down to curl inside your underwear, slipping into the gushing arousal he found there, groaning against your mouth.
His thick fingers rolled in circles over your anxious nub. “Is this mine?” He asked in a throaty whisper, pressing his forehead to yours, waiting for you to answer.
Saliva got stuck in your throat but you whimpered a yes. He starts to slip his fingers down through your folds and you quiver as he travels deeper, aching to penetrate you, but you catch his wrist, stopping him from going any further.
“I have to...to say something,” you breathed.
Eddie pulled his hand out and rested it on your thigh, and brought his face back so he could see your eyes as you blinked at him under the moonlight. “You can tell me anything, baby.”
You planted a kiss on his chin, feeling nervous for some reason when it came to setting your boundaries. “I can’t be intimate with you if you’re also doing this with other women. I need to know that we’re…” you struggled with how to word that. Demanding some large scale commitment from him might come off as getting ahead of yourself. “I need to know that you and I are something special and there’s no one else,” you paused to lick your lips, eyes lowered to the neckline of his shirt.
Nothing you said could’ve pleased Eddie more, and his attraction to you intensified ten fold in that moment. He used the crook of his finger to tilt your chin up, encouraging you to meet his eyes. “There’s no one else. There hasn’t been anyone else since the barbecue at Robin’s house.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to add, “if you’re my girl, there will never be anyone else,” but he didn’t want to come off as smothering, or make you feel uncomfortable with the intensity in which he was capable of devoting to you.
Relieved, you brushed his cheek with your thumb. “Trust and monogamy are really important to me, I need to know I can trust you,” your eyes met, searching deep, and he pulled your hand to his chest. “You’re the only one I want to be with, and I think we could---”
But Eddie’s lips found yours with a new level of need as he wholeheartedly agreed, so caught up in his growing feelings for you that he didn’t have the words to express them. He could ramble on about cars and music and bikes all day long, but when it came to feelings like this? He was struck dumb.
“I want to taste my girl,” he choked out, helping to work your jeans down with his hand as you kicked them down and off, keeping your mouth on his while your hand clutched his hair that had fallen from the tie and was loose around his shoulders.
“I want to be in your mouth, baby,” you gasped as he met your eyes and then made his way down, lifting your shirt to kiss your stomach, tongue darting out to tease your flesh, face stubble tickling.
A purr escaped his throat as his mouth found its destination and he planted kisses on the outside of your soaked underwear, down your slit, and then he peeled them to the side with his finger, darting his tongue in just enough to make you writhe.
“You can...take those off…” you breathed.
He kissed your inner thigh. “You let me take care of it,” he told you in a deep voice, as he continued on with his business.
His tongue dove in to penetrate you a few times, swallowing, groaning, “fuck, you taste so good,” his hot breath fanned against you as his cock begged for release, his hips rocking against the ground.
The need to be inside of you was overwhelming; painful, even, but he hadn’t brought any condoms with him, and he didn’t know how you would feel about being that close to him this soon in the game. The thought of getting you to cum in his mouth already had his cock leaking.
For some reason, the way he pulled your underwear to the side was turning you on even more? He sucked your clit in and flicked it with his tongue, moaning against you, and it made you arch your chest, exposing your throat to the cherry blossoms above as you cursed. He drew a few long licks along your slit, and then you felt a finger go in just as your fingers dug into the grass on either side of the blanket.
“Are you mine?” Eddie asked between sucks, sinking another finger in.
Crickets made their music all around as the soft hush of the town life below drifted up in the darkness.
“I’m-I’m all yours, baby,” you stammered, forehead clenched.
Eddie’s fingers found a rhythm, moving long and deep in fast strokes as his mouth found the perfect spot that made you hiss, “right there right there,” and he kept working until he could feel your tight walls start to clench around his fingers.
“You’re so good, baby,” you were mumbling, barely coherent now as a strangled cry escaped your lips and your hips fucked into his hand and Eddie’s pelvis fucked the ground, and your eyes started to roll back in your head.
“Eddie, Eddie, cum-cum-cumming,” you jerked as the velvet walls crashed around you, limbs popping spasmodically, whimpering his name.
Eddie pressed his mouth against your core, one hand around your thigh to pin you against his tongue so that he could drink every last drop, riding the high with you until he knew your nub would be too sensitive, and then his tongue returned to your hole a few times, moaning with pleasure at the sweet nectar of your release.
And then you were pulling him up, coaxing him into your arms, your mouth eager to find his and taste your spend on his lips. He wrapped the side of the blanket around you to keep you warm as you rolled against him, both lost in an oxytocin high, muttering words of affection to each other.
Both falling hard under the adoring pink eyes of the cherry blossoms.
------------
The next day, someone knocked on the door to the women’s restroom at the Velvet Hammer because it was locked, and Steve’s head sprang up from between the thighs of the woman he had propped up on the sink counter.
“Ocupado!” he yelled in Spanish, lips and chin glistening in the dim red light.
The woman with the short skirt shoved up around her waist and her feet planted on his shoulders whined, “Don’t stop, Stevie, I’m close,” which made Steve’s mouth lunge forward again with unbridled enthusiasm.
About a minute later, she came, while grabbing his hair and telling him no one ever made her cum that hard. She was a yoga instructor, and they’d only met up a few times so far, but he was already thinking about getting her name tattooed somewhere on his body.
As they were cleaning up, there was another knock at the door, this time it was more of an aggressive pounding, followed by the voice of Jackie, one of the servers. “Telephone call for you, Casanova!” She swatted the door a few more times with the palm of her hand.
Steve let Mary the yoga instructor go out first, and then he followed after a ten count, tucking his shirt in and slicking his hair back as he went. Mary went to the bar to wait for him. It was almost 9:30 and he was getting off early that night because there was another bouncer there, and it was slow for a Friday.
Steve ducked in behind the bar and yanked the receiver to his ear. “Yeah, this is Steve? Whadda ya want?”
It was you, and by the sound of the gentle sucking in of breath and tremor in your voice, you had been crying. Your voice was a tiny mew. “Steve? Have you seen Eddie tonight?”
At the dire tone of your voice, Steve curled into the corner of the bar and put a finger in his other ear so that he could hear you more clearly. “I haven’t, but I should put an ankle monitor on him. Are you okay? Are Oliver and the girls okay?”
You cleared your throat, about to try and explain, but then just said, “Everyone is fine. I’m sorry to bother you. I have to go,” and then you hung up on him, sobs jerking in your chest.
-----------
Earlier that same evening, Robin and Oliver came over to have a pizza night with you and Katie at your place, and then Robin and Katie cuddled in front of the TV while you and Oliver spread out at the kitchen table to make some art.
You had been messing around with some watercolor pencil sketches when they first arrived, and Oliver was mesmerized. He sat as close as he could to you and asked if he could help. You brought out a bunch of markers and crayons and brushes from your studio, and the two of you worked in silence for periods of time, just enjoying the craft. He was a creative, intelligent little boy, and the latent motherhood genes in your DNA made you feel very protective of him. Mess with you? Fine. Mess with Oliver? I will end you.
His concentration reminded you of a younger you, honestly, and a couple times he mentioned his Uncle Eddie and your heart swelled.
Speaking of Eddie---last night, after he made you cum like a banshee, you got dressed so he could take you back down the hill to your car. You called him once you got home, like he asked you to, but you hadn’t heard from him since. Fridays were always busy for him at work, never mind the rest of the shit he had to deal with, so you weren’t too worried about it. He’d probably call you later when he was in bed. There had been a palpable shift, and things were different between the two of you now. You were both on the same page, each committed to a mutual respect for each other.
By the end of the evening, when there was only a few crusts of pizza left in the box, Oliver gathered the handful of artwork he’d created on your sketchbook paper, and slid them over to you as if he was making a business deal.
“Can you sell these in your gallery?” he asked, bending one of his small fingers into the stack. “That way I can help my mom pay some bills.”
For more reasons that one, you started to tear up. You turned your head away to sniff and ran your finger under your eyes, blinking as wide as you could to keep the waterworks at bay.
“Ollie,” Robin said softly. She had just been coming up behind him when he said that, and her eyes met yours. “Things have been a bit stressful lately, but I never told him to---”
“I wish I could,” you nodded, composing yourself, turning to smile at Oliver. “These drawings are worth way too much, though, our gallery could never afford them.”
He looked thoughtfully down at the stack and shuffled them, smiling to himself, and then he pulled one out and passed hit to you. “This one is you and uncle Eddie. You can keep it.”
You were suddenly so emotional. Was your period close? Was someone cutting onions?
The picture he drew with watercolor pencils and charcoal and crayons was a tall stick figure with long, wavy dark hair holding hands with a big pink heart with arms and legs, but no hair or other defining characteristics. An orange oval with legs and a round head to represent your cat Charlie, and there were “m” shaped birds and a sun in the sky.
You thanked Oliver, swallowing back a hitch in your chest, and immediately went over to put his artwork on the fridge, wiping your wet cheeks.
-------
Robin and Oliver had been gone for 20 minutes or so, and you and Katie were wrapped up on opposite ends of the couch watching a horror movie in the dark, candles burning on the coffee table, when the doorbell rang.
It didn’t just ding once: whoever it was blasted their finger onto the button a good 6 or 7 times before they let up.
“What the hell,” you murmured, pausing the tape as you got up, prancing to the door, hoping that it might be Eddie.
You peaked through the peephole and was confused to see no one there. Your eyeball was scanning around for other signs of life when it landed on a manila envelope on the doormat.
“Where you expecting some mail?” You called to Katie, and she got so curious, she jumped up from the couch to come down the hall and see what made you ask that.
She checked the peephole to take a look at the envelope and the surrounding area. Down the street, you heard a car engine start up.
You backed up, worry creasing your brow. “Leave it. I have a bad feeling.”
Katie threw you a look over her shoulder before she unlocked the door and swiftly bent down to snatch the envelope before reeling back inside and clamping the locks down again.
“It has your name on it,” she said, handing it to you.
Sure enough, on the front was your full name in block letters, and on the other side was a sealed lip held in place by an aluminum tab.
Just then, a dark red Chevy Cavalier crept down the street without its headlights and eased onto the main road, out of sight.
-----------
Eddie was at the garage finishing up until 6, and then he had a beer with Bones, who was also a Coffin King and one of his mechanics, and then he went over to Wayne’s to help him install a new cabinet in his bathroom. He made them both some tomato soup and grilled cheese for dinner, and it got him wondering if you would like it if he made it for you.
It was getting late, and he almost called you from Wayne’s, but decided it would feel good to take his boots off and lay down first. He’d let you know the night before that you might not hear from him until late; he was determined to be a better communicator and not let you down again.
He yawned as he entered his apartment, locking the door behind him and throwing his leather on the back of the sofa.
The new answering machine that he had picked up from Radio Shack on his lunch break, and set up at your request, was blinking that he had 2 new messages, but it wasn’t something he was used to checking, so he cracked open a beer and hopped in the shower first.
------------
Once you saw what was in the envelope, denial was the first stage you jumped to.
