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agent-whiskeys-sweetheart · 3 years

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Meant To Be (iii)

Pairing: Hotch x F!Reader

Summary: After meeting Garcia you make quick work of helping with the case, desperate to prove yourself to Hotch. Once the two of you help the team wrap everything up it’s time for them to return home. Which also means it’s time for you and Hotch to talk. One on one.

Warnings: Nothing in this chapter.

Word Count: 5,288

A/N: I wanna say I’m super happy you guys are enjoying this series cause honestly I’m having a lot of fun writing it! I love you all dearly. (If you’re just now finding this series, that’s perfectly alright! I’m glad you’re here! Feel free to catch up and enjoy the rest of the story. Here’s a link to Part 1 and Part 2 of Meant To Be.)

The elevator ride to the bottom floor of the building was quick, allowing you to make your way to Garcia’s office in a matter of minutes. There was a plaque up next to the door, indicating that you were in the right place. Taking a moment to steady yourself you exhale before knocking on the door. A voice on the other side tells you to come in so you do. Around you are dozens of impressive looking monitors, all of which are doing something different. On top of the long L-shaped desk there were several small trinkets and toys, bringing a sort of life into the dark room. The woman sitting in front of you spins around in her chair to look at you, a quick flash of confusion on her face. She looks extremely kind and everything about her appearance makes you want to smile.

“Hello. My name is Y/N L/N. Are you Penelope Garcia?”

“Yes, I am. What can I do for you?” Once you’re sure you’re in the right place you step forward to shake her hand. She stands so that you are both on the same level now, shifting awkwardly.

“Sorry to barge in like this. Everything has gone pretty fast this morning. I’m a new agent for the BAU. Today is my first day. The rest of the team just left on a case and SSA Hotchner asked me to stay behind and help from here.” Her face lights up with a bright smile.

“Oh, that’s awesome! It’s really nice to meet you! Please come in, sit down. Make yourself comfortable.” With this, she pulls another chair up to the desk and then sits back down in her own. “I didn’t actually know we had any new agents joining us. That being said, welcome! I’m almost always here by myself so the company will be nice. You and I can get to know each other.” You nod with a smile, watching her as she continues what she was doing. There are several different tabs open across the screens with loads of information that she seems to be compiling. When she sees your incredulous face she laughs.

“I know, it’s a lot. I’m just trying to get as much preliminary information as I can to send to the team. That’s what you’ll be helping me with. We collect research, data, important records. Anything they need to find out, we provide. Kind of cool, right?” Remaining silent, you nod. Upon seeing this, Garcia stops typing for a moment. “I know it may not seem as exciting as field work but it’s still very important. Don’t worry, I’ll make it fun. I promise you won’t be bored.” Patting your knee, she continues typing and you watch carefully now. This is where you will be until the case is over so you intend to make the absolute best of it. Everyone on the team has their own special skills and now is the time to learn from Garcia.

“So what exactly are you looking for right now?”

“I am compiling a list of the victim’s friends and family, plus witnesses from the robberies who might be able to give us any information. This will give the others a clear list of where to go first. I’m also seeing what I can find about the people who were at the banks on the days of the robberies in case there’s anything useful they need to know. Financial troubles, criminal records, anything to possibly link the witnesses to one another.” Scooting your chair forward so you can see better, you lean an elbow on the desk.

“What can I help with?” You ask hopefully.

“Oh, I think that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. I can’t even count on one hand how many times I’ve had someone down here and all they do is sit and look over my shoulder. Sorry, rambling. I can get you logged into a monitor here and it looks like the next thing on my list was looking into the victim’s workplace. Sound good?”

“Yes, absolutely.” She moves over quickly and gets a separate monitor opened so you can begin researching.

“We’ll probably do what research we can in the next twenty to thirty minutes and then we’ll call the team to tell them what we’ve found out.” With that, you make quick work of doing everything you can in the time you have. Even if it is the last thing you ever do, you will prove to Aaron Hotchner just how valuable a team member you are.

++++++++++

The jet takes off fairly soon once the team is onboard. They all stow their go-bags and begin settling in for the flight. It is going to be a longer one today so they are all preparing themselves for the journey. Aaron finds a seat near a far window where he sets the case file down in front of himself and begins reading. His mind is swimming with thoughts and he will do anything to quiet them. The scene plays out over and over in his head, the memory still painfully fresh. Why had he said those things? He was unnecessarily harsh and he is fully aware of this. Now the first memory you’ll have of starting your dream job will be your new boss treating you appallingly. What had even compelled him to speak to you that way? Seeing you had overwhelmed him. The way you looked when you came into his office for the first time. The way your hair framed your face, the light hopefulness in your eyes, the way you captivated him with your movements. Standing there, just feet away from him, you had looked just as beautiful as the first day he met you. God, why did he lie like that? How could he have said he didn’t recognize you when you had stayed in his thoughts more times than he would like to admit over the past year? All the emotions he felt at the mere thought of you made him nauseous and he had no way of understanding them. As badly as he felt for it, he knew that for the time being it would be best to let you work from the BAU headquarters.

“Hotch, are you okay?” JJ’s voice brings him quickly back to reality. The fact that she could see how deeply in thought he was makes him feel an odd sense of shame and he straightens in his seat.

“Of course, I’m fine.” With this, she goes back to her own seat. With a huff of exhaustion, Hotch continues reading. The cabin is silent for a time as the other team members sit reading their case files.

“So,” Morgan’s voice breaks the quiet. “What do we think of Y/N?” The mention of your name causes Hotch to perk up against his will.

“Well, I like her.” Emily is the first to chime in. “I know you guys all got to meet her before me but there’s just something about her. An inherent sweetness. I’m really excited to work with her.”

“Me, too,” JJ says next. “I thought she was kind and open. In this job, that kind of personality is hard to find. I just hope the things she sees doesn’t cause her to lose that. The world needs more kind people, not less. She seems tough though. I think she can handle it.”

“I totally agree,” Morgan adds, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. “She’s got a little bit of fierceness in her but I like that. You’ve gotta be tough to do this job but she’s also sweet. That’s important too. Plus, that kid’s got the cutest smile. Kind of reminds me of my sisters.” At the mention of your smile, Hotch closes his eyes briefly trying to picture that smile directed at him. He quickly catches himself and looks back down at the file.

“Well, I can’t say I know her that well yet but she seems intelligent. She certainly has eagerness to learn. I think that will help her be successful. It’s very ... refreshing.” Spencer says with a small smile.

“I agree. Right off the bat she’s got a very likable energy,” Rossi begins letting himself trail off for a moment. “Although, I have to say there is something about her that is so familiar. I can’t quite place how I might know her though. Her name too, I recognize it. For a second I thought she recognized me too but I can’t be sure.” The rest of the team watches him for a moment as he tries to recollect how he knows you but he quickly comes up blank. “I’m sure I’ll think of it eventually. Nevertheless she seems like a good kid. I’m excited to see her at work. Just a shame we’ll all have to wait.”

Hearing this Aaron shifts in his seat, knowing that the comment is directed at him since he was the one that made you stay behind. He is suddenly very aware of the other team members looking at him.

“Yeah, Hotch. Why isn’t she here? I thought for sure you’d wanna see what she can do.” Derek locks eyes with Aaron, causing him to debate how to answer the question. All his life Hotch has worked to control his feelings and the way that they manifest so his face remains expressionless as he thinks for a short second.

“I think that for right now her time would be better spent helping Garcia and getting used to her new environment. I agree that she does seem very intelligent and more than capable. I would just like to speak with her one on one first before thrusting her into the high intensity atmosphere that comes with our line of work.” However, this answer doesn’t seem to satisfy Morgan’s curiosity.

“She told me when she came out of your office that you said you didn’t remember her. Is that true?” This continued line of questioning makes his blood begin to boil. Aaron Hotchner of all people knows that lies are what cause the foundations of trust to crumble. If he can’t be honest with himself, how can he expect to be honest with his team? And yet, he finds himself unable to expose his own misdeed.

“Yes, that is correct. We’ve had a lot of cases come and go in the last few years and no one should be expected to remember every interaction they have in that length of time. According to her it was only one day and it was a long time ago at that. I apologized to her and she understood. That is the end of it.”

“Look, I’m not passing judgement Hotch. I’m just saying I can understand why she was so hurt,” Hearing this causes his heart to clench. “She looks up to you. She didn’t even have to tell me that, I could just see it. You mentored her in a time that was very uncertain, when she had a lot to prove. She still has a lot to prove and I’m sure she thought that you would have her back and the first thing you tell her is that you don’t even remember who she is? I get it man, you’re under a lot of stress right now but she’s a part of your team. I just thought you of all people would be a little more sensitive than that.”

His words cut right through Aaron’s heart like a knife but before he has a chance to say anything the laptop screen in the center of the cabin lights up, revealing you and Garcia. Glad for a break from the tension the rest of the team members look toward the screen. With one last glance at Morgan, Hotch leans towards him. “We will discuss this later.” His voice is firm and dangerous but he pulls away to look at the laptop. “What did you find?” He directs at the two of you.

Seeing him causes you to straighten in your seat as you ready yourself to put on your most professional face. Garcia begins telling everyone what she was able to find out about the victim. She has significantly more information than you do but once she’s done she allows you to share what you found. The victim worked at a local grocery store but he had been previously employed at the bank where the robbery took place. The team begin building a rough profile based on the information. You listen closely to their analysis of the unsubs, making mental notes on what you might add to the profile. Before you have a chance to add anything, Hotch thanks the two of you for your work and hangs up. For a moment, you could swear you saw a hint of sadness when he looked at you but you were sure it was just a glitch on the screen.

“Sorry sweetpea. I could totally tell you wanted to add something. They can be pretty abrupt like that sometimes.” You simply give a small shrug. “Well, why don’t you tell me what it was? It’ll give you a little practice for building profiles.” She scoots to the edge of her chair, looking at you intently to which you give a small laugh.

“Well, as we know all of the unsubs are large burly men. The five of them could easily subdue the few weaker people that were present at each of the robberies and yet they chose to bring guns. I believe this shows that they feel a certain sense of inadequacy in their everyday lives. Despite their masculine appearance I would suspect they all have mediocre jobs where they are looked down upon or treated poorly. It’s possible that they all work at the same place but I would imagine they probably met somewhere else. Maybe a support group of some sort. The use of weapons gives them a sense of power over the victims that helps them live out their mass fantasy. The victim of the last crime scene was shot in the head which indicates some personal relationship between him and the unsub who pulled the trigger. That could be a good place to start.”

“Well, it definitely makes sense to me. Maybe we can start looking in to possible support groups for these type of men. Oh, and anyone that might possibly have had reason to kill our victim.” Garcia immediately begins typing and you scoot closer to her side.

“Shouldn’t we wait for the order from Hotch?” She laughs at this.

“Trust me, sweetheart. At the end of the day he’s gonna thank us for the head start. One thing to know about the boss man. He likes to see initiative but he also wants you to follow his exact orders. It’s a fine balance but once you figure out how to work the line, he’s gonna love you for it.” The thought of Hotch loving you for anything at all in the world makes your heart flutter. Almost instantly you stop that train of thought and berate yourself for even entertaining it.

“Well, I guess we better get started then.” The rest of the day goes smoothly. You and Garcia coordinate everything beautifully, finding a good amount of information that you save to send to Hotch at the most convenient time. The day seems to be over almost as quickly as it began and you thank Garcia before heading out to your car. The drive home seems to be much more monotonous than before. It seems like you’re back inside your apartment and stretched out on the couch before you can hardly blink. Rolling over, you reach for your phone which you had thrown on the coffee table. With a groan, you begin dialing your sister’s number. As much as today sucked there was no one in the world you’d rather vent to than your sister.

“Well hey there babe. I’ve been patiently awaiting your call. Give me just a minute to get sat down. I want to hear every last detail.” There are sounds of shuffling on the other side of the phone as she finds a seat. “Okay, I’m all good. Now, tell me about your first day at the BAU! Was it everything you dreamed it would be?”

“Yeah, not exactly,” You laugh. “It was kind of rough to be honest.” There is a moment of silence as you think how to begin.

“Okay. Start at the beginning, walk me through it.”

“Alright. Well, I got inside and I was honestly just in awe of being there, just getting to stand in that room. It felt like I was invincible. Derek Morgan was the first one to talk to me. He was just as charming as I remembered. Anyway, he introduced me to the rest of the team and we got to talk for a bit which was really nice, you know? From the get go I really felt like part of the team.”

“Now you know I hate to interrupt but all of this sounds great!”

“Yeah, well, that was the best part of the day and it didn’t last very long. After I met everyone I went up to Aaron Hotchner’s office to give him my paperwork. I’m sure you know by now that I was pretty excited to see him again, right? Well, when I told him how excited I was to be working with him again he told me that he didn’t actually know who I was. He completely forgot about me. I mean, I guess I get it. It’s been a year and a half and he meets a lot of people. Why would he remember me specifically?”

“Y/N, don’t invalidate your own feelings. What he said upset you and it’s okay to be hurt. That would have hurt my feelings too. You’re a really great person and he sucks for not thinking about you ever since he met you.” Hearing this, you can’t help but laugh a bit. Her ability to defend you no matter what always cheers you up.

“Thank you. I appreciate that. I just wish he thought the same. Anyway, I gave him my paperwork so I could travel with the team. They got a case this morning and I was planning to go with them but for some reason Hotch made me stay behind even though I am cleared to be in the field. It just really bummed me out because I was super ready to get out there and start working but I got benched for my very first case. He had me stay with this girl named Garcia, she’s the team’s technical analyst. I mean, she’s really sweet and we worked super well together but I just wish I could have been out there doing the things that I spent seven years of my life training for.”

“I am so sorry. That sucks. I know how excited you were. Look at the bright side, this is only your first case. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to get out there and prove yourself. It’s all gonna work out.” Unable to keep from smiling, you roll over on your side.

“Thanks. I really hope you’re right.” Sensing the fact that you’re still upset she decides to help by changing the subject.

“So, who all did you meet today? I know you already knew a few of the team members but was there anybody new?”