“But, what are these?” You spread them out on the kitchen island, shock clamping down on your brain so that it refused to process the information in front of you.
They were 8x10 photos, taken with some type of high-powered camera...of Eddie. In his apartment. With two different women on separate occasions. All taken within the past couple days.
How did you know that they were taken within the last couple days? Whoever took them didn’t want to leave you with any room for doubt, and so they were holding up the front page of the paper for that day to mark each incident.
But, you knew Eddie so well, that detail would not have been necessary.
In the ones where he was in nothing but his boxers, kissing Erica in the hallway, you could see the markings from the love bite on his neck that you had accidentally given him over the weekend when he came to pick you up at the gallery.
In the second set of photos, where a tattooed redhead you didn’t recognize was behind him on the bed with her arms wrapped around him---he was in the exact same t-shirt he’d worn last night with a smudge of your red lipstick on the white collar. From when you were both under the cherry blossoms. When he promised that you could trust him and there was no one else. After you opened yourself up to him and let him take a piece of you.
“Who would do this?” Katie said in a hush, almost to herself, picking up each one to look at it closer. “Why would someone do this?”
“There must be a mistake,” you mumbled, your nervous system crashing, feeling lightheaded.
Katie swallowed and put down the photo she was holding, giving you a look that was full of sadness and concern. “How could it be a mistake, though? That is definitely Eddie.”
Feeling yourself about to lose it, you scrambled to pull all of the photos together and hurried down the hall to lock yourself in your room. Once inside, you clutched the photos to your chest and slid down the door until you were on the ground, shaking, choking on tears.
-----------
The older man with the salt n’ pepper hair and crystal blue eyes returned to the Velvet Hammer on Friday evening just to see if you were working. He had a whiskey sour at the bar and asked after you, but was told you didn’t have a shift that evening. Steve overheard the conversation he was having with the bartender and went over to him.
“She’s a friend of mine,” Steve raised an eyebrow, rolling a toothpick between his lips. “Why are you asking about her?”
John turned on his bar stool and shook Steve’s hand, white teeth brilliant against his tan skin.
“She waited on our table the other day, and, it took me a while, but I finally realized where I knew her from.” He paused to extend his hand and ask Steve if he could buy him a drink, but Steve declined.
John opened his wallet to pull a business card out. “I bought some original art from her at an outdoor market a few years ago. She’s a brilliant painter," he met Steve’s bored gaze, seemingly unaffected by the intimidation factor that he usually had on people.
He handed Steve his card. “I’d love to commission another piece from her, if she’s willing. Do you think you could have her call my office?”
Steve inspected the card, turning it over.
“I wrote my personal line on the back,” he continued. “I’m usually at work, but my secretary always knows where to find me.”
Steve knew that you’d be glad for the extra cash, so he slipped the guys card in his back pocket instead of throwing it away like he normally would.
“I didn’t catch your name?” John asked Steve.
“That’s because I never threw it,” Steve returned, introducing himself.
“Good to meet you, Steve,” he nodded sincerely. “My name is John. John Gregson.”
Steve had already read his name on the business card and was still trying to figure out why it sounded so familiar as he watched him get into a black Mercedes across the street.
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Eddie was in his gray sweats, drying his hair with a towel when he finally noticed the number 2 flashing on the machine. He pushed play absently as he went to sit on the bed.
The first message sounded like a strangled gasp and then a sniffle, and it made his head snap up, both hands holding onto the blue towel around his neck.
“...Eddie…” it was you, and he could tell you were in distress, and you’d been crying. He leaned forward to hover over the machine, his brow clenched. There was a stretch of time where you were struggling to speak and only managed to swallow a few times. “….why would you do this to me?” Then another pause when it sounded like you were whispering whywhywhy over and over under your breath.
You finished with, “This hurts so bad...." And then there was a click and the message abruptly stopped.
Eddie’s head was reeling, fear and worry jack-hammering in his veins.
His eyes wide and frantic, he picked up the receiver to call you, but then the second message clicked on.
The sound of Charlene’s voice spiked with amused laughter sent a dagger into his gut:
“I warned you.”
--------
Part 9
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Taglist for my loves: @hideoutside @leilalaufeyson02 @lilpotatobean2 @dandelionnfluff @sidthedollface2
@munsons-mayhem28 @eddiemunson95 @kelsiegrin
@ireidsmut @stylesxmunson @nope-thanks @lofaewrites @corrodedcoffinsmut @seventhlevelofhell @whatwedontdointheshadows @falling-solar-system @kurdtbean
@emxcast @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @ms1oftheboys
@hellv1ra @dream-a-little-nightmare @etherealglimmer @manicmagicmayhem @layla-loves-ed @aysheashea @unfocused81 @notsobubblybaby @truffleshuffle12
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matan4il · 6 months
Text
Daily update post:
The biggest news out of Israel today is of course that late last night, the government approved a deal with Hamas to release some of the hostages. Here are the details as reported on the news:
50 hostages will be released in 4 groups over the course of 4 days, during which there would be no fighting. Hamas said they will be women and kids, Israel will only be told who's being released the day before. Not all kids are being released. Israel in exchange will release 150 people convicted for terrorist activity. Hamas says it will use these 4 days to try and locate 20 more hostages to be released. Hamas says that some of the hostages are in the hands of smaller terrorist organizations, and some are also being held by civilian families. Just a reminder that some civilians from Gaza followed the terrorists into Israel once the border fence was torn down. Most probably just to loot the houses attacked by terrorists, but at least some partook in the killing of Israeli civilians. Here is a vid of one such man, riding a bicycle stolen from a murdered Israeli, bragging about having killed 3 family members...
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For every additional hostage Hamas finds and releases beyond the 50 agreed upon, it will get 3 more convicted terrorists released. For every 10, it will get one more day without fighting, for a total possible break of 6 days. In addition, Israel will not be flying over Gaza, not airplanes and not drones, for 6 hours daily.
It's reported that the stop in fighting will start tomorrow (Thursday) at 10 in the morning. Based on past experience, you can expect Hamas to fire rockets at Israel even past 10, just to show it got the "last word" and Israel will have to contain this, in order to keep the whole deal from falling apart.
The ambivalence about the deal that I tried to express in yesterday's daily post is what I'm hearing almost across the board. People want the hostages who will be freed, they're afraid for the fate of those who won't be, and they're scared of how Hamas might use this break in the fighting.
I think the most infuriating thing Israelis have come across is people describing the deal as "hostage exchange." Multiple Israelis have posted to make the same point: the hostages kidnapped from Israel were all innocent. The prisoners that will be released were all convicted for violent activity. They did not murder, but they tried to.
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I saw an interview with one Israeli mother who had survived an attempted murder by a terrorist. She discovered that the woman who committed that crime is one of the prisoners who might be released. The thing is, they used to live in the same neighborhood. The mother asked, "Why should my kid have to see every day the woman who tried to kill me?" Almagor, an Israeli organization for victims of terrorism, has petitioned the Israeli supreme court against the deal. It's not likely to work, as the supreme court has indicated in the past it has no jurisdiction over political decisions, only legal ones.
And of course there's the fear that more Israeli soldiers might pay the price for the fact that Hamas will use the break in the fighting to re-arm and learn from its failures so far. That's the better scenario. There's also the possibility that Hamas would do what they did on "The Black Friday" in 2014. On Aug 1, a ceasefire with Hamas was supposed to start at 8 in the morning. At 9:05 Hamas terrorists used a terror tunnel to attack Israeli soldiers, murder them and kidnap the body of one of them, Hadar Goldin. Nine years later, the body has not yet been returned.
Today is not a day of relief in Israel.
The UK has announced it would allocate 7 million pounds to fighting antisemitism, which is welcome news. Switzerland said it will pass legislation that would prohibit Hamas activity through it.
A uniquely Israeli moment that happened yesterday... Jewish first sergeant Mordechai Shenvald, who was seriously injured in Gaza, playing with his Arab physician, Doctor Darwashe, a song by famous Arab singer Um Kultum, called Inti Umri:
Israel has torn down today a Jewish settlement established illegally in the disputed territories. You'll always hear about when Israel takes down Arab houses built illegally, but I bet most people here havne't heard about it when Jewish Israeli civilians get the exact same treatment for this exact same offense.
This is part of the testimony of a father to a girl with special needs, whose family has survived the Oct 7 massacre:
instagram
This is 25 years old Shani Gabai.
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She was considered missing since the Oct 7 massacre. Today, her body was identified among the other victims of the music festival.
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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Nighttime Surprise
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Pieces of My Heart - Chapter 4 Stray Kids OT8 x reader, Soulmate AU
Masterlist | Next Part
You were woken up by your phone ringing. With your eyes protesting the sudden light as you opened them, you realized through your half awake daze that you had left the lights on as you fumbled for your phone. By the time you managed to locate it, the ringing had stopped.
A quick glance at your phone told you it was only 8pm. You had 3 unread messages along with the missed call. 2 of them were from the group chat that had been created earlier that day.
Soulmates
Seungmin
Hey, we just finished practice. have you had dinner yet?
Felix
We're ordering pizza. Want some?
Both of those had been sent 2 hours ago. The most recent one was from 20 minutes ago, and was a private message.
Minho
Are you sleeping?
A knock on your hotel room door had you stumbling out of bed just as you saw who the missed call was from. You threw the door open with a glare. "If you thought I was sleeping, why would you call me?"
He stood in front of your door bare faced in a pair of sweatpants and a short-sleeved black shirt, hair still wet from what must have been a recent shower. And yet somehow he still managed to look like a model.
"To wake you," he said nonchalantly, walking right past you.
"Then why ask if I was awake in the first place," You muttered to yourself, closing the door behind him. "I didn't see the other texts until now, sorry. I fell asleep."
"It's okay, the others understand. It was long day."
Minho was looking around your hotel room, an almost carbon copy of the one he and Jeongin shared just a floor above. When he lifted the top of your suitcase to reveal your clothes, and subsequently the pair of underwear that was sitting at the top, you immediately jumped forward and slammed it back down.
"I already ate," You said a little too quickly, your face heating up.
"Me too."
You stared at the dark haired man with furrowed brows. His eyes still wandered around the room with curiosity as he placed his hands behind his back, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He turned to look at you and gave you an innocent smile.
You blinked in confusion. "Then why are you here?"
Minho's smile dropped. "Do you not want me here?"
"No! I mean, I'm happy to see you, I just ... I thought we agreed to meet up tomorrow?"
And that had been the plan. The boys had been informed of their last minute practice to go over some choreo changes for the concert tomorrow, so they had unfortunately bid you goodbye with the promise to see each other early the next morning. You had exchanged phone numbers, been added to a newly made group chat, and then made the horrible decision to go sightseeing. Only 2 hours in and you had been exhausted, the soulmate high wearing off and leaving you drained. So after a quick meal and a shower, you crashed.
And now Minho was in your room.
"You didn't answer, Channie-hyung say you were probably sleeping," Minho began.