“Yeah, Elle and Gideon are no longer there. I’m really sad I missed getting to work with them but the people I met seem really amazing. The first girl I met was named Emily Prentiss. She was really nice. The other was a guy named David Rossi.” When you finish your sentence there is nothing but silence on the other end of the phone. You wait a minute for your sister’s response but there is nothing. Before you can ask what’s wrong she chimes in again.

“Did you say David Rossi?” There is a tone in her voice that you don’t recognize and it causes concern to stir in your stomach.

“Yeah, why? What’s up?” There is another moment of silence.

“It’s -- it’s nothing. I shouldn’t bring it up. You’ve already had a rough day.” As if she can sense your anxiety she continues. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. I promise I’ll tell you later, okay? I just don’t think we should talk about it right now, that’s all.” As much as you want to pry you can tell that no matter how much you ask, you’re not getting the answer out of her. With a sense of unease you agree and try changing the conversation again. Once you’ve changed the topic to something other than work you can feel her ease again and the two of you talk for nearly 45 minutes. After a while you decide to call it a night and shortly afterwards you find yourself in bed. You hadn’t even realized how exhausted you were until your head hit the pillow. Your sleep is dreamless which you decide in the morning is probably a good thing.

++++++++++

The remainder of the case is spent hunkered down in Garcia’s office either doing frantic research or simply getting to know one another. In just a short while the two of you become very fast friends. You realize quickly that you share a lot of common interests and all of your conversations are endlessly fascinating. It also doesn’t take you very long to realize that you actually enjoy the work that you do with her. There is quite a bit of skill required to dig as deeply and accurately as the two of you do. It is a race against the clock to find everything you need in order to help the team and there is a certain level of excitement that comes with that. Of course you still wish you were out in the field but in the end you learn a lot and make a good friend along the way. The case ends rather succinctly with all five unsubs found and arrested with no more casualties along the way. It’s a good feeling, knowing that you helped to catch the bad guys and no one had to die for you to do so. The day the team is set to return you and Garcia head out for coffee before they show up, figuring that you deserve a little treat after all of your hard work. You make light conversation as you make your way back into the building just in time for the team to arrive. You watch them each make their way to their desks, setting down their bags and taking a moment to rest. Of course the last one to walk in is Hotch who heads straight up to his office, shutting the door behind him.

When you feel like it’s an appropriate time you make your way over to Morgan’s desk. Upon seeing you his lips crack into a wide smile.

“Well hey sweetheart! I have to say, you did awesome work on this case.” As he says this, he extends his hand for a high five which you quickly grant him. “I know it wasn’t easy having to sit out but you did great. I’m proud of you.” It takes everything in you not to blush.

“Thanks. I learned a lot and I made a good friend along the way.”

“Yeah, Garcia’s pretty great isn’t she?” He says with a knowing smile.

“She definitely is. She talks about you a lot, you know.”

“Oh, I know. Baby girl just can’t stop thinking about me. Not that I blame her, of course.” At this you lightly punch his arm.

“You are both such teases.” This makes Morgan laugh.

“We gotta keep things interesting.” He leans forward as though he’s about to start his paperwork but he quickly leans back to look at you. “Hey, now that I’m back we gotta go out for drinks tonight. Everyone else is already game so long as you are.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You confirm with a grin.

“Great. You know, I’d say I’m buying but I kind of feel like you owe me.” Your brow furrows in confusion.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I was trying to get some answers for you so I asked Hotch why he wouldn’t let you on the case and he royally chewed me out for it. In his defense I probably shouldn’t have asked in front of the rest of the team but that decision still just doesn’t sit right with me.” Morgan’s words mingle in your head. It doesn’t sit right with you either but it isn’t really your place to question your boss’ orders.

“I’m sorry he got upset with you. I do appreciate you defending me though. You’re my knight in shining denim.”

“Anytime kid. I’m happy to help.” Getting to talk to Morgan has almost instantly lifted your spirits. However, it doesn’t take long for your heart to drop into your stomach.

“Agent L/N. May I speak to you in my office please?” You hadn’t even noticed that Hotch had come out of his office until his voice drew your attention to him. With a quick look at Morgan, who gives you a reassuring glance, you push yourself off his desk and make your way over to where Hotch is standing. Once you’re at his side he extends a hand, allowing you to step inside first. He follows quickly, shutting the door behind him. “Please, have a seat.” He says, gesturing towards a leather couch on the far wall. As you begin to sit on one end he takes up residence on the other, his knee just inches away from yours. Once you’re both settled he focuses all of his attention on you. He doesn’t seem angry but you aren’t holding your breath. It’s best to just stay professional and speak with him earnestly.

“I’m glad to see you all back safely sir.” You begin. After the stress of the case, you want to make sure he knows that as hurt as you were by his previous decision you harbor no ill will towards him.

“Thank you. It’s not very often that cases end as well as this one did. You understand that, don’t you? This was a special circumstance.”

“Yes, I realize that. I’m just grateful that it did end happily even if it was just this once.” There is an intensity in the way he watches you.

“Good. I just want to make sure you fully know what to expect.”

“I do sir. I did the day that I applied for school. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Staying silent for a moment he nods as if in thought.

“I know before I left I said we would be able to talk. I’d like to learn a little bit more about you and from there I’ll be able to evaluate your abilities before taking you into the field. I know it wasn’t the decision you were hoping for but I hope you understand it nonetheless.”

“Of course. It’s not my place to question you and in the end I learned a lot from Garcia. Plus she was nice to work with.”

“Good. I’m very glad to hear that you were able to make the most of the situation.” He stops for a moment, his gaze relaxing. “I wanted to tell you how well you did on this case. A challenge was presented to you and you handled it with grace. The information you provided was incredibly helpful and your suggestions were very well thought out. I was very impressed.” The softness in his eyes as he praises you leaves a fluttering sensation in your stomach. Throughout the entirety of the case you had been so hell bent on proving yourself to him and hearing him say that you had done well made every hour of hard work worth it. As much as your heart is singing you have to remind yourself to be calm. Even though he is being kind to you now, he had made his feelings known to you during your first meeting. There is no reason to read into things. Clearly he doesn’t feel what you feel.

“Thank you sir. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed when I was left behind but I realized that I’m grateful to be here no matter what. I worked really hard to get here, to be doing this kind of work, and not everyone gets the chance to do what they’re truly meant to be doing. As heartbreaking as the outcome of this job usually is, I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.” With every word the two of you are locked into one another’s eyes. For a moment you can almost swear he is holding his breath.

“I appreciate that sense of purpose. I will always support my team but it makes it easier with members who are invested.”

“I am. Completely. I’m here. I know you haven’t gotten a real chance to see me work but please know that my heart is in this.”

“That was never in question,” Hotch pauses, letting his eyes fall to his lap as he considers his next sentence. “I believe now that I made a rash decision in asking you to stay behind. I can see that you are mentally prepared to be in the field. I apologize for my harsh words. I of course can’t say anything for your physical performance yet but I won’t be able to evaluate the full extent of your abilities until I am able to watch you in the field. On the next case I would like you to join the rest of the team.” A breath of relief leaves your lips.

“Of course. I’m ready to get to work.”

“I know. You’ll have the chance soon enough. In the meantime, if you have any questions or concerns feel free to come speak with me.”

“Thank you sir.” Hotch simply nods in response, beginning to stand. You follow his actions, gathering that he is done with the conversation. As you make your way to the door, feeling much lighter than when you came in, he stops you.

“Agent L/N,” The sound of his voice causes you to turn back. “I just wanted to say again that I’m sorry for not remembering you. I never meant to hurt you. It isn’t that you were forgettable. It’s just that a lot has happened in the last year.” This apology seems much more heartfelt than before and you try to hide a smile.

“I forgive you, sir.” With that you take your leave, making your way right back to Morgan’s desk. The shift in your mood must be palpable because he looks up at you with a smile.

“That’s not the face of someone that just got yelled at by Hotch.”

“No, no he didn’t yell at me. He was just telling me I did a good job and he cleared me to work in the field on the next case.”

“Good for you, kid. I’m glad we’re finally gonna get a chance to see what you can really do,” Nodding you rest against the edge of his desk again. “Now, see? That wasn’t too bad was it?” Looking back towards Hotch’s office you can see him bent over his desk, filling out paperwork. Being able to watch him for a moment without fear of falling apart allows you to crack a small smile.

“No. I guess it wasn’t.”

Tags: @talesfromtheguild @lannister-slings-and-arrows @gryffindorwriter @nopeforyou @sheerfreesia007 @roxypeanut @ohpedromypedro @ssahotchie @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @the-mechanical-angel @races-erster @maxlordd @pascalisthepunkest @paintballkid711 @hotchafterhours @h0tchner @ssahotchswife @ssahotchhner @technotic-prophecy @klinenovakwinchester @hotch-stufff @annadorothxa @canadailluminate @yoshigguk @gothicxbarbie @romanogersendgame

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thedamageofherdays · 3 years

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This week's (16-08-2021 - 22-08-2021) reading log is here. This week's reading log is super duper long and filled with lots of good things (my apologies for the long post, I really could not find a good spot to do a read more). I discovered some new favourites and re-read some old favourites and while I had an intense week personally at least the fics I read were absolutely phenomenal. I do recommend checking out the warnings as some fics are a bit heavier/angstier and you might wanna be prepared. Most of these fics are Stucky but there are a couple of other ships in between.

If you are looking for more fun and/or good things make sure to check out the @marveldisabilitycelebration as well to see all the awesome art, fics, meta, etcetera people created! And while I am mentioning events I am a mod for let me also just quickly mention that sign-ups for the @stuckygiftexchange are still open until the end of the month <3

Favourites are marked with a 🌻 Fics that are only available to AO3 users are marked with a 🔒 and Tumblr fics are marked with a 🍀

🌻 The Bends by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Danbeau, side Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Memory is not a house you can just walk back into after finding the key you thought you’d lost. It’s a thing you wade into and out of, rewriting it as it rewrites you.

It’s not without its rewards, either - recovering a memory about Maria and Monica, about her life, feels better than socking a thousand bad guys in the face, better than all the photon blasts in the world.

Then again, realising there’s still memories she can’t access, even after all this time, feels like drowning in space.

Not the one out there - the one inside her.

🌻 Sweet & Salty by musette22 @musette22 [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Idiots in love. That's it. That's the fic.

When life gives you lemons by moonythejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 34k words, Explicit] (11/15 chapters)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

🍀 SamRhodey Tumblr Fic by ipoiledi [SamRhodey, ? words, Teen?]

“Wilson, this is Rhodey; Rhodey, Wilson,” Tony Stark says, and suddenly some six foot tall sexy guy is shoved right in front of Sam, and they both stumble a little, bumping into each other. This is a crowded party. “You guys have things in common, right?” Stark asks. “Uh, Army stuff. Talk about that. I hate wallflowers; stop wallflowering and talk to each other.”

Shorteralls by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 6k words, Explicit]

The first time Bucky ever saw Steve Rogers, he was struck by how Neanderthal-like his response was. It was immediately followed by a bout of mental scolding. The second time was just about the same. The third time, it was actually appropriate for Bucky to start a conversation with him, at which point he was determined to be the gentleman.

No such luck. Steve Rogers is, always has been and always will be, a relentless flirt. These days, Bucky's Neanderthal-ist feelings about Steve are consensual and highly appreciated. More so now that they're having a baby.

what the fuck are perfect places anyway by tigerlilycorinne [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Steve clears his throat and stands. “Well, I should head in. I might want to begin packing.”

Bucky stills. “You won’t,” he says, trying to sound commanding. It only comes out uncertain. “Don’t.”

Steve shakes his head. “Maybe not tonight,” he says, and Bucky knows they’ll be discussing this again soon.

“Then stay. Play… play cards with me or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows jump up, his mouth tugging up in another of his bemused smiles that do things to Bucky’s insides, but he drops his hand from the doorway and steps back into Bucky’s room. Somehow, Bucky feels as if he’s won—not the war, just the battle.

Steve won’t stay forever. But he’ll stay for cards.

Steve and Bucky, on the run after Civil War (with a few alterations to canon), are laying low in Wakanda. But they can’t stay there forever.

🌻 honestly thought i’d be dead by now, but what you can trust is that i need your touch by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 105k words, Explicit]

Bucky is 37 years old; he’s unmarried, hasn’t had a Sub of his own, is definitely not ripped, comfortable at his job as an Advanced Practice RN at Brooklyn General ER, and just got his Five Years coin from AA.

Steve is 26 years old; he’s unmarried, his last and only Dom has Alzheimer's, he's worryingly muscular, uncomfortable in his job as the government’s poster Alpha for masculinity and strength, and worries more than he should about his BMI.

Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky meet initially in a not-cute moment. Bucky’s tired as shit thanks to the sudden alien invasion that shook New York and Steve is tired as shit because he hasn’t slept more than 20 minutes at a time in – well, since 1936, probably. Bucky’s Alpha instincts get irritated at the sudden presence of another "Alpha" into his territory and Steve’s suppressed submissive tendencies latch onto this grumpy bachelor Alpha and he only suppresses it further.

Bucky’s grumpiness and Steve’s duckling impressionism aside, both of them are a mess. But since both of them are a mess? Their messes seem to fit pretty well together.

Deep Sea Diving by Aida Ronan [Stucky, 5k words, Explicit]

Steve's wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

honey, make this easy by steebadore [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

Bucky likes the way he looks. His silk button up with the tiny gold polka dots feels soft on his skin and is tailored perfectly; no pulling at his chest or belly. His hair falls in shiny dark waves and his skin is smooth and dewy. He looks expensive. He looks taken care of. He looks like Steve’s.

🌻 let's take it back to the start by howdoyousleep @howdoyousleep3 [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

How it all began.

This sleepwalking through my life. by barthelme [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

The internet is an interesting place and when Bucky came home (or, when he came to live with Steve), Steve did a lot of research. Apparently, it’s not safe to wake a sleepwalker. He assumes that waking a sleepwalker with traumatic dreams and PTSD is beyond just being frowned upon.

And he tells himself--has told himself--that this is safer for Bucky. That if he were to stop him and wake him up, that Bucky would be mortified to be slurping on his best friend’s cock. That all of the improvements he’s made would be lost, would be repressed, would be just--

They’d be back at square one.

So he lets Bucky do it.

🌻 the way i've been craving by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

"Lunch break at 12:30. My office. Hope you’re hungry…"

It’s the ellipsis that sends Bucky’s insides swimming warmly, his heart beating twice as fast against his ribs where he sits in class. Senator Rogers is concise, direct, to the point. Without an ellipsis this is lunch, this is a meeting. With it though?

This is a booty call.

nasty but classy by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

“No, you don’t have to know the purpose, that doesn’t matter. Nat showed me this challenge where couples drink a lot of wine and get drunk together but they can’t touch each other. And whoever touches the other first has to...has to give the other head.”

🌻 Put It on Repeat, It Stays the Same by giselleslash [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Steve and Bucky have a one night stand that turns into a friends with benefits situation. A weekend snowed in at Bucky’s apartment brings to light how much that really doesn’t suit either one of them.

Greetings to the New Brunette by victoria_p (musesfool) [Stucky, 10k words, General]

"You said he should have a hobby. That it would help."

"I meant, like, knitting or coin collecting. Motocross, if he was feeling antsy. A baby's not a hobby. It's lifetime commitment."

🌻 Rogers & Barnes: Partners by triedunture [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky have to pose as a couple for a mission. Nat insists it really is the only option. She's checked.

The complication: unbeknownst to even Natasha, Steve and Bucky's friendship has been rocky ever since Bucky confessed his tender feelings and Steve left him out in the cold. Can asexual, completely-in-love-with-his-angry-best-friend Steve complete the mission and win Bucky's heart?

(The answer is yes. Yay!)

this will be our year (took a long time to come) by biblionerd07 [Stucky, 4k words, General]

Bucky's therapist is worried he's using Steve as a crutch and wants him to try going on outings without Steve. It wouldn't be terrible, honestly, if Bucky could just manage to open his mouth and say something to Steve.

I'll hold my breath by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) [Stucky, 8k words, Mature]

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

Start from the Beginning by Mumble_Bee [Stucky, 13k words, Explicit]

What about a sex pollen fic where the pollen-ed one doesn’t remember getting hit in the face with a sex flower, and wakes up midway through the depollenating?

Or: the one where Steve wakes up on his back with a stranger buried balls-deep in his ass.

Match by emphasisonem [Stucky, 4k words, Mature]

The situation’s actually kind of funny from the right perspective, Bucky thinks as he reads the message for what feels like the hundredth time. He’s finally matched with a hot, funny guy. Tall and broad and clean cut. An absolutely breathtaking smile. Bucky’s walking wet dream. And he’s good. They haven’t messaged on the app, but Bucky already knows him.

He knows him because Steve Rogers is an art history professor at his university. His art history professor.

Best friends and married since childhood by StuckySituation [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Inspired by @/peterssquill's post in tumblr: "bucky and steve got married on the playground when they were like eight and though neither of them would ever admit it to anyone, even each other, they still consider it official"

~♥~ ♥~ ♥~

“Natasha, stop trying to set me up with every woman you meet, I’m-”

“Too shy? Too scared?”

“No, I’m-”

“Too busy? You’re mostly retired these days, not a good excuse anymore.” Natasha smirks and then drawls: “Or just too gay?”

Steve flushes at that, even if isn’t true -- he’s bisexual, not gay. “Let it go, Nat, I’m not looking for anything. I’m already married, for fuck’s sake.”

Clearly not what she expected. “What.”

Steve grimaces. He didn’t mean to tell anyone that, ever.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it right now!” he says and jumps out of the plane.

Nobody Should Be Alone on a Holiday by emphasisonem [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

“So, um-” Bucky begins speaking again, pulling Steve from his less-than-work-appropriate thoughts. The brunet has shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, and he’s shifting from one foot to the other as he smiles shyly. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Steve grins, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bucky swallows deeply as one of his hands comes up to pull at the collar of his button-up, and Steve can’t help following the motion of his Adam’s apple.

“I was, uh-” Bucky continues- “That is, I heard you don’t have Thanksgiving plans?”

In which Bucky finds out that Steve's going to be alone on Thanksgiving and invites his coworker to spend the holiday with him.

🌻 It's Been A Long Season Through by thiccbuckybarnes @thiccbuckybarnesfic [Stucky, 49k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes is in desperate need of a change in scenery, which is why he makes the foolhardy decision to quit his job, leave his asshole of a fiance, pack up his life, and move to his grandfather’s old farm all within a single day.

He expects confusion, hardship, and maybe even failure. But love? He wasn’t expecting that.

Or, a Stucky Stardew Valley AU that nobody but me wanted and that’s ok.

oh, peach pit, where'd the hours go? by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 10k words, Explicit]

Can't see the forest for the trees.

Or, Steve learns that just because he and Bucky got their happily ever after, it doesn’t mean the past won’t come back to bite them.

I'll find my way by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 725 words, Teen]

Steve had watched Bucky fall, and nothing had been the same since.

AU-gust day 19: Daemons

special delivery by glim @glim [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

It's not that Steve's bad at taking care of himself when he gets sick; he just wishes he didn't have to all the time.

At least he can order most of what he needs online. That's some small comfort, that he can have soup and ice cream and everything else brought to his door.

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

🌻 Rock On! by millesable @marvelousescapism [Clintasha, 700 words, General]

“Hey, Romanoff!”

He lifted his hand, index finger and pinky finger raised, thumb out, all other fingers tucked. Their secret sign; their confession for the world to see, safe in the knowledge that the world wasn’t listening.

“Rock on!”

🌻 You Like the Way I Look by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

Bucky sidles up to him, hand boldly coming to rest on his chest. “What about you, big guy? Care for a dance?” Steve watches Bucky’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction, somehow already knowing he’s got Steve on the hook.

A decade out of the ice, Steve Rogers returns to New York. Reeling from a battle against the Chitauri, a night with the troublesome Bucky Barnes might be just what he needs.

Join the Rebellion by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 765 words, Teen]

Bucky knew he shouldn't be out after curfew, but he couldn't resist the urge. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew it was where he wanted to be.

AU-gust day 20: Dystopia

🔒 Five Days in December by mywingsareonwheels @mywingsareonwheels [Evanstan, 4k words, Teen]

“Shit shit shit shit...” muttered Chris to himself, glad that the sound of piped Christmas carols was drowning out his swearing amid the picture books. Most of the store was heaving even though it was Sunday, he’d been recognised at least three times, finding presents for all of his nieces and nephews was proving far more of a headache than expected, and he’d just sent a pile of copies of "Strictly No Elephants" tumbling off the bookshelf.

He scrambled about trying to pick them all up, and then dropped them again as someone bumped right into his backside. He lost his balance, caught himself against a bookcase, and a landslide of "Carter Is a Painter’s Cat" joined "Strictly No Elephants" on the floor. He yelped.

“Ah fuck, I’m so sorry… Chris!”

* * * * * * * * * *

London, December 2021. Amid cats, books, and the cold English drizzle, Chris finds everything he was hoping for and thought he would never have.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Reaching for Fire by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit]

Bucky has always felt a fire in his heart (and other body parts) when it came to his boss, Steve Rogers, but he's made sure to never feed those flames. When he finds out about Steve's second job, though, he's tempted to let that fire out.

i've been dreaming of a face like yours by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

Bucky is about to busy himself with making a small dinner for himself when he stops in his tracks at the figure drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smirking at him.

It’s Steve.

“Surprise, sweet boy,” he says before setting his cup down.

Or, PWP reunion sex

🌻 Somewhere, Under Your Skin by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 16k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes treats himself to a one-night stand after having a very bad no good day.

The sex is good--great, even. Might be the best sex of his life.

But Bucky wouldn’t have slept with the guy if he had known that he was going to continuously run into him every day for the next fucking month.

Or, a Big Grump Bucky has a hot one night stand with a college kid who is popping up everywhere in his everyday life and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

(Written for HYBB Bingo Square: Grumpy Bucky)

i've played heartstrings before but not in your key by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 11k words, Explicit]

He glances down, seeing a folded couple of papers, before peering up at Bucky. The older man is biting his bottom lip, making it pretty and red. Steve wants to run his tongue across where his teeth are digging into his flesh.

"What's this?" Steve asks, setting his phone down, emails forgotten. Bucky shrugs and looks away.

"I dunno. You tell me, genius," he says, sounding bratty enough that it makes Steve's dick twitch in his pants. Jesus, there has to be something wrong with him.

Steve glances once more at Bucky, who now has his arms crossed against his chest and is pointedly not looking at Steve, before picking up the stack of folded papers. He opens them, seeing a collection of maybe five or six sheets of paper. His eyes immediately land on the list of familiar words with negative next to each one. -- Or, Steve Rogers is a jealous, possessive little shit that wants nothing more than to mark up his boyfriend and stake his claim. And Bucky knows it. (And he likes it.)

🌻 I'm Home (With You) by BonkyBornes @padfoot-and-the-marauders [Stucky, 2k words, General]

In any other circumstance, the apartment would've been perfect. But it was today, and the fact that he was here meant he wasn’t out searching. He knew they hadn’t had any leads for weeks and he knew Natasha was right; all three of them were exhausted and a break would do them good. It just felt wrong to Steve that he was comfortable while Bucky was still out there—somewhere. Probably cold. Probably hungry.

The knock came again. Sighing, Steve unwrapped his hand from the dog tags and remembered how to move. Cold wind and snow greeted him when he opened the door. The solitary figure was walking down the steps, collar popped against the chill.

“Did you need something?” he called.

The person stopped. They were still. And then they turned. *

Or, the Christmas Steve deserved after Winter Soldier.

The portrait by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 915 words, General]

Steve Rogers has a Gift. He can help people find their soulmates, all he needs is some art supplies, a quiet place, and eye contact.

AU-gust day 21: soulmates

Maybe A Muse by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 2k words, Mature]

When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude.

#my reading log #r's reading log #fic rec #stucky fic rec #fics recs #stucky #danbeau #samrhodey #longpost #long post #clintasha #evanstan

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someone1348 · 3 years

Text

It feels good to be back! Apologies on being so inactive on here I've never had time, this summer has been too much but i found some time and inspiration to write so here we are!

People in this: Ler!Ranboo, Lee!Tubbo

This is a somewhat Irl fic!

(Lore is mentioned but its not based on the actual dream smp lore story so don't worry none of what you are going to read ever happened! It just fit the story!)

Tw: none, well i guess the smallest amount of fear, but other than that nothing!

I hope you all enjoyyy again im so sorry! Enjoy the fic my friends! And feel free to leave some requests in the asks! :]

___________~☆°♡°☆°♡°☆~______________

Enderwalking In Real Life!

Tubbo was the happiest of people on the planet right now! His favorite person ever ranboo! Who he'd been playing minecraft with for years it feels like was here! In the Uk! With him!

He could actually see him, hug him, he was real and he was here with him! For a few months too! Its perfect! The world seemed to let the smaller exhale, this is all i need.

The younger smiled contently as he watched him game on the pc he had set up on stream awhile back for his actual meeting. The Taller suggested they do some lore so that's exactly what happened, they logged on together and got started on some lore!

The chat went wild as they saw their beloved Ranboo start enderwalking as the Beeboy and their kid Michael slept

"⊑⟒⌰⌰⍜ ⎎⍀⟟⟒⋏⎅⌇, ⊑⟒⏃⍀⏁"

He spoke as he wondered around not being aware enough to stop or understand what he was saying, he eventually walked all the way back home resting back in his husband's embrace.

End stream,

Tubbo laughed to himself, Ranboo tilted his head looking at him "what are you giggling about hmmm?~" a slight teasing tone was hinted making him giggle a bit more

"Noho I'm just saying you are alot like your character!"

"Yeah? How so?" The taller asked curiously as the other shot him a big smile

"You both sleepwalk!"

"Hmm, i guess enderwalking is like sleepwalking but it was a one time thing for me! Irl me that is"

"Pffft! You kidding man you do it every night!" Tubbo lightly hit his shoulder as Ranboo giggled too "do not!" Pushing him back lightly going at it like two kids arguing over who did what

It was a great moment that was quickly replaced with the idea of food and bed. It was quite late so they got some snacks before brushing their teeth and going to bed.

"Hey! Let me know Tommrow if i sleep walk again tonight i wanna track these things"

"You got it bossman! Nighttt!"

"Goodnighttt!!"

And just like that the two were out cold, nothing but the sound of the wind, some crickets, leaves rustling ever so slightly, andd ranboo sleep walking and making noise.

It was almost peaceful, normally Tubbo slept through Ranboo's nighttime antics but this time the noise was to much so he stayed up studying him to make sure the poor guy didn't hurt himself.

It was the normal for the most part, a few small words or sentences barely noticeable by the human ear, some moving of things, bumping gently into a wall, staring out into the distance

Things seemed quite well so when Tubbo was about to go back to bed that's when he heard it

"Tubbo"

The sleepwalking 6'6 man had turned from his position by the window and looked him dead in the eyes

Tubbo tilted his head, he's said his name before in this state but something about it felt different, off, the smaller was slightly unsettled that was before Ranboo got closer saying his name again, Tubbo didn't notice anything strange about his walking, he was definitely sleeping but this was just weird.

Ranboo got close enough to where he was right beside the known goat hybrid twitch streamer, trying not to wake him up because walking up a sleepwalker is extremely dangerous he whispered gently

"Yeah man"

That was when he caught it "Tubbo,,,,,GOTCHA!" Ranboo's long arm's shot down to tickle alll over the poor sleepy boy's sides, his shirt already a little up from sleeping earlier, his bare skin being attacked without any warning or anything he shrieked, thanking the universe that the room was sound proof

"RAHahaAhaHanbOO!" The brunette giggled in different pitches squirming around on his bed as Ranboo smirked giggling to himself before pretending to sleepwalk again with his speech as his wiggly fingers found there way under his shirt and up to tickle all over his ribs, although it was less ticklish it was still fun!