"So you decided to wake me up?"
"The others agree to wait until tomorrow."
"Okay?"
Minho stepped forward, his arms suddenly reaching out to brace himself against the desk behind you, trapping you in between. He leaned forward with a smirk. "I don't want to wait."
Your brain short-circuited. "W-what?"
"I wanted to see you," He clarified, leaning back.
You let out a laugh of disbelief, your hands reaching up to press against your mouth. You immediately dropped them, trying to play it cool with a cough.
"Right. Okay, so you saw me." Minho lifted his hand to tuck a stray hair behind your ear and you faltered. "Uhh, right. Okay. Now what?"
"Now?"
The hand that had been hovering near your face slid down your back, settling against your waist as Minho pulled you in closer. You stumbled at the sudden movement, hands reaching out against his chest to steady yourself, and he used the opportunity to bend you back against the table, his mouth brushing up against your cheek as he moved to whisper in your ear.
"Now we sleep."
"Huh?"
And just like that he was pulling away, only the red of his ears giving away his false bravado as he made his way over to your bed. He settled back against your pillows like he owned the place. And then he patted the spot next to him. "Sleep."
You followed slowly, pausing at the edge of the bed. "You want to sleep."
"You tired. So we sleep."
"Just to be clear," You placed your phone on the side table. "You mean just sleep, right?"
Minho gave you a heated look, and you swallowed hard. You evaluated your rapid heart rate, your burning cheeks, the heat in your chest and arms and in between your legs. You usually weren't the type to get into bed with a guy after just meeting them, but if he asked you too, you didn't think you'd have the restraint to say no.
Due to your sudden realization, you weren't sure if it was a relief or a disappointment when Minho answered. "Yes, just sleep."
You shook your head. "Right."
It took you a moment to recover, but you eventually managed to get yourself ready for bed, brushing your teeth and making sure to actually turn off the lights this time around. Sliding under the covers in the dark made you very aware of the body lying next to you. His presence was right there, close enough to touch, but he made no moves to get closer to you, so you settled on your side.
You could just barely see the outline of his face from the sliver of streetlight that made it past the curtains. His eyes were closed, but you knew he wasn’t asleep just yet. You reached out, fingertips brushing against his arm.
“Minho?”
“Hmm?”
“Do the others know you’re here right now?”
“Ah, no. Secret.”
You smiled. “They’re going to realize it pretty quickly. At least Jeongin’s going to know you didn’t sleep in your room.”
He muttered something in Korean. “Don’t worry. Sleep.”
You bit your lip, rolling over onto your back. The silence was deafening, and even though you were tired, wanting nothing more than to just close your eyes and go to sleep, you found yourself unable to relax. You rolled over onto your other side, hoping to get comfortable, but it was only a few minutes later that you were rolling back onto your side.
Minho let out a sigh. “Sleep.”
“I’m trying,” You muttered.
Hands slapped around on the bed until he managed to grab your hand, and Minho pulled you closer until you were lying on top of him, wrapping one arm around your back and throwing the other one behind his head. He rubbed your back softly.
“Better?”
You hummed, shifting your body so you could throw one leg over his and managed to cram your arm into a more comfortable position. And then you finally relaxed.
Minho patted your back. “Jagi, you’re stay, right?”
“Jeongin’s a little snitch.”
“Snitch?”
“Told you something you didn’t need to know,” You clarified.
“Ah. Not snitch, good baby bread. It’s good to know,” He argued.
You sniffed. “I guess.”
“You go to concert tomorrow.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. “We talk to manager-hyung, get you backstage pass.”
“You don’t have to do that,” You whispered, lifting your head.
“Want to,” He reassured you, pulling you back down. With your ear resting against his chest, you could hear his heart beating fast. “We, uh … I want you there.”
You moved your hand so that you were hugging him back, giving him a tiny squeeze. “Thank you.”
He squeezed you back. “Sleep.”
And so you did.
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kanmom51 · 9 months
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JM live 1 September 2023 20:54 or 8:54 pm KST
And a little bit about JK's same day live as well.
Part 1
Cr./The creators of the media used in this post.
So we got a live from JK at the start of the day. 12:55 am or 00:55 KST, and from JM in the evening, at 20:55 or 8:54 pm KST.
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One opening the days birthday celebrations (or was he?) and the other closing them (in a sense).
Do we have numbers working for the two?
Let's see.
JK's live:
Super easy. Add the 1+2+5+5=13. Then add 0+0+5+5=10.
What?
13/10.
So we get JK's special day with JM's special day. How sweet.
JM's live: Add the 2+0+5+4=11. Then add the 8+5+4=17 and down to a single digit: 1+7=8.
Guess what we get.
8/11
And if you want just a little bit more utilize the date:
1/9/23
1+9+2+3=15
and Ta-dah...
8/11/15
Oh, and if it's numbers we are talking about, and if anyone has any kind of doubt that numbers mean so so much to JM and JK, well here's another little doozy.
JM's watch. Yes, the tens of thousands of dollars worth watch he was wearing during the live.
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*Screenshot taken at 3:20 min. mark.
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It's a little hard to see, but the time on his watch looks to be around the 3:27 mark.
I want to remind you that JM started his live at 8:54 pm KST. JM has been in SK for months and you would think his watch would be set to KST, no?
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Screen shot at 8:24 min.
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Screenshot of watch at 32:56 min. mark.
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Deduct the live time stamp at every one of those given moments from the time on the watch and you will go back to 3:23/4.
Why, you may ask, am I making such a big deal about this?
Well, my dear friends, this is why:
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JK's time of birth tattoo, just to remind you.
JK's time of birth being 3:23-24.
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Did JM set his watch to start the live at 3:23-24? JK's birth time?
Wait, but that's not the end of it.
Because JM's watch is also of significance.
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Launched in 1997.
What in the effing hell?
Like, if you have another explanation please do explain!!!
Watch not working? Nope, it is, time counting as the live goes on, all from the 3:23 mark.
Coincidence? Again? That his watch happens to be set at JK's birth time, and it also, by chance, being one launched same year JK was born? JK, who's birthday happens to be on that specific day? The person who JM tells us to wish happy birthday and that it's a "wonderful day"?
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Please don't continue to say this is all a coincidence. Setting your watch to a time that happens to be JK's birth time, something we have been told in the past, something that JK tattooed on his own body, hence being of significance to him, and most obviously of significance to JM as well.
JM and JK might not be saying the words out loud, but shit, they sure are being as loud as hell about what they are to each other!!!
Ok, so I mentioned in passing JK's live. His almost 9 minute live. His totally out of character shorter than short live, even more so when we are talking about a birthday live. No cake. No candles. No playlist (he told us this was just the music that he left on when he left earlier and it's still playing). No patience, lol. He came, he said hi, he told us he was out with friends he was practicing with (wonder if the reason he came live is to explain who with and why he was out and about...), said he's suffering from insomnia and he has to sleep. Did a card trick...MAGIC... Lol, and ducked. Like even his goodbye was super super short. Now, you could say he had a tight schedule, which he does, and that he has to sleep, which he does. But JK was definitley not on his way to bed when he was doing that live, nor shortly after. He was happy and super hyped, and in NO WAY shape or form about to go to bed at that point.
We need to remember that when they say they have a schedule, it's not a 9 to 5 job. Many a times their days start at noon and later and they keep on working into the early hours of the morning. That is the nature of their work. So having a tight schedule doesn't necessarily mean he has to be up at 7 or 8 am and off to the company or wherever he needs to be in the morning.
You could claim he was excited because it was his birthday, and perhaps you would be right. But if it was the end of his night, then excited what for? Bed? Where he struggles to fall asleep? Nah, I don't think so.
So yeah, I think you know where I'm going with this.
Only that this time we didn't get a photo because there was no one around to buffer.
2019 JM flies back to Seoul to celebrate JK's birthday with him. 2020 JM was with JK on his birthday eve. 2021 we don't know, they didn't tell us, we got a selfie the next day in the safety of the company - not the two together alone at JK's or JM's. 2022 JM was also with JK on his birthday eve. We got to see and hear about it just after JK's birthday, and we had Jhope there as a buffer. Why buffer? So that god forbid they aren't spending his birthday eve alone at his place, especially if it's happening year after year after year, cause you know, people would say it means nothing but at the same time it means everything.
I'm going to say it out loud, and shoot me (not literally) if you wish, but this is a hill I am willing to die on. JK wrote his birthday message and very possibly was not planning to go live that night. Perhaps he did come live because of the photos that came out of him with the fans and the info about him being out and about that night. But for whatever reason JK did go live that night it was always going to be short and sweet. And I do believe that is because he had something else planned which is not going to sleep.
I do believe whatever he had planned was with JM. Period. That's what JK was anticipating, that's what he was excited and happy for, that's why he came for a couple of secs and jolted off.
And for those that are already running to the comments screaming "but JM said he only spoke with JK the day before his birthday to wish him happy birthday" I say: hold your horses, I will most definitley get to it and explain to y'all exactly how JM did not say that by no means. Take a breath, be patient, read on, you'll see why JM said no such thing.
The two of the men having the live the same day.
It kind of felt weird that of all days JM goes live on JK's birthday. Well, maybe weird isn't the right word, but curious is more fitting.
JM wanted to come live for some time now. He says that. But then why, of all days, choose this one?
JM himself tells us he wasn't planning to go live from home that day (while on his way to fetch the mood lamp to show us).
Both lives feel unplanned, rushed and unprepared. There. I said it.
Did either of them even plan to do these lives? Or, perhaps they were a consequence of circumstances? JK wanting to clarify his outing (knowing how this fandom rolls). And JM... why JM? Well, maybe there was actually a birthday live planned? Could that be? One at the company? Us finally getting a Jikook live? Or even just a proper JK live at the company with a cake and all? But JK's schedule ran later than expected maybe? Hence one boyfie coming to the rescue and going live in his stead?
All of the above is questions, queries, possible explanations as to why JM decided to go live from home on JK's birthday, even though he himself tells us this was not the plan. I don't have the answer to these questions, but it definitley does have me wondering.
Will continue this discussion with regards to JM later on in my post.
Let's get to talking about JM's live. Starting by his opening pic.
I have to tell you that first thought I had when seeing the photo was "is that JK?". The frame wasn't right, but the outfit most definitely was, lol.
And guess what?
He's wearing pants for the boys new favourite brand. I guess JM's the one wearing the pants in the house, lol. But then, are they his? They do seem a little on the bigger size.
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So, first 17 minutes or so to the live JM talks a bit about not coming live for a while and how he wanted and yet didn't because he's been going through a bit of a personal journey. Not doing well enough in his March promotions, in his mind, had him frustrated and unhappy with himself. Him wanting to restart rather than fix what he feels might be lacking. Kind of resetting himself per say as an artist? In any case he's been doing a lot of introspection. I guess I've mentioned that already, lol. The feeling I got from what he was telling us is that he himself didn't know how to explain what he wanted to tell us. His words not thoroughly thought out, perhaps another sign as to him going live unprepared and before properly thinking out what he wanted to tell us.