"Tickle tickle tickle tickle" Ranboo repeated to Tubbo in his sleepwalk tone

"I knohohow yohohour awaha-AHHAGSAH!"

Tubbo's speech was cut off when the said sleepwalker tickled his underarms with such skill it was alot more ticklish then normal maybe it was because he was tired or Ranboo's tricks but he was definitely alot more ticklish than he thought he would be!

"Awww thats so cute, I've caught myself a ticklish little Tubbo for the road! Tickle tickle tickleee~" he teased tickling his neck and ears Tubbo scrunching up giggling his head off

"NahaHAha no EAhahArs NohohO RahaHanbooo!!" Tubbo whined a bit as the man cooed even more

"Dawww that's so cute! Ticklish little ears, hehe Kitchy Kitchy coo~" he whispered in his other ear blowing some air at the end so it's extra Ticklish, 'he was definitely ler mode now' Tubbo thought to himself before covering his own face

Ranboo giggled and paused the tickling for a second "Aww is the lee embarrassed"

"Not a lehee! And no! You just caught me off gaurd!"

"Whatever you say lee~ now uncover your face i wanna see your smile or else~" the open threat made tubbo smirk under his hands refusing to take them off yet

"Or else what big man~" The smaller teased back before hearing an deep inhale of breath

"Wait! wait! WAit RAN-BAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAAHA PLEAHAHAHASE!!!" Tubbo had uncovered his face but

The taller enderboy blew a gaint raspberry on his stomach right over his bellybutton

"RAHAHAAHAHANBOO WAHAHAIT! NO- AHAHAHA PLEAHAHAHASE!!" Ranboo had now begun tickling the man's poor ticklish stomach with one hand scribbling and digging (gently) as the other slowly and teasingly made shapes and other things with his nails driving the smaller into a giggly mess

"HAHAHAHAHA RAHAHAAHAHANBOO!"

Tubbo's mind was so sleepy all he could think about was how much it tickled 'it tickles, it tickles eep!' He was happy, giggly, red faced, smiling but most importantly he was comfortable, physical contact isn't really his strong point he's trying but with ranboo he was safe, comfortable, this was good. He was good.

"Tickletickletickletickle Tktktktktktktk~" the scribbling got more and more hyper as Ranboo got more into the babytalk, laughing along with his best friend

"OKAHAHAY PLEAHAHAHASE IHIHIHIHIT TIHIHICKLES! MEHEHERCY!" He immediately stopped rubbing the tickles away,

"You alright bud? Im sorry if i went alittle overboard" the taller rubbed the back of his neck in slight embarrassment

"Naha you're good man, that was fun!" Tubbo's smile was genuine and that is exactly what Ranboo wanted to see

The taller sat down on Tubbo's bed next to him as the said boy kept talking now that he was breathing normally again "i can't believe you tricked me like that!" He giggled pushing Ranboo again both laughing happily together

"It was the perfect plan! Im just surprised it actually worked!"

"I was sleepy, plus you're a great actor!"

Ranboo giggled

"Well played my friend, well played" Tubbo giggled before knocking out from already being sleepy to now tickled to peices he was down, giggling again the american smiled contently tucking him in before going to bed himself.

That nights rest was the best one they've both had in a long time, the rustle of the leaves and the sound of the fan in the distance everything seemed perfect, it was the best, Together.

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

I hope you all enjoyedd!!! Again im so sorry for all the inconveniences! I love you all! Drink some water, eat something today, take a shower, take at least one water bottle out of your room, and take care of yourself because you deserve it! You are loved, appreciated, stronger than you know and everything is going to be all good! Big hugs from me to you my friends! <3

#k writes tk things #mcyt tickle #dream smp tickle #dreamsmp tickle fic #lee!tubbo #ler!ranboo #beeduo meetup #bee duo tickle fic

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machine-gun-casie · 3 years

Text

tavern music

synopsis: corpse hears tavern music coming from your room (gn!reader)

warnings: rpf, reader gets cheated on, kind of unrequited feelings, mostly hurt/comfort and physical affection tho (what im trying to say is that this is mostly self indulgent)

wc: 1.7k

a/n: havent written in a while but i found this in my arsenal, fixed it up a bit and viola. original plans for this was definitely something longer that would end with them being together but im not up for writing rn. been feeling really shitty lately and ive been needing something like this in my life. hope u guys like it ♡

He couldn’t hear it at first. His headset was on and everyone was being so loud on the discord call. When he started the stream, he really thought it was gonna be a long one. But he’s only two hours in and he’s ready to get the hell off because something was definitely wrong.

“Corpse?” His name being spoken finally broke him out of his trance, he only hummed in response. “You’ve been really quiet. Are you sure you’re up for another game?”

“Actually,” he starts as he closes a few tabs, “I think I’ve gotta go. Today was fun, though. Thanks for having me guys.”

After a chorus of ‘goodbye’s and ‘see you later’s, Corpse disconnected from the discord call. “Thank you guys for being here,” he addressed the chat, “sorry I’m ending so early today. I promise I’ll make it up to you next time. Take care of yourselves. Later.”

After hanging up his headset and getting out of the chair he’s been sitting in for far too long, Corpse made the short trek to your room.

You had only been roommates for less than four months, but Corpse could confidently say that you have become one of his closest friends. Getting a roommate was the last resort that he never wanted to actually resort to. But alas, medical bills were piling up and youtube and music don’t make half as much money as people think they do. So cutting rent in half was the best plan he could come up with. He did have an extra guest room that no one ever stayed in. Of course having someone move into his personal space was terrifying to him. He didn’t just want to post an ad on craigslist or something. So he asked a couple trusted friends to ask a couple trusted friends… And that’s when you came in.

You were the trusted friend of a trusted friend of a trusted friend. When you met, you didn’t make a comment about his voice. Your face sure as hell showed your surprise but you didn’t say anything. To Corpse, this meant one of two things. You either knew who he was but didn’t want to freak him out, or you didn’t know about his online persona and were just genuinely shocked by his voice. It only took a few minutes of knowing you to know that it was the latter. Thank god. You were like anyone your age with social media. You had a few accounts, followed a few people, but mostly used it to stay in contact with friends.

It only took you guys a week to realize you had way too much in common. After many a late night when he wasn’t streaming, and many an early morning when he was just done streaming, you two became inseparable. Nothing could keep you apart.

Except for one thing.

You had a boyfriend.

There was nothing wrong with your boyfriend, per se. Just the fact that he was your boyfriend and Corpse was not.

Yeah, Corpse definitely had feelings for you.

But right now, feelings didn’t matter when he could hear tavern music coming from your room.

He knocked lightly and pushed the door open slowly. “y/n? Can I come in?”

No response came, just sniffles and sobs. The lack of refusal on your part gave him the courage he needed to open the door wider and step into your room. He had only been in your room a couple of times since you had moved in. But he had never been in a room that gave off the feeling of a person so well.

You were curled up on your bed, facing your open laptop screen and the tavern music coming from its speakers. With every sob shaking your chest, Corpse felt his heart break. “y/n,” he murmured softly, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s not working.” Came your reply, heavy with tears. “You said it would make you feel like you're going on an adventure but I still feel like crap.”

“What happened?” Corpse asked as he sat down on your bed, facing you. You slowly sat up and crossed your legs at your ankles in front of you.

“He-” You sighed heavily. “He cheated on me.”

“What?”

“He cheated on me -has been cheating on me- with my best friend. My little brother found out.” You groaned and dramatically dropped your head onto Corpse’s thigh. His hand immediately came in contact with your cheek as he brushed a few stray tears away.

There was rarely any physical contact between you and Corpse. Sometimes you’d give him a high five, sometimes he’d give you fist bump. And there was that one time you came up behind him at the grocery store and hugged his arm to your chest. You immediately whispered something along the lines of ‘creep won’t leave me alone’ followed by a loud ‘hey babe!’

Corpse could barely admit to himself how much he liked that.

But this? This felt good. Corpse’s large warm hand on your face somehow made you want to cry more but in a good way. The tenderness with which he held your face made your heart squeeze as it remembered moments like this with your boyf- ex boyfriend. But then it remembered your brother’s words.

“Hey, what’s up?” You spoke as you answered his call. Your brother wasn’t much of a caller, so it made you worry.

“Hey, where are you right now?”

“I’m home, why?”

“y/n… There’s something I gotta tell you.” He sighed and you could clearly hear the guilt.

“Did you break my DS!” It was your first thought as you had given it to him the last time you had seen him. “Dude! I’ve had that since I was seven!”

“No no, I called about something else.” He cut you off mid-whine. “But also I did lose the pen.” You huffed out a sigh of frustration but stayed silent so he could tell you what he wanted to tell you. “I saw your boyfriend at the park today.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “And?” How did this warrant a phone call?

“He was with Bob.”

When you had met your best friend, your brother was only a toddler. He had decided that her name was Bob, so it stuck. You always called her Bob, she was saved as Bob in your phone, your whole family called her Bob. But you still didn't understand. Why was he calling you to tell you that your boyfriend and your best friend were at the park?

“Why are you calling me about this? You know that they’re friends, right?” You let out a chuckle, albeit still pretty confused. “They’re allowed to hang out without me.”

“They weren’t hanging out.” You could hear your brother push out a strained sigh. What wasn’t he telling you? “They were making out on the swing set. As in, both of them on one swing. And I double checked, it was definitely them. I-I told mom and she said not to tell you, but I couldn’t not tell you when I’m the one who saw it!”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say a word.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

There was no lying to yourself, you had doubts about your best friend and your boyfriend. But you constantly brushed it off. He wouldn’t hurt you like that. Hell, she couldn’t hurt like that. Not after everything you had been through together.

But you had seen his call log by accident one time, he called her more than he did you. She face-timed him one time to ask his opinion about a dress she was going to buy while you were in the changing room. She had done a handful of things since your relationship with your boyfriend started that made you uneasy. If this was their first kiss, which was something you doubted, then they’ve both been emotionally attached to the other for far too long.

All those tender intimate moments, all those dates, throughout everything, he wasn’t faithful. Not emotionally, at least. None of those moments that you cherished meant anything to you anymore. He had played you. With none other than your best friend since middle school. You didn’t know who to be more mad at.

The thoughts of betrayal from someone who you considered a sister and the hurt of being cheated on made you nauseated.

So when the large warm hand on your face stroked your cheek again, you didn’t mind it. This was Corpse. Not your cheating boyfriend. Not your lying best friend. Corpse. And you knew that he would never hurt you.

“He’s been cheating on me for a while I think.” You mumbled against his sweatpants. “Maybe a couple months. I don’t know.”

Corpse furrowed his brows in thought. You had told him you were going to visit your boyfriend for your one year anniversary next week. “Weren’t you go-”

“Yeah.”

“And Bob’s been your friend since-”

“Yeah.” Your chin wobbled as you answered. You brought your arms up around Corpse’s thigh and hugged it. It was a strange position, but you didn’t care. He was so warm and nice and hugging him properly required more movement on your end than you were willing to do.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Corpse sighed and reached out to untangle your arms from his leg. He gently pulled you across the few inches of bed between you and sat you in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, immediately sobbing into his shoulder. “Do you want me to turn off the music?” You shook your head no against him and he chuckled before he solemnly sighed. “When did you find out?”

“When I came home.”

“But you came home hours ago. Have you been in here this whole time?” You nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were streaming, didn’t wanna interrupt.” You shrugged.

“y/n,” he sighed disappointedly, “you’re my best friend. I can end a stream if you need me.”

“Okay.” Your voice, broken and weak and tired, made him feel so guilty. You had been crying your heart out for over two hours just down the hall from where he was.

He gently grabbed you by your hips and tried to push you away, but you only held on tighter and whimpered. “I just wanna get you some water.”

“I don’t want water.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.” You whispered. “Please stay.”

Fuck. How could he say no to that?

So he stayed.

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpsehusband #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband fluff #corpse fanfiction #corpse fanfic #corpse fluff #gender neutral reader

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lyrical-panic · 3 years

Note

Hello! So here's my request:

The 1-A girls including reader are having a girls night in one of their dorms playing Minecraft (teaching Momo how to play for the first time), giving out study tips, eating snacks and watching movies, etc... When their in a topic about their crushes and reader shyly tells them it is Tenya Iida... While the girls are shocked and ask a lot of questions why iida much to reader whos not really liking the questions, the girls decided to help reader out by setting both iida and reader on a date by grabbing readers phone and texting iida, much to readers protest and what the girls don't know is that the boys are having a boy night at the common room too and doing the exact same thing, helping iida out to finally ask reader on a date.

so yeah, haha that's all and you can add your own ideas there and can this be a oneshot? I also want to see the perspective of iida if that't possible? I hope this is okay? thank you!! ☺

Took a few liberties, included some personal touches, I’m really happy with how this came out and I hope you are too!

Risks

Masterlist

Weekend nights in Heights Alliance were arguably the best.

Mr. Aizawa was more flexible about curfew on Friday and Saturday nights, so the class took those nights as opportunities to have slumber parties and late night get-togethers.

This was one such night. You, Ochaco, Tsu, Momo, Toru and Kyoka had gone to Mina’s dorm room with snacks and games in hand. Your hostess had offered up her wide selection of video games and her Netflix, Hulu, and Disney+ accounts. Toru had even come through with an impressive assortment of face masks, nail polish, and hair accessories. Needless to say, everyone was more than set for a night of careless fun.

“Wait, how do I craft something?” Mom held her controller out to Kyoka, brows pinched together.

“This button, here,” she took the controller, demonstrating by crafting an axe.

Upon realization that Momo had next to no knowledge of Minecraft, the party had abandoned its Super Smash Bros. tournament in favor of showing her the ropes. You’d vowed to help her make a simple house by the end of the night.

“Pro tip: make sure you collect all the same type of wood.” You suggested, eyes focused on the white stripes you were attempting to paint onto Tsuyu’s light green nails with some success.

“Yeah, unless it’s on purpose, like if you use a different wood for the roof or floor, it’s just gonna look like you hobbled it together in less than a minute.” Mina agreed, before promptly shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

Ochaco gasped playfully, swiping the bowl away. “Don’t eat all of it!”

“I’ll eat whatever I damn well please!” Mina retorted, making a grab for the snack as Ochaco floated it over to Toru.

“Okay guys, I can’t take it anymore.” The invisible girl grabbed the bowl out of the air. “We’re all together, hanging out with zero stress for the first time in months! Does anyone have anything juicy to share? Someone’s gotta have something!”

Kyoka rolled her eyes. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I didn’t come to gossip.”

“This class is a pretty tight-knit group, ribbit. Nothing really happens that we don’t all know about.” Tsu pointed out.

“Okay then. Crushes.” Mina prompted.

“What about them?” Momo asked.

“Who’s got ‘em?”

There was a moment of silence. You noticed how a few pairs of eyes flicked to Ochaco, who had gonna very red and very quiet. You sighed, musing to yourself about the things you did for friendship.

“I, uh, I kinda like Iida?”

You hated how you phrased it like a question. You hated how you mitigated the confession with the word “kinda”. You hated that silly, totally inadequate word “like”. Your feelings for Iida went beyond a simple crush. You’d had them for him for months now, you were long past the “like” phase. You were head-over-heels in love.

Toru gasped dramatically. “Really? Iida?”

Ochaco smiled at you, gratitude evident in her eyes. “You two would make a sweet couple.”

“What do you like about him?” Mina asked excitedly. “When did you fall for him? Are you gonna confess?”

“Take it easy,” Kyoka chuckled lightly.

You also laughed, albeit uneasily. You were beginning to regret not keeping your mouth shut. “Okay, I’ll take those one at a time. He’s kind and attentive, and he’s very loyal. I think I realized that I liked him a few weeks after the sports fest, and absolutely not.”

“Why don’t you want to tell him?” Momo asked, pursing her lips. “I think he’d appreciate the honesty.”

“Be that as it may, I don’t wanna make things weird between us or potentially ruin our friendship.” You explained “I don’t wanna jeopardize what we have now by confessing.”

“Plus, Iida doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’s want to date someone, ribbit.” Tsu put in, examining her newly painted nails. “He’s very serious. He’d probably see it as a distraction, these are really pretty, (Y/N), thank you.”

You smiled weakly at your frog-like friend as Toru threw a piece of popcorn at her head. “Tsu!”

“No, she’s right.” You sighed heavily, motioning for the popcorn bowl, intending to drown your sorrows and maybe yourself in it.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” Momo patted your back sympathetically as she passed the bowl down. “I can’t imagine how frustrating it is.”

You hummed in agreement as you shoveled the snack into your mouth. “Whatever. It sucks, bur I’ll get over it.”

“Like hell you will!” Mina snapped “Ochaco: our romantically challenged friend’s phone, if you please?”

Ochaco dutifully and bemusedly took your phone from Mina’s bedside table and handed it over to her.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, suddenly on high alert.

You were ignored. Mina instead took your hand, and placed your thumb over the home button on your phone, unlocking it.

“Seriously, what are you doing?” Kyoka asked.

“Texting Iida.”

It took you a few seconds to process her words and what they meant. Once you had, though, you made a sudden grab for the phone. “Oh no you’re not!”

“Chillax, I’m not gonna send him anything embarrassing.” Mina swatted your hand away as she scooted safely out of your reach. “I’m just gonna suggest that you two go out sometime and heavily imply that it’ll be a date.”

“Now hold on,” Momo cut in, setting down her controller. ��We shouldn’t be interfering. This is between (Y/N) and Iida.”

“Yeah, if (Y/N) wants to ask him out, they’ll do it themselves, ribbit.” Tsu chimed in.

Mina sighed, slumping. “I know you’re both right, but I can’t just let them wallow! Iida really likes you, (Y/N)!”

“Oh yeah?” You raised both eyebrows.

“Yeah! He’s a lot softer with you then with anyone else!”

“He does tend to let you get away with things,” Kyoka admitted. “Remember the other day when you were sitting on your desk? The guy didn’t even bat an eye.”

“He also seems like he talks to you more than he does the rest of us!” Toru pointed out.

“Plus he worries about you more than the rest of us!” Ochaco added on.

“He looks more relaxed around you.” Tsuyu threw in.

“Sometimes when we have class representative meetings, he’ll offhandedly mention you.” Momo reported thoughtfully. “He’ll tell me about something you said or did that he found funny or endearing. It’s actually pretty adorable the way he talks about you. It’s like his whole face lights up.”

You were quiet for a very long moment. It was too good to be true. You liked playing it safe. You kept your cards close to your chest until you were absolutely sure you had the wining hand. And if you’d learnt anything in your hero education, it was that sometimes you needed to take a risk.

“Can I have my phone, please?”

Mina tossed it to you. Without another word, you navigated to your messages, and typed something out quickly. Before you could reconsider, you took a risk.

You hit send.

. . .

This isn’t actually all that bad.

When Kirishima and Kaminari had suggested a “boys’ night”, Tenya had been apprehensive at best. He was all for class bonding activities, but what was the point if it was only a fraction of their group?

“(L/N) and the girls are having a sleepover, so we may as well something ourselves.” Sero had pointed out.

Despite his skepticism, Tenya found himself thoroughly enjoying himself. After admitting he’d never seen a Marvel movie, Midoriya had immediately logged the common room TV into his Disney+ account and began the first ever 1-A Marvel movie marathon.

“Ugh, does this mean we have to watch Age of Ultron?” Ojiro groaned “That one sucks.”

“Yeah, but at some point I’m going to make Iida watch Wandavision.” Midoriya replied “Ultron is important to understanding it, sucky as it may be.”

“That’s not gonna be for a while if we’re watching every single Marvel movie, though.” Sato chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re definitely gonna need more than one night for this shit,” Kaminari chortled “Wandavision not withstanding.”

Tenya smiled, not quite following but listening all the same. He suddenly felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

(L/N): Random question. Want to go out and get dinner tomorrow, just the two of us?

It was indeed a random question. He had no qualms about spending time with (L/N) though. Even if it was just the two us them. Especially if it’s just the two of us. Tenya quickly shook the thought away though, feeling he’s cheeks flare.

Me: That would be great! Do you have a time and place in mind?

(L/N): Would 6 be ok? As for the place… would you be up for a surprise?

Tenya hesitated. Usually he’s say no. He liked everything to be perfectly planed to a T. But something about (L/N) made him want to be spontaneous. They made him want to take risks. So he decided to do precisely that. He threw caution into the wind as he sent his response.

Me: 6 is more than ok, and I’m always up for a surprise if it’s with you.

Tenya cringed immediately after hitting send. The instant regret was crushing and depressing. He wished he could be honest about his feelings, about (L/N) without overthinking every move he made.

Oh well. What’s done is done. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, praying you wouldn’t respond. However, his plea went ignored a minute later when he felt his phone vibrate yet again.

Biting back a groan, Tenya opened his texts, inwardly bracing himself.

(L/N): Awesome! I’ll meet you at 6 in the common room tomorrow, then. Can’t wait! ❤️

He gaped. That tiny red emoji wormed not his brain and burned itself behind his eyes until that was all he could see. He barely even registered the rest of the message.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Iida?” Kaminari, never one to understand personal space, leaned over to glance at the class rep’s phone phone before he could angle it away. “You sly little- IIDA HAS A DATE!”

“No I- that’s not- Kaminari!” Tenya sputtered incoherently, arms flailing. “That was entirely inappropriate. You shouldn’t look at other people’s devices without their permission. It’s rude, demeaning, and an invasion of privacy!”

“Forget that, what’s this about a date?” Sero leaned in on Kaminari’s other side.

“Iida and (L/N) were texting,” Kaminari announced “They asked him out to dinner, he said yes, and they send a heart emoji.”

“What color?” Aoyama demanded, squinting.

“Red.”

“Oh my,” Aoyama leaned back in his seat, a coy smirk playing across his lips.

Sero chuckled, leaning across Kaminari’s lap to pat Tenya on the arm. “You lucky bastard.”

The blue haired boy brushed his hand away, bristling. “Not that my personal activities are any of your concern, but it’s not a date. We’re just going to get something to eat.”

“I’m not an expert or anything, but I don’t think many people go out one-on-one for dinner if it’s platonic.” Midoriya pointed out.

“Yeah, plus, that emoji says a lot.” Kirishima added “(L/N) clearly means this to be a date. If you don’t feel the same way about them, you need to tell them.”

“You don’t want to go on a date with (L/N)?” Todoroki asked, raising an eyebrow “I would’ve thought you’d be happy for an opportunity like that.”

“See! Even Todoroki can see you’ve got it bad for them!” Sato exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the confused heterochromic boy.

Tenya ignored his overly-excited classmates. He flipped back through his conversation with (L/N), staring at every text until he’d inadvertently memorized them all.

Me: Is this a date?

. . .

“So much for subtly, I guess.” Kyoka remarked.

“Subtly gets you nowhere with Iida!” Ochaco insisted “You have to be upfront with him!”

“But I sent him a heart,” You groaned for the fourth time.

“Well, there’s no sense in bemoaning it now.” Momo reasoned.

“It was a calculated risk.” Toru admitted, an undercut of worry in her voice.

“A risk, huh?” You chuckled humorlessly “I seem to be taking a lot of those tonight.”

Ding!

Seven pairs of eyes darted to your overturned phone at the same moment. No one moved an inch.

“Well,” Tsu nudged you “are you going to look at it?”

You gulped, shakily taking the device. The girl’s gathered around you. As you opened your text messages.

Iida: Is this a date?

“No backing down now!” Ochaco squealed, gripping your shoulders tightly and shaking you.

“Go, go, go, go, go!” Mina bounced on her knees like it was a sporting event.

You took a deep breath, then texted back.

. . .

(L/N): That was the idea, lol. It doesn’t have to be if you don’t want it to be, tho

Tenya pursed his lips, showing the response to Midoriya.

“C’mon, Iida.” His friend chuckled lightly “Just tell them the truth.”

The truth. He did want it to be a date, but a simple “I want to go on a date with you” didn’t seem sufficient. It wouldn’t do justice to how he really felt.

Tenya had already taken a risk tonight, so what was one more? But knowing what he now knew about your feelings, it didn’t seem quite so scary anymore.

Me: I’d love nothing more than to go on a date with you, (L/N). Truth be told, I’ve wanted to for a while now, I just haven’t had the courage to ask you myself. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. ❤️

#mha #bnha #iida #tenya #tenya iida #iida x reader #tenya x reader #tenya iida x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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petri808 · 3 years

Text

@thenaluarchive movie night. Just a quicky ficlet 🙃

Being stuck in her apartment for Christmas had to be the worst part of this whole year, and Lucy couldn’t help but log onto Zoom with a sense of longing. For the last 3 years, they’d spent the evening in a Friendsmas Eve together with good food, drinks, and a movie to celebrate the holidays. Thanks to the pandemic, it was agreed they should hold off till things were safer. So that’s when her best friend Levy suggested a zoom party where they’d all log in and could still stream a movie together.

“Lucy!!” Levy screamed. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Yeah, me too!” Lucy smiled back at all the familiar faces already logged on. “Hey everyone!” Ten others were already joined in, and most of them were friends from their college days. But there were a couple of faces she didn’t recognize. So she texts Levy on the side asking who they were.

‘Oh sorry lol. I’ll introduce you.’ Levy texted back.

Back on the video now, Levy spoke up, calling on the two unknown people to listen up. “Guys, I wanna introduce you to my bestie Lucy.”

“Lucy, so the guy with pink hair is Natsu, he’s Gajeels cousin. And the other one is Gray, he’s Natsus roommate and works with Gajeel at the shop. Say hi guys!”

“Nice to meet you Lucy!” They both respond.

“Nice to meet you as well!”

As the director or the nights event, Levy put a link in the chat for a survey of movies for the group to choose from and the top two choices would be streamed. The friends talk amongst each other and catch up. Some were drinking or eating, others played a holiday trivia game. It was difficult at times to keep up or figure out who was saying what, but despite the trepidation Lucy had in the beginning, it was nice to see this forum wasn’t keeping anyone down on Christmas Eve.

Lucy enjoyed seeing her friends again, especially since she hadn’t seen any of them in the flesh since March. But it was the newer addition that had her interests most peaked. She never knew Gajeel had a cousin, and why hadn’t Levy introduced them sooner?! She texts the woman to keep their messages private.

‘Omg Gajeels cousin is so cute!’

‘Really? 😂 I guess I never looked at him that way.’

‘Is he single?! 😶’

‘😶 yes. You should talk to him.’

‘But idk nothin bout him.’

‘Lemme help u with that 😛’

‘?!’

Suddenly, Lucy sees that Levy had stuck her into a break away room on Zoom.

‘Levy?!’

“Hello? How’d I get in here?” Natsu questioned.

‘😳 LEVY!’

“Hi, Natsu,” Lucy answered, “um Levy thought we might like a chance to talk... y-you know without being interrupted.”

‘😙 enjoy your chat!’ Levy teased. ‘Dw he also said he’s gonna kill me later 🙃😘 y’all will thank me someday.’

‘OMG LEVY!!!’

“Oh,” Natsu laughed nervously. “How nice of her.”

She could see the slight blush on his cheeks and that instantly alighted one on hers. Oh, boy! Awkward! “I um,” Lucy tucked her hair behind her ears, the movement caught immediately by Natsu’s eyes from what she noticed. “So, you’re Gajeel’s cousin?”

“Yeah. When I moved to this town, I stayed with them a couple months till Gray and I found an apartment.”

“What brought you to Crocus?”

“A job offer. What about you? Are you from here Lucy?”

“Actually no, I came here for college. That’s how I met Levy. Then I stayed for a job.”

“What kind of job?”

“I work for the magazine Sorcerer Weekly.”

“That’s pretty cool!”

“Your turn Natsu, what do you do for a living?”

“Firefighter. But I’m taking EMT classes too, cause that’ll give me a higher certification rating...”

The longer they talked, the easier it was for Lucy to relax. It seemed once those first-time jitters wore away, Natsu’s true personality shone through. He was quite talkative, she mused, but sweet and very passionate about his job. The man also had a silly side that was endearing. Course, the bonus from all she could see through this video, Natsu was a total hunk!