JM talks about being at the Dior event. Being nervous and awkward. Also wanting to thank fans that came to see him.
JM is asked multiple times about his hands. Oh my, those hands.
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And when I say multiple times, I mean MULTIPLE times, lol. And JM keeps reading those comments and keeps answering again and again and again that it's a scrape from him working out, doesn't hurt, not to worry. At one point, after he is talking about JK's birthday, telling us it's a wonderful day, lovely smile on his face, and asked yet again, he 'bites back' (if you can call if bite back, lol), telling the commenter to look for it later (as in go watch the live from the start when it's over and they will find out).
Is this the right time to discuss JM talking about JK's birthday?
I think it is.
At around the 18 minute stamp time this goes down:
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He says Jungkookie, btw.
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From the moment he said JK is very busy (he looks at the camera) and up to this point, when he talks about JK's health, not once does JM look at the camera. His eyes were all over the place. And that includes not looking at the camera when he said "I talked to him on the telephone yesterday too".
Remember this?
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@dgtn brought this to my attention. JM's eye movement in this part of the live reminds of his eye movement while thinking just before he goes for the kill with JK and the "did you answer them".
Here's JM talking about Jungkookie's birthday. Look at his eyes.
(But that smile at the end...)
JM was definitely deep in thought as to what to say, how to word what he wanted to say for JK's birthday.
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Several things to note.
Where to start?
I guess I'll start from the obvious.
People jumping on the wagon: "JM didn't see JK on his birthday. He said so. He said he talked to him yesterday...(to wish him happy birthday?)".
Me, I'm calling the bull.
And I will explain it to you too (foreshadowing).
JM, as usual, is very precise how he words what he wants to say.
His words in this instance:
He mentions JK's birthday today, tells us he's very busy and then says "I talked to him on the phone yesterday too..." and back to "he's really busy..."
"I talked to him on the phone yesterday too..."
Let's take this apart, why don't we?
JM spoke with JK on the phone.
The conversation happened yesterday.
What did they talk about? He doesn't tell us. But mentioning JK being busy before he talks about the phone call and after he talks about the phone call. It feels like this is what he is telling us they spoke about.
So far so good, right?
And then we have two words/things said/or not said that are EVERYTHING here.
One word that he says, the other something that is not said and, at least to me, is super loud and super important and was omitted purposefully.
First word is "too".
I talked to him yesterday too...
TOO.
Leaving the context of the sentence open to interpretation.
Could be any of these:
I talked to him yesterday too just like I speak to him every day?
I talked to him yesterday too because I spoke to him today as well?
I talked to him yesterday too because I was also seeing him later on as well to celebrate his birthday with him?
As for what was missing, well to me it was quite obvious.
JM does not tell us that he wished JK happy birthday.
There was no "I talked to him yesterday too and wished him happy birthday".
JM makes sure to tell us he spoke with JK yesterday (which is not on JK's birthday). Makes sure to add the TOO, but forgets to say that's also when he wished him happy birthday? I think not.
JM is super measured. He is so very careful in what he says and how he says it, especially when it comes to JK. This man not saying it means the words were added or omitted on purpose. And not telling us he wished JK happy birthday in that phone call, well, makes it clear that the phone call in question was definitley not the end of it. Because there is no way in hell that JM would not wish JK happy birthday personally (not via an IG post that JK wouldn't see anyway not being on IG).
Since when would JM not wish JK happy birthday? The man is telling us to wish JK happy birthday, telling us it's a wonderful day, setting his watch to JK's birth time. The man that flew back from Paris to be with JK on his birthday. And also let us know he did it. He wouldn't have wished JK happy birthday himself? And this man wouldn't tell us so either?
Nah. This is JM telling us he spoke with JK, something he does all the time, and that the conversation he's talking about has nothing to do with JK's birthday.
And yeah, by omitting that he's also letting us know that he had another opportunity, one he isn't letting us in on, in which he got to wish JK happy birthday.
PERIOD!
JM talking about JK looking after his health. The way those two worry about each other.
Did I mention the pause as JM finishes talking about JK? It being a wonderful day? The smile on his face?
Oh, and JK mentions JK's birthday once more at the end of the live as well when summing up the live.
Thank you JM for reminding us once more it's JK's birthday and that it was one of those things in your live worth mentioning in your own recap of the live.
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Now, I know that there are idiots that are dragging Mingyu for saying he met JK yesterday (on his birthday) and ate with him.
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Well, dragging Mingyu on the one hand for what? Saying he met up with his friend on his birthday? That by doing so he was dissing JM? And others, on the other hand, using this, very stupidly, to prove that a busy JK would rather meet up with Mingyu than with JM.
Are we forgetting what JM told us? Well, JK too? That JK is super busy? Most likely in the Hybe building. You know, where Mingyu also comes to work, being in Seventeen, another Hybe band. Could they have met up at Hybe? Of course they could have. Could they even maybe have met up for a meal break at Hybe? Of course they could have. Mingyu was doing the live in a company car, probably on his way home from work looking super tired. So yeah. Chances are that they met at Hybe.
And as for JM, well, you already know where I stand on that one.
JM and JK most definitely saw each other on JK's birthday. Most likely right after JK's live.
Ok, this one is getting a little too long. So I think I'll leave you all here at the moment, let it all sink in, and come back with a part 2 that will include our little house tour and a few more interesting points - well for me at least, lol.
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To be continued...
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thottybrucewayne · 5 months
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A LIST OF PEOPLE WHO ARE GOING TO HELL: 2024 EDITION
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Every zionist, duh, but esp yall who screenshot perfectly reasonable posts and go "Um, the look at this idiot who thinks genocide is wrong" yall make my ass itch and nobody takes you seriously, MOVE. 2. The entire U.S. government but esp Joe Biden that old ass man gettin spit roasted in hell (AND NOT THE FUN KIND!) 3. DIDDY AND EVERY SINGLE PERSON THAT PROTECTED AND DEFENDED HIM. 4. Tory Lanez whole family, his mama, his daddy, his dog? All them. 5. The nonblack people who run those Rap House Tv type blogs that are clearly trying to be shade room clones. 6. People who get all their news from the Shade Room and Whatsapp, sorry auntie, I'm sick of you tellin' me COVID can be cured by sticking cloves of garlic up my nose :/ 7. Every single one of you dirtbag leftist ass people, yall do nothing for nobody except you thousands of adoring "former nazi" fans that need to be told it's okay that they still say the n word in private. 8. N.O.R.E and every single hiphop "journalist" 9. Charlemagne Tha God and Dj Envy, they know why. 10. Everyone who made Ike and Tina jokes after Tina past away. Grow up. 11. You fanfic girlies. So many of y'all are seeing the lake of fire, But esp if you donate to ao3 or own ao3 merch. Like, that is just embarrassing. 12. It's 2024, If I see you coming up here saying shit like "Miku wroke harry potter!" or " Hello Kitty wrote Ofmed, actually" I'm sending you to hell myself. 13. Booktokers? This is yall the second year on this list, tighten the fuck up and stop being weird about strange men on the internet, now. 14. People who do LITERALLY NOTHING yet try to tell other people how to be activists. You contribute nothing to any conversation you're a part of, suck my dick from the back. 15. People who stopped masking because other people were making them feel bad. Fuck your mama not being able to see your smile, PEOPLE ARE DYING???? 16. Lana Del Ray and Taylor Swift. They know exactly what they did. 17. Every white girl on twt who tried to jump me cause I said the Barbie movie is white feminism at its finest. 18. Elon, you raggedy bitch. 19. Every single man who hit on me this year who isn't one of my friends. 20. People who don't know what transmisogyny means and make that everyone else's problem. I need yall to start reading so bad it's not even funny. 21. You "goth is a feeling" people. You gonna be "feeling" that hell fire nippin' at your ass, NEXT 22. You 35 defending fanservice of high schoolers in anime/manga all day every day...yeah, just get on down there, big fella. They waiting on you. 23. Cishet Black men on tiktok and twt who make it their life's mission to make an ass of themselves for minor ducats. You are a one-man modern-day minstrel show and you will be dealt with. 24. White Tyler The Creator fans. Y'all know what you do.
Dishonorable mentions: Shojo fans who never talk about the fucked up shit in the manga they recc you because "At least its not as misogynistic as shounen!" (yes, yes it is) Fashion tiktokkers I hate so many of you its not even funny Every person who put the image of T.D. Jakes getting his doonies beat down at a Diddy party in my mind. Like I literally never needed to think about that. My dad <3 and all my friends' dads. Patricide NOW!!!!! People who are still whining about having to boycott shut upppppp god damn. People who stare at me in public. You got a fuckin problem?????
That's a wrap! Here are the lists from last year and the year before feel free to add more in the tags <3
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cursedomain · 10 months
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When you get a minute, can you call me back?
You've been blessed by such a gentle boyfriend, one who sits and listens, cares, and validates everything you feel. He looked at you lovingly, his black eyes always showing some form of light when he looks at you.
You're insecure sometimes, he is such a stable boyfriend compared to past Exes, how could you deserve this? Suguru doesn't let you ponder those thoughts for long. He knows the face, the eyes, the tone, everything, when you start feeling insecure. He knows you well.
He left on a trip recently, it was a mission at a high school in a different area. You worry when he goes on these trips, worry about if he's okay, he calls you when he can but recently the calls have been shorter and sometimes only one a day rather than 3-4.
You were home alone during this time, you've been feeling off as of recent and you felt even worse being he wasn't there to talk with you. His voice was a soothing tone you had always felt calmer with just hearing it. It was your favorite sound along with classical music, specifically piano.
You wore a shirt of his, a grey long sleeve which was a bit tight, but it smelled like him. It made you content with everything going on. Your mind would run in circles, the same questions as you worried.
You heard a 'ping' come from your phone and picked it up, pausing your show. It was Satoru of all people. You guys became close because of Suguru, and since you two got along the three of you usually would frequent the bars by your college, sometimes karaoke bars too.
"So much work, these curses just love me, how could anyone not?" The tone was the usual Satoru. You laughed but, you still wish it was Suguru. You wondered why he had been so distant as of recent, but he was working and some days were worse than others. you had to understand this completely.
You laid back and stared at the ceiling, your feet hanging off the edge of the couch. You sighed, your show resumed, you were watching "Hidden Love" a Chinese drama, it was so pretty to you.
You smiled at the cheesy lines, hours passed and you were so invested in the show you missed your phone buzzing more and more. Soon, it was dark outside and you made it to episode 13. Your mind drifted to Suguru, you tried to stay busy but now he was all you thought of. You opened your phone and your heart dropped.
There was 10 missed calls and 20 texts collectively between the duo. You quickly read the messages, Satoru finished early and helped Sugu, they would be home at 10 pm they said, but that was hours ago, it was now 9:30.
Suguru's last message was "When you get a minute, call me back." Before you heard a knock on the door and to your surprise, it was Suguru, holding flowers and your favorite take out.