Twenty minutes into the conversation, Lucy received another message from Levy letting her know they’ll be starting the movie. But before she could reply—

“Levy said they’re starting the movie.”

“Oh, yeah, I just got the message too, I’m—.”

Natsu looked sheepishly away from the screen, “I kinda rather keep talking to you instead.”

Lucy’s cheeks flushed again. “Me too. You’re really easy to talk to.”

“Would it be too forward to say... you’re really pretty Lucy.”

“No,” her voice softened with a hint of embarrassment, and you’re not so bad yourself Natsu.”

‘Maybe we’ll catch the second one,’ Lucy replied to Levy. To which she received a wink emote in reply.

The conversation continued where it had left off before Levy’s interruption with a game of 20 Questions. They learned simple stuff about each other’s likes and dislikes, siblings or none, to bucket list dreams. It also turned out that Natsu and Grays apartment was less than three blocks away from hers.

“Being stuck on a video chat kind of sucks,” Lucy blurts out. “It would be so much nicer if this was face to face.”

“Well...” Natsu leaned in. “I could just come over. I mean, you live close by so it would only take me about 10 minutes.”

“You’d... do that?”

Natsu tapped his chin and grinned, “lemme think. Be stuck with my roommate or a cute girl on Christmas Eve? It’s a really tough choice to make.”

“Pfft,” Lucy laughed. “You’re such a weirdo.”

“Well? Do you want me to come over or not?”

“Hmm, lemme think,” she mocked and tapped her chin, “be alone or stuck with a cute guy on Christmas Eve? That’s a really tough choice to make.”

“Now who’s the weirdo?!” Natsu laughed too. “Will you just give me your address?!”

Once she gave him the information, she logged out of the break out room, and he completely out of the party. When she joined the rest of the group, they asked what happened to Natsu. “You’ll see,” Lucy smiled and turned the video off until he arrived. They could still hear her and she could still hear them.

But Gray cut in and ruined the surprise, “that dork is heading to her place.”

“What?!” Everyone immediately ignored the movie and bogged out the audio to flood Lucy with questions. But she wasn’t responding.

“Come on guys!” Levy cut them off. “Give the woman time to breathe!”

A few minutes later, Natsu arrived at her apartment with a gift of wine.

“Aww, thanks, but you didn’t have to bring anything.”

“It would be rude not to,” he smiled back.

Lucy’s heart skipped a beat. The man was even cuter in person! And such manners! Oh, yeah, she was done for. “They um,” she gestured to the living room where her laptop was still sitting, “they’re waiting for us. Gray spilled the beans.”

“Don’t worry I’ll get him back,” Natsu grinned and winked.

They sit on the couch and turn the video back on, instantly gaining a roar of whoa’s and light teasing from mostly the guys.

“Smooth move man,” Gray teased his roommate. “Couldn’t even wait till morning.”

“No need to hate on me.” Natsu quipped back and put his arm around Lucy’s shoulders. “You’re just jealous cause your girl is out of town.”

That set off laughter from all around the virtual room. Even Lucy giggled despite her body heating up from the close contact. “Omg you’re so bad,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry, we do this all the time to each other.”

Things settle back down in the group once this Christmas twist had run its course. Everyone in the group was simply elated to see two of their friends happy on this Covid Christmas Eve. After the first movie, Levy streamed the second one. It was the classic Scrooged. You simply couldn’t have a Christmas without watching it at least once.

But by the time the movie was ending, Lucy had started to doze off on Natsu’s shoulder.

“If you’re tired, I can head home.”

“Stay,” she mumbled, “nice and warm.”

Natsu blushed. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

They bid their friends goodnight and merry Christmas before shutting off Zoom and closing the laptop. Natsu turned back to Lucy, but she’d fallen asleep again. He hadn’t planned on staying the night, but she seemed so content to stay cuddled up against him, that he just didn’t have the heart to leave. So, he turned off the lamp and shifted their bodies to both fit on the couch, tucking her close, and kissing her forehead before settling in too.

Lucy breathed out a soft sigh as her face burrowed against his chest. She was only pretending to be asleep to see how Natsu would react, but his response told her everything she needed to know. Covid really made their lives miserable this year, but at least it hadn’t ruined her Christmas after all.

#nalu #nalu winter wonderland #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu ficlet #nalu fan fiction #nalu fan fic #nalu au #Natsu x Lucy

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obaby-me · 4 years

Note

hi again! can i ask a scenario where the mc is not a virgin and they meet her "first" man? (like, ex friend with benefits?)

This is going to be less about the loss of your virginity and more of a focus of your previous lover. That you have had sex before them means little to the boys. It is with whom they focus on.

Lucifer

When Lucifer had been told that he would need to run an errand in the human, in your old hometown, he hadn’t imagined taking you for a visit to be as stressful as it was.

Initially, it had been lovely, strolling through the streets as you lead him around and introduced him to the various streets and stores and shared with him your memories of each with family and with friends.

One friend in particular seemed to jump into every memory. To say he was a little jealous that this friend had more memories with you than he did would be an understatement. But Lucifer had barely known you a year, it was to be expected, so he swallowed it down in to deepest pit of him. He wanted to just enjoy his time with you and not constantly wonder.

And then you met up and introduced Lucifer to said friend, and Lucifer’s felt that tense ball in his gut rise into his chest.

They were a little more familiar with you than he expected any friend to be. Arms slung around your shoulders and waist and hugs that lingered a little long. You two spoke freely with one another, catching up on old times and laughing at inside jokes that were a little more flirtatious in nature than he was comfortable with.

But what got him to snap was the cavalier whisper that was far too loud to be subtle from your friend, “how you been sleeping out there on your own? You been missing me?”

The way you looked away with a furrowed brow, and wrapped your arms tightly around you spoke volumes of how uncomfortable you were on the subject, but it seems your friend took it to be a sign that you were just playing shy. A hand that attempted to clasp yours was quickly ripped away by the Avatar of Pride, with a glare so terrifying, it felt like an army was parading over your friend’s grave.

“W-well, you know you can always give me a call if you ever do, just like old times.” Your friend gave you a wink, and exited quickly, leaving the two of you in an awkward sort of silence.

“An ex?” Lucifer coughed, clearing the tenseness in the air.

“Of a sort. We were never official. Just a call when you’re looking for a good time kind of friend,” you explained.

Lucifer gives a small noise acknowledging he’d heard you but his head is another world as he considers your interactions with your friend. He’s uneasy.

It’s not that you had a friend with benefits situation previously that he’s concerned about. Asmo has a novel’s worth. But is it still a thing, even now?

A question sits on his tongue that he refuses to ask. Instead he offers that you take him to the next destination to show him around the town.

“I don’t call for that anymore,” you say in assurance as you slip your hand into his. “I-if that matters to you.”

Lucifer smiles softly. He’d never admit that it does, but he’s thankful you know him enough to answer his thoughts for him.

Mammon

“A high school reunion is not so dangerous you need to be this on guard,” you laugh placing a hand on Mammon’s arm. Maybe he was overplaying his role a little, he thought to himself. But embarrassed to be called out on it he gives his usual excuse, “I’m your first man, aren’t I? I gotta keep ya safe.”

You shush him between giggles. “You know how that sounds!” He grins at you in return.

He knows how it sounds. He knows the impression it gives to others—and he likes it. Like he’s special, and important to you—your number one.

“You’re the first? That what you’ve been told? That’s a laugh. I’ll have you know I was the first.” A voice sounds from behind him.

“What?” Mammon shouts, louder than intended, whipping his head around in surprise at the interrupting eavesdropper. “And who the hell are you?”

“Just an old friend,” grins a vaguely familiar face. The way the word friend is pronounced clearly implies something else. It makes Mammon’s stomach churn.

It takes him a moment of scrutinizing and attempting to match the face to a name. While the name escapes him, Mammon recognizes the smug mug from older photos you shared with him the night before—reminiscing on old friends, teachers, clubs and dances during your preparation for your reunion.

This was a frequent offender, present in damn near every photo—one of the very reasons Mammon even came in the first place.

“It’s been awhile. This your boyfriend?”

“Y-yeah, actually!” Mammon quickly announces, looping an arm into yours and puffing himself up a little. He was laughed at, even by you, but you didn’t deny him. Actually, were you cuddling in closer?

“Too bad. We haven’t talked in awhile, but the arrangement’s always still open on my end for you. I’m always just a text away, yeah?” There was a flirtatious wink to which you rolled your eyes in response. But your face flushes in a way that catches Mammon’s attention. He couldn’t decide if you were bashful or angry.

You open your mouth to end the subject—hell, this conversation, but Mammon interjects, curious.

“What arrangement?”

“Best friends with the best benefits kind of arrangement.” Laughs your old friend, wiggling eyebrows up and down into the air to really drive the point home.

“W-what—“ Mammon stutters, the news catching him off guard.

“Well, we’re not best friends anymore, and there are no more benefits available,” you say flatly.

“Reunions are for reconnecting. I’m just offering—“

“You can keep your offer to yourself.” You huff, taking a sip of your drink. The way your arm tightens around Mammon’s tells him it was time to leave.

“Don’t be like that. Are you still mad about—”

“Yeah, actually, I am.” Your disgust quite clear in your tone.

Saving you the trouble of having to argue your way out of the conversation, Mammon drags you to the exit for some fresh air.

It takes you some time to let the steam out of your system, but when you finally have, Mammon tentatively tries to broach the subject, his curiosity killing him.

Unfortunately, subtlety is not his strongest suite.

“So, your friend back there, was uh,“ he starts.

“Yeah, my first. Technically.” You tell him with a shameful groan. “Turned a good friend into a complete shithead though.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Mammon says with distaste.

Laughing aloud and dropping your head against him, you hum. “You know you’re my first man in all the categories that actually count, right?”

“R-right. Of course I know that. I’m the GREAT Mammon. I’m obviously number one to you in lots of other ways!”

“That’s right,” you assure him, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Number one right here,” you whisper, pulling one of his hands to your chest over your heart.

Leviathan

“Hey! Wasn’t that account last logged into like years ago?” Levi asks, pointing to a name on your friends list you hadn’t seen online in ages.

You grimace at the name. You had forgotten to remove them given that you hadn’t played this particular game in awhile. Just as you are about to delete the name a message appears.

heyyy. been awhile

“Whose that?” Levi asks curiously. “Do they wanna hop in with us?”

“I don’t really want to ask,” you say, a look of distaste flashing across your features, as another message dings.

how you been

“They bad at the game or something?” Levi asks with amusement.

“Actually plays quite well,” you admit. “I just think it would be awkward if we were to play together again.”

i been missing u

do u wanna hang

“Oh, are they uh, like... an ex, or something?” Asks Levi with wide eyes as the messages appear on the screen.

“Or something,” you say shyly to a curious looking Levi. “We were... we weren’t official. We were just friends, but like, friends that had sex every once in awhile.”

“O-oh!” Levi shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his face heating red. Partially due to the subject matter, partially at a irritation born from jealousy.

“We used to be pretty close. We were each other’s firsts. But pretty soon, every ‘heyyy’ turned into ‘u wanna hang’ and then ‘u feelin’ like a fuk?’” Your irritation is evident in your voice.

As predicted, the very next message you receive is,

or maybe smth else?? ;)

“We weren’t really friends by the end of it. So I just stopped responding. Every once in awhile I get another heyyy.” You sigh, rolling your eyes at the message that proved your point.

“Just remove them from your friends list!” Levi hisses, glaring at the message filled screen.

“I was going to!” You assure him. Proof quickly following as you selected the option to remove from friends list.

Levi exhales a sigh of relief, to which you giggle. Hoping to console him, you offer a quick kiss on his cheek. But for Levi, it’s not enough. He pulls you into him for just a little bit of something else.

Satan

With a bag full of books swinging in one hand, and yours clasped tight in the other, Satan doesn’t think there’s anything in all the realms that could possible put a damper on his mood today.

But a stop for a small social event proves him wrong.

An old friend had given you a call to meet up while you were back in your hometown, and you had agreed—after all, it had been a couple of years since you two had last seen each other.

Knocking on the apartment door, the Satan shifts uncomfortably in place.

“Don’t worry so much,” you reassure him with a smile. “You always make a wonderful first impression.”

But Satan is uncertain. This is your friend of the human realm. The Devildom, he relates far easier to, but here he is very foreign and he worries he might miss a custom or two. Do you feel this way in the Devildom?

The door opens to a rather excitable human, eager to see you, and throwing arms around you in a display of affection.

“It’s so lovely to see you again!”

“I have missed you!” You respond in kind.

Your friend shifts their gaze to Satan and he can see their face fall a little. Has he already done something wrong?

“Oh, I didn’t think you were bringing a friend along.”

“This is Satan.”

“That’s an interesting name.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Satan says quickly introducing himself with a handshake.

“Likewise.” Though Satan knows already that isn’t true for your friend who seems disappointed at his presence.

The rest of the visit isn’t unusual, but there seems to be quite emphasis on the relationship between you and Satan.

“So, this is your boyfriend?”

“Yes! We’ve been together a few months now.”

“Real serious, are you?”

“Yes,” Satan responds with a nod.

“I see,” your friend nods solemnly.

By the time the visit has completed, Satan knows he’s not well liked, but doesn’t understand why. You seemed to have picked up on it though.

“I’m so sorry about that.”

“Sorry about what?”

“About my friend. I think their request for a visit wasn’t so much a visit as it was, well, a booty call.”

“A what?” Satan asked stunned. Not by the concept, but that someone would ask that of you.

“It means—“

“I know what it means. Just, why would—“

“Well, we used to be a thing before. Not like, a couple. Just a sort of friends with benefits sort of situation.” You explain, looking sheepish.

“You used to—“

“Yes. It started with just wanting to try sex out for the first time, and it just sort of continued for awhile.”

Satan pauses to consider this. “That would explain the looks. Jealousy,” Satan said with a prideful smirk, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you to him.

You laugh and nod, leaning against him while you continue your stroll through your old neighborhood.

Asmodeus

“Who’s the cutie in all your pictures?” Asmo asks you one day, as you lay out on the couch and over top of him.

You’re resting your head within his lap, and Asmo idly runs one hand through your hair, while the other busies itself on his D.D.D.

He’s been flipping through your old photos, curious of the human life his little lover has led before him.

You stop your browsing through suggested videos on Deviltube to look up at him.

“Hm?”

“This one!” Asmo clarifies, zooming in on a face in a photo you had taken just before your move to the Devildom. “Nearly every group photo you’ve taken has this cutie in it! A lover perhaps?” He probes with interest.

“Yes and no. Just a friend,” you admit a little bashful, “Always, just a friend. But sometimes, well,” you trailed off and shrugged your shoulder a little. “We, y’know.”

“Have sex.” Asmo finishes for you, amused. Given all the ways he’s loved you, and all the talks you’ve had together, that you would still blush was endearing.

“This photo was just before you came,” Asmo notes. “Were you still together just before coming here?”

“Yes, sort of. We only rarely did so,” you explain. “Like, special occasions, and when we were feeling especially lonely. I mean, we were each other’s firsts. It just felt comfortable to do.” You say with a melancholic smile. Apparently the memories were good ones.

Asmo should be very happy for you. You have someone to have a good time with without the strings of romance, someone to experiment with, someone who could play on a kink that perhaps you hadn’t been able to find in another person (until Asmo, of course). Asmo himself practically invented the concept of a fuck buddy, and encouraged it for everyone. He’s always supported or encouraged others to enjoy the sexual experience without all the confining social rules and obligations and expectations that come with relationships.

But the Avatar of Lust had never been in love before. He was now.

The anxiety that gripped his airways was unlike any other worries he’d had before. Jealousy is not a new concept. The idea that no one might want him, like him, love him, was a constant fear. He built his entire life making absolutely sure that someone around him always did.

But it had never mattered to him who. Just as long as someone did.

Now it does. Now it matter more than anything that you did.

“Sounds like someone you’re quite fond of. Like they have a special place in your heart.” He murmurs, tracing the contours of your sweet face with his fingers.

“A place. But not a special place,” you say tilting your face to catch his fingers for a gentle kiss. “Only you exist within that space. No one else is allowed there.”

Asmo giggles, your reassurance settling him. “But of course, who could possibly compare?”

Beelzebub

“I’d prefer if you didn’t,” Beel hears you say from your bedroom. Your door is slightly ajar, and your voice is clear.

“That’s fine. Delete my number, I don’t care.” You sound tired more than agitated, though certainly the expression denotes otherwise. Tired of the conversation, of the caller, and from the lack of sleep. Beel doesn’t expect anyone else to be awake when he does his nightly kitchen raids.

“You don’t need to know why, just that I said no.” He hears your footsteps coming towards the door and Beel takes a few steps back to pretend he’s been strolling past.

But you seem to have caught on that he was there. You point to his looming shadow that had come in through the door that was his give away. Sheepishly he enters, and finds his spot on the bed. Shifting his legs so that you could plant yourself between them and lay back against him, he wraps his arms around you. He loves holding you like this. He knows you love it too. It is the most common way either of you are ever seen together—it’s comfortable as much as it is comforting, which you seem to sorely need right now.

He kisses your hair gently, softly, soundlessly so as not to disturb your phone call.

What is it? Is it cause you got someone now?

Beel hears from over the phone. He’s not trying to eavesdrop, he tells himself, he just so happens to be overhearing it because you’re cuddled so close to him.

“Doesn’t matter whether I do or not. I don’t want to. Not now. Not later.”

What we have is special—

“There is no ‘we have’. That was the entire point, that was your point when we stopped over a year ago. No strings attached, remember?”

But we’ve been together since the first. Our firsts!

“Yes, and that was nice then, and isn’t now. Stop asking me!” You’re becoming riled up now, and Beel doesn’t like to see you this way. He kisses the hand that holds your phone and gently tugs it away. You don’t put up any fight, and he hangs it up.

He gives you gentle kisses down your cheek, tilting your head up to him so that he can kiss your lips, softly, gently. Little peppered pecks to let you know he is here, he loves you, you are safe. You meet every little kiss with one of your own, a thank you for each one you receive.

Your phone lights up, indicating another call is coming in though it remains silent.

“Block his number,” Beel mutters. “But not right now.”

You hum happily against his kisses, and simply turn the phone screen down.

Belphegor

Belphie knows when you’re upset and you’re hiding something. You sigh in a way you think he can’t hear, but he can feel it in the way you breathe lying in his arms.

“What’s the matter?” he mumbles without bothering to open his eyes.

“Nothing,” you say, sounding rather surprised that he had noticed at all. He smirks, loving the way he knows you so well.

Slowly he encircles your waist and tugs you even closer to him. He hums as he kisses your neck, knowing the overwhelming affection will persuade you to him: either because you feel comfortable, or because it annoys you. It depends on your mood, it depends on the day. Either way, it works, and he gets kisses. He doesn’t mind.

You giggle but try to pull yourself away, not in the mood.

“It’s nothing important,” you clarify. “Just received a text from someone I never thought I would again.”

“Someone good, or someone bad?” Belphie asks.

“Was good, now, I don’t know.” You say with a sigh as you turn to face him. “Was a good friend. Were very close for a time. Very close.” You emphasized. “It just sort of fell apart after, well...”

Belphie, eyed you, patiently waiting for more. He wasn’t one to rush you as you tried to gather your words. Instead he trailed fingers over your arms, busying himself with how soft your skin was.

“I just didn’t end up feeling the same way, you know? I suppose it shouldn’t have been a surprise given all the sex, but—“

“Sex?” Belphie asked, his eyes snapping to lock on to yours.

“Yes. Like I said, we were very close.” You repeated, punctuating very close again, as if Belphie was suppose to have somehow understood the connotation the first time. “Was even my first,” you sigh, sounding disappointed.

“We had a no-strings attached thing agreement to keep it very casual.” You said shyly averting your gaze. “But apparently, feelings that weren’t there, suddenly were. Not on my end, but—“ You sighed again.

“So what’s the text say?” Belphie asked.

“Just hey.”

“You gonna say anything back?” Belphie asked quietly, his insides in turmoil at the thought of you reconnecting with, with... a sex buddy.

You have me, he argues without words—his hands drift to your waist to pull you against him, where he grinds gently.

Catching his concerns, you smile and drape a leg over him as he begins a grind.

“No,” you hum, tossing your phone on to the pillow behind you to cuddle into your needy boyfriend. “I don’t need anyone else,” you assure him, your mood shifting now that your mind no longer fretted over an old lover. Time to focus on your current one.

250 notes · View notes

stutterfly · 4 years

Text

Swipe Right 02 | Crosstalk | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst [later on], humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 10.2K

Last time on SR01: Namjoon introduced you to his friends and you find yourself absorbed into their little group rather quickly. While on your way to a Halloween party hosted at Jimin’s beautiful condo, you admit to your best friend Jennie that you have a crush on the sweet, shy, nerdy Jungkook. This just happens to be the same night he reveals his true nature: fuckboy. Now that’s just embarrassing, isn’t it?

Tags: Fuckboy Jungkook, let’s play some drinking games, dirty jokes, innuendos, friendship feels, jealousy, flashing, sexual tension, dumbBitch reader is drinking her dumbBitchjuice tonight, Tae makes things weird for half a sec, hint of foot fetish?, flirting with Hobi, flirting with Jin, embarrassedJoon who is also a mediator part time, tsundere softYoongi, Jimin is a traitorous snake who lives for the drama, Jungkook is like the kid pulling the pigtails of the girl he likes, tiniest glimpse at softboyeJK underneath

CW: excessive drinking, filthy language

Series: Activate your SIMCard Fic: Swipe Right (2/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost. masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It's been months since the fiasco with Jungkook. You do your best to avoid any opportunity to hang with the group in a stationary setting when he’s present, but he’s kind of an unavoidable obstacle at this point. Pissed doesn’t begin to cover your feelings towards him and hurt doesn’t quite do it either. You’re angry about the things he did, the things he said, the way he covered up his true self, but most of all, you’re furious that your feelings didn’t just evaporate with the shift in his persona.

You thought time would heal everything, but so far it’s only turned you bitter about the whole thing. He still smells so fucking good. He’s still got a body like the weightlifting champ he is. He’s still dorky and funny in ways you wouldn’t expect a tool of his calibre to demonstrate. But he’s also a player and a crass asshole. A crasshole. Has he ever stayed with the same girl for more than a few days? You’d wager a confident sum of money that he never has.

Even though you hate his guts, your brain still finds ways to remind you that even if he’s a dick, he’s a dick you’re still attracted to. He’s the kind of dick you suck one night after getting drunk on cheap beer, and in the light of day you are disgusted with everything about it. So don’t get drunk and don’t suck that dick. Easy peasy, especially since fury overtakes you any time you look at him.

Pissed at him? That doesn’t cover it. Pissed at yourself? That’s closer, but it's still not quite all-encompassing. It’s some sort of culmination between the two that has you absolutely livid with the entire situation any time you think about it. He made you feel like a fool. You genuinely liked the person you thought he was, and he embarrassed you. That made not talking to him the way you did when you thought he had the emotional capacity of an actual decent human being hurt even more. At least you know now that he’s got more in common with a lifeless, unfeeling rock.

Not that he hasn’t tried to get you to talk to him. He has, texting you jokes, sending articles on upcoming game titles, spamming invites to a party on xbox live any time you log on, making a point to stand next to you, interrupting all of your conversations with an obnoxious “Hi, Princess!” and pestering you until you acknowledge him. Thankfully Namjoon has kept him from sitting next to you when you carpool, whether it be for dancing, dinner, karaoke, or any other external hangouts. Nevertheless, he still finds a way to annoy you despite the barriers in his path, and you are ready to claw his eyes out at a moment’s notice.

To keep your mind off how your last crush, well, crushed you and continues to let you down, you’ve been downloading and trying out a few different dating apps. You figure it’s time to find someone to connect with, and this is definitely how people do it these days, but your experience has been less than stellar. Jennie helped you set up your profiles and mentioned it in passing to Namjoon, mistakenly believing you told your other bestie about it. He's been teasing you about it every week since, but has been sworn to silence around the others under fear of you telling everyone about the time you caught him making out with a couch pillow.

He doesn't crash on your couch anymore.

Ever since Hoseok and Yoongi moved into the apartment down the hall, he's spent more evenings on their comfy sectional than you can count, but always after binging Kung Fu movies and bringing gratuitous amounts of takeout over your place. You’re grateful for the solitude so you can attempt to converse with strangers via text — maybe even flirt a little. Most of your conversations have become stagnant, but there’s been one guy texting you back and forth for a month now. You’re waiting on him to ask you out since you’re too much of a chickenshit to make the first move.

Now, as you walk down the hall with Namjoon, he elbows your ribs. “So... how’s your Jay-Jay?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Jason is fine.”

“He text you this week?” he asks, stopping in front of the apartment door.

Kind of.

“Mm-hmm!” Your reply is overly enthusiastic and it makes him suspicious.

“Did you text him first?” he questions, pausing before his knuckles touch the door.

Yes. But only because I saw a meme I could use as an excuse to talk to him.

“No.” The tone is questionable so you shake your head violently, scoffing. “I told him I wanted to meet in person.”

“Good. Good. Either he responds or he doesn’t,” he surmises, as if what he said isn’t the most obvious thing in the world. He snakes his hand around the back of your neck, massaging his fingers in circles over muscles you didn’t realize you’d tensed up. “And either way, I’m 100% certain you’re way too good for him. So don’t worry about it so much, okay?”

He snickers when you cast your gaze at the floor with a shy smile. “Joonie… That’s really sweet of you to say. I... Thank you.”

He shrugs off the gratitude with a smirk, trying to not let it get to his head. It’s true and you need to hear it. He clears his throat and knocks, nervously glancing over at you with his other hand still working small circles into the back of your neck. You’ll figure out soon enough that he’s also buttering you up since Jungkook is definitely home tonight, contrary to your belief that he certainly would not be.

The door swings open and a very sweaty, very shirtless Jungkook stands with his leg propped against the door, showcasing every glistening muscle of his body in the dim light. He dons an innocent smile, spreading his stance to push the door open wider and making sure you get a good look at the muscles tensing in his thigh. Your eyes helplessly scan the sculpted lines of his stomach, even as he purposefully flexes to draw the tiniest gasp from your lips. Pert brown nipples threaten to steal your attention, but you drag your eyes to the ink splattered across his skin instead. The myriad of tattoos that line the right side of his body tell a story you don’t have time or desire to explore, and you hate the way that your brain notes the curl of black ink disappearing beneath the band of his shorts and reappearing across his thigh.

“Princess, you made it.” He clicks his tongue with a devilish smirk as he watches you look him up and down with your mouth hanging stupidly agape.

Feeling your fight or flight response kick in, Namjoon’s fingers clamp down hard on your neck to keep you from bolting.

“What is he doing here?” you hiss in your friend’s direction, too distracted to fight against his iron grip on your neck.

“I live here,” Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms. “What? Didn’t you come here to see me?”

The anger on your tongue short circuits the connection your mouth has with your brain. Your jaw snaps shut and you roll your eyes, mirroring his action by folding your arms across your chest.

Jungkook seems amused by your irritation, offering a small laugh. “Client canceled so I decided to do a little exercise at home. Problem?”

He lets his hands drop to his sides, knowingly hooking his thumbs beneath the band of his shorts. Your eyebrow twitches and your jaw tightens. He knows the effect he has on women. He knows the effect he has on you. You’re determined to deny him the satisfaction so you simply stare him down. Douche.

Namjoon forces a dimpled smile to cut the tension. “So... I brought jenga! Do I smell pizza?”

You attempt to push past Jungkook, but he makes sure to bump a sweaty shoulder into you. “I’ve gotta shower. Wanna join?”

If you roll your eyes any harder, you might sever your optic nerve. “Don’t touch me.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Somehow you’ve been stuck with the worst jenga player in the world as your teammate. Namjoon may be a good friend and smart as fuck, but he is terrible at anything requiring coordination. He’s been the only one to knock the tower over. Four times now. That’s four times you’ve had to drink the disgusting gin offered in the form of a shot by Seokjin.