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arteastica · 9 months
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early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (10)
erwin x fem!reader
chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27)
summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)
notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?
content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)
wc: 2.3k
The holidays had always been your favorite time of the year. You never waited for the first snowfall in order to start daydreaming about generously spiced cookies and thick, melted chocolate. When it came to fantasizing about buttery batters rich in raisins, and biscuits dusted with brown sugar and cinnamon, you were always months ahead everyone you knew.
But the holidays weren’t just about desserts. You also craved the savory dishes your mother laid out on the dinner table, and the equally warm conversations that always came along with them. You craved the familiar sight of your parents sitting by the fire, your father, indulging in his favorite book, and your mother, in a steaming cup of chocolate. You always kept them company, from your favorite spot by the window, where the sight was just as comforting and homey. You enjoyed looking at the white, thick blanket that covered the narrow streets, and the yellow lights that glowed through the neighboring windows. You liked to think that inside those houses people were also enjoying good food and a good laugh in good company.
Everything about the winter holidays was warm and homemade, and that’s exactly why you had never spent a single one away from home. Even during the three years you lived at the training camp, you always made sure to be back home with your family by the time the holidays rolled around. And this year would be no different.
And so, for weeks now, you had been counting the days, as it was tradition. Only that this year, it had felt more like a back-to-school countdown than anything else. ‘Anxiety’ and ‘reluctance’ had replaced ‘anticipation’, in both the sentences you wrote in your journal every night, as well as in your mind. However, you weren’t surprised. Not when the obvious reason was on the other side of the door you were about to knock on.
You lifted a hand and gave the hardwood a couple of tentative taps. He told you there was no need to announce yourself before coming in, but it was already way past working hours, and you weren’t sure he would still be awake.
When you heard his familiar voice, your heart lightened a little. Leaving without seeing him, at least one more time, would be as ridiculous as going to the doctor and leaving before receiving treatment.
You pushed the door open and, as soon as he saw you, he rose from the couch he had been lounging on. If the swiftness of his movement and the tentative smile now present on his lips were anything to go by, he was just as surprised to see you as you were to find him wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a white shirt, partially unbuttoned.
Your nails dug deep into your own skin, all while wishing it was his instead. His bolo tie was discarded on a nearby table, and so were the straps of his gear. The flames dancing in the fireplace behind him, and the steam coming from the mug placed beside the chess board, made it feel as if you were stepping into something intimate and personal. What you had before you, was a sight deserving of a dozen diary entries, and you knew you would write them once you were back home. For now, and for the sake of your own sanity you decided to focus your attention strictly on his eyes instead.
“Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt you, commander, but I’ll be leaving first thing in the morning and…” Your nails buried deeper into your flesh, as if testing to see if you had the courage to say it. “I wanted to see you before that.”
You stared directly into his eyes. There was a certain boldness that only became available to you once darkness descended, a certain notion that whatever impulsive actions were committed under the moon didn’t really matter, because their consequences would reset come morning anyway. That’s why ghosts waited for the sun to leave in order to haunt forests, and so did the howling of wolves. And maybe that was also the reason why your honesty didn’t exactly bother you. Your feet had brought you there to see him. There were no papers he needed to sign, no questions you needed to ask, no tea or cookies you wanted to bring him. No tricks or excuses up your sleeve. He was the only purpose of your visit.
“I’ll confess your absence has me worried already.” He started making his way to you as a playful smile graced his lips. “I don’t know what I’ll do without those butter biscuits and hot tea in the afternoon, but,” you couldn’t help but notice that the innocent crinkle in his eyes didn’t match the picture his exposed collarbones and prominent Adam’s apple were painting, “I’ll try to survive without you.”
Me too. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be just fine without me, commander.” Now that he was close enough, you noticed he smelled like all your favorite spices, and the tinge of cherry on his lips told you it was probably mulled wine in his mug.
“That’s debatable.” His voice sounded several octaves lower than usual, and you didn’t need to time travel to know that you would be missing it for the upcoming weeks. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“Go ahead.” You replied, happy to cling on to anything that would help you put off your departure.
“That night, at your doorstep. What was it that you wanted to tell me?”
His eyes were so different in moments like these, when it was just the two of you. It was as if the 13th commander of the Survey Corps was gone, and the only one left in his place was Erwin Smith, the blond man who loved chess, boring history books, and sweet afternoon treats. The owner of those distinctive eyebrows and those sapphire eyes that, right now, were drilling into you, all your emotional walls and reservations, with such piercing vulnerability. If it were anyone else you would drop your gaze, but with him, you were drawn closer instead.
“So much.” You took a deep breath, the type that usually precedes a long speech or a lengthy confession. “For one, I don’t understand why everyone here likes ale so much, and I have no idea how ODM gear works either.” As the words left your mouth, your feet diligently worked on closing the distance between your bodies. “I think I cheated on a test once, and performed so poorly on my physical examinations I almost failed all of them.” His lips twitched slightly, as if wanting to form a smile but stopping halfway in fear of interrupting the flow of your ideas. “I cry at least once a month, especially when I’m bored.” And in that moment, boredom seemed such a foreign and absurd concept, because how was it possible for anyone to be bored when the world had such wonderful views to offer, like his shirt and the way it clung to his body, for example. The fabric was close enough to show the shape of his chest, and unbuttoned enough to unveil skin generously sprinkled with light brown hair. “I’m completely clueless when it comes to chess and I hate to think that I will never be able to impress you in a game.” In such intimate space, the air was even more infused with his cologne, making it all the more difficult to breathe. “I spend too much time in my head, overthinking everything. But oddly enough, the only thing I can never think too much about is you. It is never enough.” Your fingers found his hand at the same moment his eyes found your lips. “Commander, nobody thinks about you as much as I do.” You interlaced your fingers with his. “Not while doing the things I do.”
For a while, the snapping of firewood was the only thing breaking the silence of the night, as he stared into your eyes, and his hand held yours firmly. But then his lips parted slightly.
“Well, for one, you don’t need chess to impress me.” With his other hand, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek. “I can’t guarantee I can make boredom disappear, but I’d be delighted to give it a try whenever you need me to.” His thumb stroked your skin lovingly, and his gaze, his touch, as well as his words, all felt like the warmest of cardigans. “There are many young men here thinking about my assistant the way I do. I’ve seen how their eyes follow her, how they linger on her. And I know that look all too well myself.” You could almost feel the rising and falling of his chest against you, and you wondered where had all the oxygen in the room gone. “But I must admit it satisfies me to know they don’t get to have her as close as I do everyday, and especially not as close as I do right now.” His thumb caressed your bottom lip softly, the same kind of gentle squeeze farmers give peaches when trying to tell if they are ripe enough. “Sweet, we like ale because it’s sweet, and also quite nutritious. And on that note, I would explain more about that, as well as how the ODM gear works, but that would take too long, and I really want to kiss you right now.”
You knew that sensation. You had felt it before. It used to happen quite often when you were a child, around this same time of the year. When you woke up, and ran downstairs to find all the presents you had been waiting a whole year for, all of them beautifully wrapped. Excitement filling you up completely and seeping through your lips as you smiled. As you smiled in anticipation of the wonderful time you had ahead.
“But, commander, I thought chess helped you stay away from impulsive decisions.” You used a playful tone to match the beaming grin you were now wearing, as you signaled to the chess board he had been giving all his attention to before you stepped into the room.
“This is anything but impulsive.” He assured you before finally closing the distance between your lips. And you were glad his arms were around you, holding you tightly, because there was no way your legs could, not anymore. Not when his lips were finally moving against yours.
It was mulled wine in his mug, for sure. He tasted like cinnamon and anise, like oranges and honey, spiced with a little bit of brandy. It felt like a summer, a wonderful one, spent under lemon trees; like a rogue spring night in late July. His kiss was smoky, mixing in with the smell of burnt wood and the sweetness of his cologne. His lips were soft, and so was his bristly chin, rubbing against your skin. And you decided this was your new favorite sensation.
His lips moved slowly and gently against yours. He kissed you like this was the only chance he had, like he would never get to do it again, almost as if you were a character in some dream he would soon wake up from. His lips and his hands confirmed in their soft, silent way that this hadn’t been impulsive at all.
His tongue, or rather the sudden appearance of it, elicited a moan, that made you feel as if you were whispering in a library. There were rooms nearby, and in the quiet of the night you knew any sound you made would be magnified, but you couldn’t help yourself, not when his tongue was drawing such delicious patterns inside your mouth. Oh his tongue, turns out it was just as skilled at kissing as it was at forming words.
You didn’t know how long you had been kissing him. It could be a minute or ten or even a century. You didn’t really care. And even though your lips were starting to feel sore, you had no intentions of stopping. Your palms were resting on the toned muscles of his chest, as the slow movements of his tongue patiently unraveled what little remained of your self-control. And whatever little remained was finally lost when his big, curious hands ventured a little beyond the small of your back, making you moan again. Loudly, this time. The same kind of sound you would make when biting into a juicy peach on a scorching summer day. And it all made you aware of the painful discomfort present between your legs. It was hurting like never before. It hurt from thinking about him, naked, hovering over you, strands of gold sticking to his forehead. And most importantly, it hurt from craving to be filled up by him.
And so, despite feeling like you could kiss him forever, you pulled away slowly. He was looking at you through heavy eyelids, his lips were red, a little swollen, and glistening with your saliva. You smiled at your work, the same type of smile artists give their sculptures once they’re finished. And you couldn’t help but think about how wrong you had been on that day in the forest: you didn’t want to fuck him, you wanted to make love with him.
“Commander, touch me.” Your words didn’t seem to register with him, because all he did was staring at your eyes. So you decided to guide his hand under your skirt, and between your legs, where you needed him the most. “I want you to touch me right here.”
“I’m not sure I should.” He said before pulling his hand away.
-
next chapter
taglist: @elnyrae @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis
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lizzieislife94x · 4 months
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My Brothers Babysitter (e.o)
Requested <3
 LizziexFem Reader 
GirlxGirl 
Y/ns POV:
I quickly run down stairs grabbing a slice of toast shoving it in my mouth mumbling "fuck I'm late" my mom and 4 year old brother look at me "language young lady it's OK slow down rushing won't solve it youre already late" I take a second and completely agree with her I eat my toast and have some coffee as I walk over and kiss my mom on the cheek hugging her as lizzie walks in bright eyed and bushy tailed I walk over and kiss Jay on the head "ill see you tonight little buddy" I take a second to admire lizzie she's been my brothers Babysitter for the last 6 months and Ihave a massive crush on her she's just so freaking perfect "morning lizzie" I say with a smile as I walk past "morning y/n wasn't expecting to see you I thought you started work at 8 it's almost 9" I laugh and look back at her "I over slept so I'm late" she giggles and shakes her head as I leave for work.
I climb into my car thankful that works done its 6pm and its been a long ass day I quickly drive home to take over looking after Jay mom doesn't get home till 9 tonight so I said I'll look after him after work I hope lizzie stays to hang out I love it when she does I get to spend some time with her, before I know it I pull up outside of my house and grab my bag and phone and head inside "hey guys I'm home" I say putting my bag on the floor and kicking my shoes off walking into the livingroom Jay runs to me screaming my name excitedly making me smile "did you miss me buddy I missed you so much" I say with a smile kissing his cheeks "yes yes I missed you so much! Did you bring me candy" I smirk and grab a candy bar from my bag and hand it to him as I put him down he runs away excited "what about you lizzie did you miss me" I say with a smirk flirting a little she matches my energy biting her lip, fuck "mhh I did I missed you so much" she walks towards me slowly making me freeze "did you miss me" she stares at me with those piercing green eyes for a second before laughing, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and laugh along with her we spent the rest of night hanging watching movies with Jay.
3 days later: 
"Y/n sweetie lizzie is going to watch Jay until 5pm but I need to take him for new shoes so you don't have to rush home I'm thinking of taking him out to the park and maybe Mcdonalds and ice cream so we won't be back till late" I swallow my toast and take a sip of coffee before speaking "ok that's fine mom but I really have to go I have 20 minutes to get to work, I love you BYEEE JAY SEE YOU TONIGHT BUDDY" and with that I run out to my car heading to work.
I sit in my car for a few minutes before I head inside I've not had a few hours alone in so long I can't wait I grab my bag and phone and head inside putting my bag down and kicking my shoes off I take a second to appreciate the silence after 30 seconds I hear a moan like sound I follow it upstairs to my room and look confused I'm here so who the fuck is fucking in my room "oh god y/n yes yes right there baby oh fuck" my mouth drops as I recognise lizzies voice is she no she can't be Holy shit I feel the fluttery feeling starting as my panties start to fill with my own wetness I press my ear to the door listen to her moans as I slide my hand in my panties I gently rub my clit as my head falls against the door making a little dink but I don't notice I slide my fingers down to my entrance pushing them in moaning lizzies name quietly as I start to thrust "oh god yes mmmh fuck" I moan quietly as the door swings open and I'm met by a smirking lizzie with lust fill eyes "I knew you where listening to me perv" I slide my hand out face turning bright red before it hits me I shouldn't be embarrassed she was fingerings herself on my bed in my room "um I think you'll find you where in my room in my bed fingering yourself thinking about me" I say boldy as she bites her lip and pulls me into the room slamming me against the wall as her hand slides into my pants and panties making me moan "if you don't want this tell me baby ill stop I just can't hold back any longer" she breaths out clearly turned on as she stares into my eyes I smash our lips together confirming I want this she instantly slides 2 fingers inside me making my eyes roll "oh yes lizzie don't stop" I moan as I grind my hips to meet her thrusts as she licks her lips thrusting her fingers faster I let my hands slide up her tee towards her tits groaning when I feel she has no bra I feel her thrusting her fingers faster as she curls them driving me wild I grip her tits and roll her nipples between my fingers as she let's out the sexiest moan I've ever heard "mmmh y/n" I bite my lip as I feel my orgasm approach "gonna cum oh god" I feel my legs trembling "cum for me babygirl" I feel my orgasm crashing over me as I cum all over her fingers and hand "mmhhh good girl my good girl" she grins pecking my lips before sliding her hands out bringing them to her lips her eyes never leaving mine "you taste amazing" I bite my lip as I grab the hem of her tee pulling it off finally getting to see her perfect tits "oh god"
I moan as I lean down taking her left nipple in my mouth as she grips my hair moaning while I suck her nipple I make quick work pushing her shorts and panties off as she starts taking my pants off in matter of seconds we're both naked I step back to admire her before stepping forward kissing her passionately both of us stumbling back falling onto the bed I start to kiss my way down her body desperately needing to get to her cunt after leaving a few kisses on her stomach I put her legs over my shoulder staring at how wet she is as a groan leaves my lips I leave gentle kisses on her clit as she moans a little "don't tease me y/n ive waited 6 god damn months" her tone is such a turn on I do as she says and lick from her entrance to her clit taking it into my mouth sucking harshly as a loud moan escapes her lips she grabs my hair making me moan Into her cunt causing her to moan louder after I work on her sensitive clit for a minute I slide my tounge down to her entrance pushing it inside her enjoying the taste of her "oh god y/n fuck me shit don't stop right there!" She pants her body starting to squirm as I work my tounge deeper and faster inside her before I know it shes squirting all over my face taking me by surprise I sit up her juices drenched all over my face she hides her face before I remove her hands "that was the sexiest thing I've ever experienced I was just taken back its never happened before but fuck me I want to make that happen every fucking day" I say passionately as I run my hands up her body to cup her cheeks I lean down kissing her passionately as our tounges explore one and others mouths I use my legs to push her legs open nice and wide as I position myself ontop of her without breaking the kiss I pull away when our dripping cunts touch as the feeling is almost enough to send me over the edge "oh fuck lizzie"
I say looking down at her as she moans throwing her head back I start to thrust our clits rubbing together perfectly both of us moaning at the sensation I quicken my pace as I feel my orgasm approaching quickly lizzie scratches my thighs as I grind into her harder it doesn't take long for both of us to cum against the others pussy I fall on top of her gently as she wraps her arms around me both our breathing out of control "Honey were home!!!" I hear my mom yell as we both look at eachother and jump up getting ready in seconds both of us knowing fine well Jay will come running right in "y/n!!!" He yells bursting through the door jumping into my arms he looks at lizzie confused for a second before hugging her too "we bought you nugg" my mom stops in her tracks "maybe open a window next time" she says with a smirk looking at me and lizzie, lizzie hides her face in my back making me laugh "it's about time you two realised, Jay come on honey let's go get you ready for bed I think y/n and lizzie would rather be alone right now, don't worry sweetie ill get you a lock for your bedroom door tomorrow" I hide my face as I feel it burning red "ok mom thank you can you leave us for now please " I beg as she laughs shutting the door I turn to face lizzie "I'm so sorry" I say embarrassed as she bursts out laughing "it's OK babe at least tomorrow we'll have a lock" I look at her shocked "wait this is happening again?" She bites her lip and nods "definitely I've never felt that good in my life plus I've had the biggest crush on you for months litterly when we met i knew i wanted you" I smile and pull her in for a kiss full of love and happiness both us smiling into the kiss. 
AN: hope yall enjoy it I might do one more one shot tonight, all feedback welcome and again thanks to my regular peeps for voting on these it means alot it let's me know I'm doing something right and you guys like them 😊 word count 1.8k stay hydrated babes 
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kookieminsuga · 5 months
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The Wolf and his Coyote - Part 4
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Part 4! Things are starting to look up!
Summary; Jungkook is the leader of the biggest biker gang in Korea. He is never interested in people unless they can benefit him in some way. That is until he runs into a girl who is the only person who appears to not be afraid of him. New to Korea, Amalia is an artist who spends most of her days working on her comics at her friend Minhyuks diner who also happens to be Jungkooks favourite hang out spot. What will happen when Jungkooks, a man who's heart seems to be frozen in ice, interest is peeked for the first time since he can remember?
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4
Pairing: Gang leader jk x Tsundere, artist Amalia
Rating: 18+ do not interact if you are a minor!
Word count: 2.3k
Genre: Biker gang bts, action, romance, there will be smut down the line, angst, violence, humour.
Warnings: potential triggers, signs of trauma, Jungkook is SMITTEN, mentions of past, motorcycle ride, voice raising, arguing.
Amalias pov:
The roaring sound of engines cut through my thoughts, effectively snapping me out of my hyper fixated state. I look out the window to my right and notice 6 guys on motorcycles pull up. As they take off their helmets one by one, I notice it’s the guys from yesterday. Jungkooks gang. I guess this is the end of my peaceful day. 
Well, it had been very peaceful apart from the moment he decided to come talk to me. I still don’t know what he wants with me. I wish he would just stay away. At least he’s not too pushy. Like him.
I shake my head, not letting those thoughts creep up on me. You’re safe Amalia. It’s all in the past now.
The doors to the diner fly open as one by one those guys start piling in. Starting with one handsome man, black, long hair, cat like eyes, resting bitch face. He looks around the restaurant for his “owner” I assume. His eyes land on me as I look at him and he snickers before walking towards the other side of the restaurant as he spots Jungkook. 
What was that? Anyways, it’s time for me to go. I start packing my tablet and research materials back into my bag. I finish my cup of tea that Min had brought me earlier and get up to let him know I’m leaving. 
The restaurant is pretty busy for dinner time so I just manage a wave as I step out and head towards my bus stop. The bus arrives not too long after that and I start my commute home. 
The route is pretty long. I start with one bus, then a train and another bus. It’s better than sitting at home by myself all day tho, so it’s worth it. I read a book with my headphones on as per usual. About 20 minutes later, I arrive at the train station. As I wait for my train, I hear an announcement being made so I move my headphones to the side to listen.
“Train towards blue lines are all cancelled for the day due to technical issues, sorry for the inconvenience.”
Oh, well hell. I start to think of other ways to get home. A taxi would cost way too much from here for my broke butt. It’s too far to walk as well. I wonder if there’s other buses that lead close enough. 
I start to walk towards the street, where all the buses are and scan the signs to see where they went. Ah, there is a bus that leads close to the other bus I have to take, however it only comes every hour. I look at the time and, of course, the last one left 6 minutes ago. I guess I’ll be waiting here for a while. 
I sit at the stop by the street and take my book out again, getting ready for this long hour. 
Jungkooks pov:
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I wave at my group before heading off on my bike. 
The breeze hits my body as I zigzag through the streets of Seoul. As I drive, there only one thing going through my mind. “She hates your type”. My type. What is my type? According to Minhyuk I have become self absorbed. It shows that he doesn’t know me like he used to. Although the boy he knew is now dead and gone, I still don’t really know the man I have become. All I know is the hatred I feel towards him.
I shake my head, attempting to shake off these negative thoughts and feelings, heading towards my usual patrol. 
As I pass by the train station, I notice something that makes me instantly turn my bike around. Is that..?
I make my way back to the bus stop where a girl is resting her head on the side of the bus stop, sat on the bench with a book in her lap. As I approach her, I notice that it is indeed her. The girl from the diner. Minhyuks friend.
I park my bike in front of the stop, there being barely any cars that pass at this time, and walk up to her sleeping form. I look at her for a minute and she doesn’t even flinch. I kneel down in front of her and look over her features. Long lashes, small but plump lips and a beauty mark right below her left eye. 
She really is nothing special.
Then, her eyes suddenly shoot open, dropping the book in her hand and letting out a scream. 
“Hey hey, it’s just me.” I say, still on one knee before her. 
I take my helmet off so she can see me more clearly.
She looks down at me and then at her surroundings as if analyzing the situation. 
“Wha- what time is it? Why is it dark? Why are you here?” She says as she pulls out her phone and checks the time.
“Oh no! I missed the last bus!” She gets up frantically looking around.
I take my time standing and take a guess as to what had happened.
“Well considering you left the diner quite a while ago, I’m guessing you fell asleep here waiting for your bus until now, did you not? As for why I’m here, I was just driving by when I noticed you and just had to come say hello.” I say with a smile.
“Way to state the obvious.” She says as she rolls her eyes and sits back down.
She appears to be thinking, and as she said she missed her last bus, I guess she doesn’t have a way home.
I roll my eyes right back at her before heading to my bike. I feel her eyes on the back of my head. I lift the seat, pull out my spare helmet and turn back to give it to her.
“Here, I’ll take you home.” I say.
“Why would I trust a stranger with my address?” She says crossing her arms and legs and looking down.
“Oh so you don’t trust me with your address but you trust everyone else enough to fall asleep at a public bus stop?” I say, raising my voice.
I could see her visibly flinch as I did. 
“Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do? You don’t even know me!” She says, visibly upset.
I sigh and take a deep breath. Arguing with her will get us nowhere.
“Look, I’m sorry I raised my voice. I know you’re new to town, but this area is very unsafe. Especially for woman. So when I saw you sleeping here without a care in the world for your safety I..” I cut myself off.
“You what?” She asks, turning to look at me in the eyes for the first time. 
“I know you probably won’t believe me considering what Minhyuk has probably said about me, but I’m not a bad guy. I care about him a lot and you’re his friend. So no harm will come to you around me, ok?” I say truthfully, avoiding what I was going to say before.
She continues to sit there and stares at me. I see the gears shifting behind her scared eyes that she tried to pass off as anger.
“Fine then, you can stay here.” I say as I turn to place the helmet back in my bike. 
Then I feel a tug at my back. It takes me a moment, but I turn to see her looking at the floor with her hand grasping the hem of my leather jacket.
“I’m sorry. I just.. I..” She stuttered. I could tell she was trying to say something very difficult for her.
“Its ok, you don’t have to tell me.” I said gently.
She nods and I turn to hand her the helmet. She takes it and puts it on like she already knows how.
“Have you ever been on a bike before?” I ask.
“I have. I can drive one too.” She says matter of factly.
My eyes grow wide as I stare at her in shock.
“What? Is it that shocking? Is it because I’m a woman?” She says crossing her arms and staring me down.
“No, I just… I didn’t expect it.” I say while sheepishly rubbing the back of my neck. I quickly put on my helmet. Why does my face feel warm?
I get on my bike and look towards her. She still seems unsure, looking down and fidgeting with her hands.
“Common, I don’t bite.” I say, reaching my hand out towards her.
She looks at my hand for a few seconds before reaching out and taking it in hers. 
My heart skips when our skin touches. What was that? Get a hold of yourself Jungkook.
She then comes closer and throws her leg over, taking a seat behind me. I feel her trying to push back and turn my head to see her grab a hold of the bars on the back.
I sigh in frustration.
“Just hold onto me please? It’s much safer that way.” I say revving my engine.
“Are you sure?” She says shyly.
This girl goes from shy to attitude to shy in an instant huh?
I smile, “Yes I’m sure.” I reach back and wrap her hands around my waist.
With her front pressed against my back, I head off in the direction of her home.
As we drive through the streets, I feel her looking around as if my hometown is all new to her. I hear her little gasps as we come into view of beautiful sceneries. I could feel her loosen and tighten her grip on me as we turn and speed up and slow down. It’s funny, I usually don’t like people riding behind me but I don’t mind it with her. She’s not purposely trying to grab a feel as she holds onto me, like the other girls I’ve taken for rides passing it off as just holding on for safety, no she’s different. She keeps her hands tied together across my stomach and doesn’t move them an inch. 
We approach her street and I come to a full stop. Strangely, I feel slightly upset at having arrived already. She gets off first and then I do the same, kicking the stand up to park. I turn to see she has already taken off her helmet and has the widest smile on her face.
Woah. What a beautiful smile.. 
What was I just thinking? Snap out of it! Luckily, my helmet was still on.
Her hair blows in the breeze as she looks at me.
“Thank you for the ride home. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a motorcycle, I forgot how great it feels. Oh and I’m sorry I was so rude.” She says while fiddling with her fingers.
I take my helmet off and give her a smile. 
“Don’t worry about it. It’s good that you don’t easily trust people. That intuition will keep you safe around these parts.” I say genuinely.
All of a sudden her eyebrows furrow as if she just thought of something.
“Wait.. I never gave you my address. How did you know where I live?” She says while taking a step back.
Oh right. She still doesn’t know I was there that night.
“Yeah about that, I mean, I didn’t want to just say I know where you live. Probably would have sounded creepy at the time.” 
“Well it’s sure creepy now, so can you answer my question?” She says with her hands on her hips. 
I guess the attitude is back.
I laugh at her ever changing personality, which for some reason, I find adorable.
“The truth is, these are the streets I usually patrol at this time a night. I don’t know what Minhyuk has told you, but my gang is not like the usual gang. We like to watch over our city and keep the innocents safe.” She just stands there looking at me as if urging me to continue. So I do.
“One night, I was patrolling as I usually do, when I crossed by this alley and saw a man following a girl. I was about to step in when suddenly, this girl turned and smacked the guy in the balls with her bag.” I laugh at that last part, still finding it funny.
I see her eyes light up in recognition. 
“Oh! You were there that night? I did find it odd that he didn’t try to follow me.” She pondered with her hand on her chin.
“Yeah, don’t worry, he won’t be following you again.” I smirk.
She stares me down. 
“What?” I ask.
“You didn’t kill him, did you?” She says.
I look at her, my eyes then turning serious.
“I don’t kill people. Not unless I have to. It’s not my place to take lives.” I say stuffing my hands in my pockets. 
Although the question stings, I do understand why she would ask. I am the head of a gang after all. It’s true that I don’t like to kill people, but it would be a lie to say I never have. 
“Ok well, thanks again for the ride.’ She pauses,’ and for protecting me that night I guess.” She says, looking up at me.
She hands over the helmet.
“You’re welcome.” I look down at her smiling softly. 
“Have a good night.” She simply says as she starts walking down the alley towards her home.
“Hey!” I say before she reaches her door.
She turns and looks at me with a questioning raised eyebrow.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
She looks at me for a moment before answering.
“It’s Amalia, but you can call me Lia. Consider that an honour.” With that, she turns and heads inside.
I can't help but laugh at her last comment.
Amalia.. that’s a different name. I like the sound of it.
I start walking down the street, beginning my patrol. Unable to wipe this stupid smile off my face.
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cher-rei · 3 months
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afterglow- pt.7 [ T.A.A ]
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pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader
summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter is privileged with working alongside the liverpool fc marketing and public relations team, while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.
genre(s): friends to lovers, workplace romance, fluff
[wc: 4.6k] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 8]
notes: it's the way that I've hinted at another fic in this chapter and then another one in chapter 8... I love interconnecting my series' ughhh
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spamjam._. added to their story!
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"here's one for you," jude spoke from his position on the hotel suite couch to gain your attention as you unpacked your things. "bro went from liking her posts to flying her over just for some moral support."
you rolled your eyes as he read out the tweets which he had been enjoying for the past ten minutes now. the way that twitter was rioting over the situation was utterly amusing— from your post on Instagram to jude stating that you were sharing a hotel room. they were having a blast by coming up with theories as to how this even came about.
yes, jude only happened to follow you on instragram at the beginning of the year but that was not the reason you knew each other at all. if it were then this situation would be very awkward. as he would say, "luckily for you, you had the privilege of knowing me before I became the equivalent to ryan gosling."
you wouldn't exactly call it a privilege but whatever made him sleep at night. funny enough, you two met at a football match when you were still in high school. it was strange to see a 17-year-old actively engage in conversation with some random 14-year-old just because he said she was screaming too much.
that wasn't the last of your accidental meetings, however, the next was a few weeks later when your parents invited some friends over from birmingham— and lo and behold who just happened to be the son of those friends.
so here you were at 20 and 23, closer than ever but keeping it as low-key as possible.
you proceeded to listen to jude comment on each tweet, each one funnier than the last. "I swear some of these people have got to be fbi trained." he shook his head and you hummed in response, nearly jumping up when jude yelled out in shock.
"listen to this one," he turned from his position on the couch to look at you in front of the bed. "in early 2023, jude followed jamie back on Instagram and 6 months later she got her job as liverpool's p.r manager. hours later after the announcement the entire squad followed her back, the first of them being trent. jamie and trent have been seen together a lot from then on and she's even tagged him in multiple of her Instagram stories. now what do we know about trent? he plays for england. who else plays for england? jude. where is jamie right now? in barcelona with jude."
you were left dumbfounded, jude staring at you with his eyes wide and obviously impressed. "well that's one way to connect the dots I guess." you shrugged your shoulders, "they're not wrong but they're not quite right either."
a scoff left jude's mouth and he got up from the couch to look out the ceiling-to-floor window looking out at the city. "trent's not the middleman here though. like dude you and I aren't dating so there's no need."
he was right, there was no need for a middleman. it was just pure coincidence but obviously people wouldn't think of it like that. "and I thank the lord for that every single day."
he pulled a face, "stop being dramatic. I'm not that bad and you know it."
you hummed out in debate, getting your things so you could go and shower. "I mean judging by your lack of female interaction--"
before you could finish a pillow was hurled straight at you causing you to yelp out, getting ready to days for the bathroom before he could throw another.
"I talk to woman!" he yelled out after you and you laughed a little louder than intended which prompted him to get another pillow.
"female reporters don't count jude!"
you slammed the bathroom door shut just as he threw the pillow again, a loud thud echoing through the room before it dropped to the floor along with jude's hands. he huffed out in frustration, complaining for a good few minutes before he came to a conclusion that made you double over in laughter.
"just for that, I'll be keeping my eye out for interns from now on! if I marry a reporter one day I'll make sure not to invite you just out spite!"
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your first morning in barcelona consisted of nothing but peace. the view you woke up to was breathtaking, definitely the most beautiful sunrise you had ever seen. you took your time getting ready before breakfast and made sure to put together the best outfit you could manage seeing as it was rare that you got to wear summer attire.
jude shot you the most confused look to date when he saw your top. he hit you with the "woman stopped wearing corsets decades ago so I'm a bit confused as to why you're torturing yourself right now."
it took a bit to explain to him that you weren't suffering at all, but he still didn't understand and left it at that so the two of you could head to a restaurant for breakfast. every step you took your eye was caught by something more beautiful than the last, your heart strings tugging in the summer heat.
"I've made up my mind. I'm coming to visit you every three months."
jude didn't oppose the idea and instead encouraged it, saying that he needed a bit more company. everything was recorded, you had your phone out and your camera for double the footage, talking to the camera as you carried on with your day.
"do you really have to film everything?" jude asked from across your table at the outdoor seating area of the restaurant as you waited for your breakfast.
you made a sound at the back of your throat and continued to go through the footage you had so far. "unlike you, I have a social media presence and people enjoy the content that I put out okay?"
"uh huh." his eyes wandered over you silently until he was told to check your instagram story, and of course he reposted it being the absolutely amazing friend he was and not because he was in any way forced to do it...
spamjam._. added to their story!
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"I don't think anyone understands how crazy it is to hear jude speak in spanish so casually." you turned your camera to look at jude opposite you, adorning an expression of offence.
you suppressed a smile. "this is the same boy who asked me if 'lethargic' was an actual word or if I made it up by the way."
that hit a nerve for him and he put down his fork, and pointed a finger at you while explaining the pointlessness of the word and just how stupid it was. "who uses the word lethargic jamie?" he raised his hands waiting for an answer.
your laugh could be heard behind the camera, obvious judgement in your tone as you teased him. "people who have a vocabulary level that exceeds year 6."
jude shot you an 'oh really look' clearly not buying your reasoning. "just say that you're tired," he grew a bit more defensive and you tried to speak over him but he continued on. "it's never that deep."
you laughed again, telling him that he literally just proved your point. you could feel the stares that you were getting from people passing by— just trying to enjoy their peaceful thursday morning without two idiots arguing about words.
the banter went on for a bit, the camera now set on the edge of the table so that both you and jude were in the frame, tension heightened as you debated. he shrugged his shoulders eventually, "lethargic is not that big of a word either. it's just unnecessary--"
your eyebrows raised, "--oh really?"
he nodded in confirmation, as to say that it was obvious and that he wasn't an idiot. so you did the only correct thing at the moment which brought a wave of nostalgia to wash over jude who couldn't help but laugh.
"spell lethargic then."
he hesitated for a moment, wondering if you were being serious. "go on then, prove me wrong." you urged him, and obviously, he took up the challenge because jude bellingham was not a quitter.
"L I--"
you cut him off with a proud smile, "wrong!"
"L A--"
"wrong!"
by now jude was dumbfounded, immediately reaching out for his cellphone to google the absurd word only to find out that it was spelt with an E. you hummed happily as he complained once again, saying that spelling it with an E didn't make any sense.
"jude victor william bellingham," you began with a smile and he shook his head. "one of real madrid and england's star players at the age of 20 yet he can't spell 'lethargic'."
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the rest of the day played out smoothly— sightseeing, shopping till jude's entire backseat was covered in bags, a trip to the beach and using jude as your personal photographer and videographer. now that was what you called a vacation.
the last stop the two of you were going to make would be a small picnic to wrap up the evening seeing as jude would be at practice all-day tomorrow before the match later that evening. either way you wouldn't be alone because jobe would be flying down the morning, so you were more than excited to pick him up at the airport.
your picnic blanket was set down on the grass at a park, and once again the scenery had you gawking. the sunset was to die for, the atmosphere was chirpy yet peaceful and in all honesty if this was your last moment alive you wouldn't have any regrets.
you let out a content sigh, "if this is what being a wag is like then I might have to hit up victoria beckham for some pointers."
jude let out a laugh from beside you, watching silently as you pointed your vlog camera to the sky— moving it from side to side as you took in the scenery.
"I mean you have some good candidates, and you're already in the industry so it's just up to you." he nudged you on the shoulder. "make the move jamie."
a sigh escaped your lips at the fact that he was right. everything was played out in your favour and you needed to use it to your advantage. "I'll dm colwill when we get back to the hotel."
jude doubled over in laughter at your comment but you kept your attention on your camera, settling it down in front of the both of you. "he's younger than you."
you shrugged your shoulders to dismiss his note. "age is just a number or something."
that made you both smile but for two completely different reasons. jude found it funny whereas you were washed with an unfamiliar feeling, your mind flashing back to yours and trent's midnight mcdonald's run when he said the exact same thing.
that remembrance made you keep a mental note to call him later, just to see how things were holding up on that side.
the conversation picked up again when you shut off your camera. and of course, it took the emotional route at the hour of vulnerability. it hopped from family to work to comfortability in your respective situations in a matter of seconds.
it was nice for jude to have this time to talk about stuff like this, you knew he appreciated moments like this where he could express himself more freely without a language barrier or slight anxiety.
when he first left for madrid you remembered the five-hour conversation you had over the phone because he couldn't fall asleep, too unsure and unfamiliar with his surroundings to be able to settle in. with that, you made sure to check up on him daily before bed.
time zones didn't stop you and never would, especially with someone you considered family. jude and jobe were easily younger brothers to you— jude being the irritating younger brother who acted as if he were older than you and jobe being the sweet younger brother that needed constant affection.
you cared for them both dearly, making time to see each other whenever you could when you schedules were free.
"so you found the apartment?" jude asked and popped a grape into his mouth while he listened to you talk about your move out of your sister's house.
maya and noah were moving to london at the beginning of next year, which just so happened to be two months from now. which honestly was a great idea and you were super excited for them, but it was the househunting the was an issue for you because you were so picky.
you weren't too worried about the rent, the main issue was the interior so you took it upon yourself to do some drastic redecorating when you found one. and in four months it was ready, the only thing it was missing was you.
you nodded happily, "I can move in whenever I'm ready."
your answer made jude smile. be knew just how excited you were to finally move into a place of your own because all you'd been doing was saving up. "which is..."
"which is before christmas. and I have a little surprise on the way as well," you retorted in excitement but jude's thoughts immediately went to pregnancy and you could see it on his face, judging by how quickly his eyes dropped to your stomache.
the sun had fully set now, the air beginning to chill but not in a way that had you shivering, but in a way that made you feel relieved. basking in the atmosphere took your mind elsewhere, a glimmer of something in the back of your mind flashing.
your stomach dropped at the memory. one of the many that you've recently.
"we have to go to spain." the glee in your voice bounced off the walls of the bedroom, back to the bed where you and your boyfriend were lying.
he chuckled at your antics and the way that your grip tightened on his torso, his fingers lightly tracing your shoulder. "we'll go anywhere you like baby." he kissed the top of your head.
you looked up at him with doe eyes. "really?"
michael flashed an adoring smile, the same one that showed just how smitten he was for you. you felt a chill run down your spine at the touch of his fingers on your cheeks. "I'd do anything for you."
your throat stung at the memory, something that weighed so heavily on your chest. moments where you two promised to build a family together resurfaced, where you promised to always be there for each other, but this time accompanied by a bitter taste.
you'd accomplished so much these past few months and he wasn't there to witness it like he said he would. there weren't any flowers or handwritten cards with a hug that made you melt. you could still hear his voice sometimes and the way he would speak to you so gently.
at your graduation you could barely enjoy the moment because while being onstage you saw his face in the crowd, an unreadable expression and the words "I'm so proud of you, love" floating aimlessly through the air.
everything he ever said to you was now floating aimlessly through the air.
judebellingham
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jobebellingham and 4 245 223 others liked this post
judebellingham had to go back to the hotel like thrice for her to get changed [tagged: spamjam._.]
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jobebellingham please never take selfies again
→ spamjam._. agreed
→ judebellingham you're both walking to the stadium I don't care
vinijr ❤️🔥 [liked by judebellingham]
spamjam._.
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liked by liverpoolfc and 2 345 234 others
spamjam._. 🌼
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jobebellingham it's like you couldn't have waited for me before doing all this 😃
→ spamjam._. we're going to be together all week bro chill 🙄
liverpoolfc jamie come back, the kids miss you 🥲
→ spamjam._. they're lying
trentarnold66 you owe me a mcdonalds run when you get back [liked by spamjam._.]
→ spamjam._. yes sir 🫡
Ibrahimakonate 🙊❤️ [liked by spamjam._.]
curtisjr my gf says you're beautiful 🙄
→ spamjam._. gf?? curtis call me right now istg!!
levicolwill okay supermodel🙄❤️ [liked by spamjam._.]
→ spamjam._. check your dm's
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"there's my favourite boy!"
you had your arms spread for a hug as you watched jobe walk up to you with a sheepish smile. you could tell that he was a slight bit embarrassed, but gave in anyway and dropped his bags to embrace you.
he had grown a freakishly large amount since the last time you saw him— towering over you would be an understatement and it took every bit of you not to feel overwhelmed, but how could you when he was so freaken cute??
a shy chuckle came from jobe as you continued to hug him, your arms tightly wrapped around in torso. "you can carry on when we get back to the hotel, people have places to be."
that wasn't good enough of an excuse for you. "they can let me have my moment."
when you got back to the hotel, jude wasn't there as suspected but all your bags were already packed for tomorrow morning's early flight back to madrid. the rest of the day was spent just relaxing in the hotel room and catching up as usual because you didn't want to waste your energy and fall asleep half way into the first half of the match.
"I can't believe I'm about to watch barça and madrid play," jobe commented as he scrolled through his twitter feed.
you two were settled comfortably on the couch set with snacks and the t.v playing as background noise. when you didn't reply he looked up from his phone, only to see you glued to your own with a lopsided smile.
it was unlike you to ignore him, even if it were by accident so it raised some suspicion. he kicked your thigh in an attempt to gain your attention but it didn't work, your fingers typing away at the keyboard for whatever reason. he didn't want to be one of those brothers and take your phone right out of hand and see what had you so interested— that was jude's job.
so instead he resorted to kicking you over and over until you eventually got irritated and yelped out in pain. "jobe my leg," you groaned and began to rub your thigh that he'd been taking hits at.
when you looked at him again his expression had changed, his lips slightly parted in shock. you asked him what the issue was and all he could manage was a scoff of disbelief. there'd only been one other instance where he'd seen you act like this before, and he tried to forget it at most.
"who are you talking to?"
jobe wasn't one to pry and you knew that, and when he did it was out of genuine concern. you cleared your throat awkwardly. "just a friend."
his eyes narrowed at your answer, knowing he caught you. "you don't have friends." in no way did he mean to offend you by saying that, because it was true and as clear as day. he knew you too well, maybe you could hide things from jude for a bit but with jobe it was different because everything came out unintentionally.
a sigh of defeat escaped your mouth and you set your phone down on your lap. "this is a situation my friend is in right now. you're not going to ask any questions okay?"
jobe nodded his head eagerly and sat upright so he could pay more attention. and just like that, you found yourself lost in the explanation and you were sure you nearly namedropped at least thrice but jobe remained attentive and gave his word when needed.
"I mean if they aren't dating then there should be nothing wrong with you--"
you gave jobe a look and he immediately retracted his last word.
"your friend. your friend, not you," he corrected sheepishly and you nodded.
he thought the idea was dumb. you could've just said that you were talking about yourself and he wouldn't have bugged you... that much. "your friend isn't overstepping any boundaries by the sound of it. so she should just go with the flow--"
you couldn't believe that you were taking relationship advice from an 18-year-old right now. this was your lowest. "--whatever happens, happens."
whatever happens, happens.
his advice genuinely seemed to shift some gears in your mind, and you wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in a bear hug. so that's exactly what you did. "have I ever told you how much I love you?"
the question made him stifle a laugh, the boy tightening his grip around your shoulders as you lay on top of him. "I want to say yes but no."
you slapped his arm jokingly. "you're my favourite brother too. but don't tell jude."
"how can I not??"
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