“I think I’ll sit this one out,” you declare, wiping the taste of evergreen trees from your mouth as you set the empty shot glass back down. “Jin, jump in for me?”

You sit back in your chair and pulling out your phone to check your messages.The man grimaces at your request. “Do I have to? The odds seem stacked against me. I can only compensate so much, you know.”

Hoseok and Yoongi snicker into their beers and Jimin laughs out loud as he reaches into the communal bowl of popcorn possessively wedged between his teammate and himself.

“I think these teams are very fair,” Taehyung says, licking the salt from his fingers as he sets the last of the blocks back into position.

“I feel like my luck is changing. Different teammate, different energy, come on,” Namjoon assures him, making the first move.

The block slides out without issue and he drops it on top of the tower with a grin. Hoseok hums a thoughtful sound as he pushes a middle block with the tip of his pointer until it falls onto the other side of the table.

“I’m not sure you’re paying enough attention to be the referee,” Jin pouts.

“Are you really so mad that she’s not looking at you?” Jimin teases with a giggle while making his move. “This is one game where you can’t use your face as a bargaining chip, Jin. It’s all skill.”

The older man scoffs, rolling his eyes as he takes a side block and wagging it in your direction. “How will you know if someone cheats if you’re looking at your phone the whole time, hmm?”

“I’ll know,” you mutter, not bothering to look up. “Besides. How do you cheat at jenga? You knock the tower over or you don’t. Team that knocks the tower over does the shots. Those are pretty simple rules.”

Seokjin grumbles something unintelligible underneath his breath in response. You ignore him as you reach for your bottle of spiked root beer, trying to figure out some clever joke that might impress Jason enough to respond to you. You rack your brain, furrowing your brow in contemplation as you stare at the blinking cursor and take a big swig.

Out of the corner of your eye you catch the flash of white and subconsciously spare a glance up. Your stomach flips like it’s trying to win a gymnastics competition and you wish you could press undo on the double take your eyes have just performed without prompt. Maybe he didn’t notice.

Jungkook pauses in the hall, adjusting the white cotton towel around his waist. He’s grinning at you like the cat that ate the canary as he slowly drags his fingers over the edges of the fabric, peeling it from its resting place on his hips. Of course he fucking noticed.

You force your eyes back to the safety of your phone screen just in time, barely missing the flash of his glossy ink-covered skin. When he realizes you’re not watching the show he’s putting on, he fastens the towel around his waist and walks into the light of the den. You swallow, feeling his eyes rake over your form as he passes the table with a loud sigh.

“All clean,” he announces in a singsong voice as he continues towards the kitchen.

You hate the way your jaw threatens to betray you by attempting to drop at the sight of the rippled muscles carved into his upper back and the thick line creased into the meat of his spine. Even with the broad artistic strokes of color swathed across his back in the shape of a phoenix spreading its red-orange wings wide, you can still see the definition of his form chiseled beneath it. You try not to lose yourself in the flawless details painted into his flesh and grind your teeth to keep your jaw wired shut.

Wet, tangled locks of hair fall into his face as he reaches into the refrigerator. When he stands up straight, he arches his back to stretch his chest towards the ceiling. He’s got a tiny jug of banana milk in his palm and he’s working on chugging it down.

He pauses and licks remnants of the cloudy liquid from his lips. “Thirsty. Relatable, right, Y/N?”

You scowl, tapping furiously on your keyboard. “Put some fucking clothes on.”

Jungkook throws his hands in the air in defeat as he casually wanders out of the room. “Okay, okay. I’m going.”

Your eyes settle on the tower. Minutes pass and still it hasn’t fallen. Turn after turn around the table, the game has gone on far longer than anticipated. Namjoon is determined to not lose this time; it’s actually kind of impressive how careful he’s been. You’ve almost forgotten about Jungkook until he reappears, this time fully covered in black sweats and a long-sleeved shirt. The tension in the room is palpable. You’re afraid to even breathe in the direction of the wooden blocks precariously stacked on one another.

Hoseok is sweating as he prods the stack with his index finger, making a high-pitched whining sound as he tries to determine his next move. Jungkook wedges himself between Jin and Taehyung, forcing you to acknowledge his presence as he sits on the opposite side of the table and steals a fistful of popcorn.

After a few seconds, Hoseok sighs at Yoongi. “I give up. You do it. We’re a team. I’m gonna knock it over if you don’t,” he whines.

Yoongi rolls his eyes and quickly shoots his finger out at a random block. It flies across the table at Seokjin, causing him to dramatically duck out of the way just in time. The table erupts with laughter.

“Damn, that didn’t do it. I was hoping we could play cards now,” Yoongi mutters to himself.

“Hey, what are you doing? You almost hit me with that! You have to put that on top! Go get it!” Jin yells across the table, mind already heavily clouded with booze. At least he’s laughing so you know that heightened tone doesn’t indicate any serious animosity.

“It’s right next to you. Pick it up and give it to me,” Yoongi replies while leaning over the table, which causes the tower to immediately wobble. Hoseok dramatically gasps, bringing his hands to his mouth. Seokjin picks up the block and slides it across the surface as he gives you a pointed look.

"Isn't this cheating? Don't they forfeit since it was on Hobi’s turn?"

"They're technically a team.” You shrug.

"You are a terrible referee," he groans, rubbing his temple as Yoongi carelessly throws the piece on top.

Taehyung and Jimin fervently whisper to each other over their strategy before Taehyung reaches out for an easy-looking target. The slightest touch sends the blocks crashing down, causing the man to blink in disbelief.

“Time to drink up your handsome competitor. Gin served by Jin.” He snickers.

Jimin and Taehyung cringe as Jin slides two shot glasses full of the vile liquid towards them. They link elbows and tilt their heads back, downing the burning liquid in solidarity. Jimin seems unaffected while Taehyung’s face scrunches up and he coughs.

“It burns!” he sputters, clutching his chest. He walks into the kitchen, dragging his tongue across his palm as though it will remove the taste from his mouth.

“Thank god. I don’t think I could have stomached another,” Namjoon murmurs, rising to his feet. “Be right back.”

As soon as he heads off in the direction of the restroom, the others start cleaning up the mess of blocks scattered across the table and Yoongi begins shuffling a deck of cards. Jungkook takes the opportunity to slide into the empty seat beside you. You toss an annoyed glance his way in warning. “Can I help you, Jungkook?”

“You could if you weren’t so busy pretending like you don’t want to look at me.” His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek and he smiles innocently when you look up from your phone to glare daggers at him.

“You’re in Namjoon’s seat.”

He ignores your statement, peering over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of your phone screen. “Who are you texting? Is it your hot friend?”

“She doesn’t want to bang you, dude,” you tell him in a flat tone, flicking the power button to hide the message.

“Oh, just like you?” he asks, unable to hide the amusement striking his features.

After years of practicing this song and dance with other women, he’s grown accustomed to everyone wanting a piece of this cookie. There’s no way you’re immune, especially after his performance on the ocarina a few months ago. He charmed you before you could sink your teeth into his neck and do the same to him, and now you're mad about it. That’s your category, right? Your spite is obviously a cover for your disappointment.

Unless it isn’t. His conviction wavers as your jaw tightens and you take a swig from the dark bottle on the table. People don’t get close unless they want to get fucked. Literally. But you are Joon’s ‘friend’ and you seemed genuinely interested in getting to know him, at least for a little while. Most people are good at faking the first time, but it’s been a while and you’re still here. What if you’re actually hanging around his friends for all the right reasons? What if you had something other than shallow intentions? What if he actually hurt your feelings? He sinks back in his seat, silently stewing in his assumptions.

You set your phone face down on the table, a forced manic smile settling on Yoongi. “What are we playing?”

The man spreads the cards face down over the table in a circle, placing a single shot in the center. “It’s called the circle of death. There are a bunch of ways to play so I’m just gonna pick my favorites.”

He gets up, taking the magnetic whiteboard off the refrigerator and furiously scribbling notes on its surface. You crane your neck to get a good read, but it’s still fairly challenging to make out his chicken scratch.

“There’s a lot you can pick up after hours at bartending school. I had fun playing this with the other people in my class but it’ll probably be even better with you guys.”

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ RULES:

A - Face

2 - You

3 - Me

4 - Floor

5 - Jive

6 - Forehead master

7 - Heaven

8 - Hate

9 - Rhyme

10 - Social

J - Never

Q - Eat

K - Rulemaker

Joker - Waterfall

Your eyebrows furrow at the words you can make out. “This seems complicated.”

Yoongi scoffs, setting the board on the counter and leaning it against the wall. “Trust me. It’s not as bad as it seems. Besides this will be right here in case you forget.”

“Does that say eat? Yoongi, what the fuck does that mean?” You tilt your head to the side and try to read the list in its entirety but still at a loss for what it means.

Hoseok scratches his head, equally as stumped by the list.

“I’ll go over the rules once everyone is back at the table. I have a feeling I’ll be repeating them enough once we start.”

You slump in your chair with a pout as you proceed to polish off your beverage. Namjoon returns and sees his spot has been taken.

"Kook," he warns, tapping his friend in the shoulder to try to get him to move over.

Namjoon isn't stupid in the slightest. He may lack common sense at times and he definitely is the clumsiest person in the room, but perception is his strength. What do you get when you add up the subtle glances, the nervous stutters, and shy smiles? Multiply that sum by the times you've tucked your hair behind your ear needlessly, gotten starry-eyed while talking, or claimed a seat nearby. Tallying your distracted behaviors yields a simple answer: a crush.

You don't have to say anything. You never have to say anything because you wear that shame so well. Even subtracting the stunt Jungkook pulled on Halloween and the distance you've put down since then, it's not enough to negate the total. You say you hate him, but those glances are still there. Pressing your lips tight to keep yourself from smiling has become your default defensive tactic. Playing with your hair quickly turns into tugging loose strands back into a ponytail. It’s almost painful to watch. He wonders if anyone else sees it for what it is because Jungkook sure doesn’t.

Staying out of it is tough because he knows both sides. But it’s not his place to spill the tea to either one of you. You’re both his friends and it’s hard not to feel like the mediator that he definitely doesn’t want to be. You’re adults. You can figure your shit out without him to take care of every little thing. Yeah, it would be easier just to do it all for you, but you’ll never learn that way and neither will he. However, that doesn’t mean he can’t drop some caution tape out every once in a while.

Jungkook digs his heels into the floor and huffs. “But I like this seat and you got up so it’s mine now.”

“Joonie, it’s fine.” You manage to keep the irritation out of your voice, talking over the man to your left like he’s not even there. “He’ll get bored eventually. Don’t feed the troll.”

Namjoon shakes his head and takes a seat on the opposite side of Jungkook, grumbling how you’re going to come crying to him later when Jungkook snaps your bra straps or some shit and his friend is gonna end up with a black eye but whatever not his problem. At least that’s the gist of what you get out of your friend’s griping. He may have a point, but you’re not going to acknowledge that. You’re busy looking at the plastic cup full of beer set down in front of you.

You crinkle your nose at Yoongi but he answers before you can ask. “Everyone is drinking the same thing. Even playing field. Not really fair if someone's got more alcohol in their drink."

You catch Taehyung's eyes across the table and mirror his disgusted expression, both of you sticking your tongue out at the liquid.

"Alright. There's only one rule you really need to be worried about in the beginning: my rule to keep you all from getting distracted. If you touch your phone, whoever catches you is allowed to send any message to any contact in it.”

Jungkook grins wickedly at you, noticing the way you drop your mobile device on the table and leave it where it lands face down. Yoongi goes over the rules one by one and gives an example of each being used. Everyone blinks at him stupidly once he gets to the Queen and delivers a deadpan explanation that whoever pulls that card has to eat it. None of you are drunk enough to believe him, so he scribbles the rule out on the whiteboard and writes a question mark instead. He sets the board back in place and continues with his explanation, looking at everyone expectantly.

He points at the board behind him, not bothering to look back at it. "This is here in case you forget what any of the cards mean, but we’ll go slow since there are eight of us.”

A full round around the table and you are all feeling pretty comfortable and giggly. Some of the more tame cards have made their way into the discard pile beside Yoongi.

Jin pulled an eight and made Tae drink until he said stop, which was hilarious and equally terrifying when you realized someone could do the same to you. Luckily the enemy beside you didn’t have the pleasure.

Taehyung pulls a King and tries to make a weird rule that any time a four is played and you’re all scrambling to the floor, the last one to touch the ground has to kiss the feet of the cardholder. When you collectively agree you are not doing that he huffs and makes a rule that for the rest of the game if you have to drink, you have to dirty talk your beer before taking a sip. This rule makes you determined not to lose any rounds.

Laughter erupts from the table when Yoongi calls his drink a filthy little slut before having to take a sip. Hobi is so thrilled when Yoongi pulls a five and starts dancing immediately after that he ended up cackling instead of focusing on the game. He’s less than thrilled about needing to drink after missing the opportunity to dance so he ends up glaring at his drink.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, you filthy bitch? You want me to put my hands around your throat, put my tongue on you and drink up? Alright then.” He coos a ridiculous sound at his cup and guffaws before taking a huge swig.

Jimin covers his eyes and laughs, downing the rest of his drink like it’s water without a thought of whether he was supposed to or not. He gets up to refill his cup as an excuse to hide the heat in his cheeks.

“Hobi’s upping the game. Woooooow.” Jin leans back in his chair, mouth agape with wonder before bursting into a squeaky laugh.

You gulp, hoping everyone is too distracted by their own laughter to notice the way your legs clamp together. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the actual. Fuck. Hobi. I gotta text Jennie. She’s not gonna believe this. No, don’t touch your phone. Don’t look at anyone. Just wait for your turn to pick a card.

Hobi pulls a three and has to drink again. “Ah. This slut wants more. Here we go, baby.”

You desperately scan the circle of facedown cards, a smile forcefully smattered on your features. You strain to reach the one you’re trying for. Hoseok slides it towards you with an innocent smile, as though those lips weren’t just spewing absolute filth. “I hope it’s a good one.”

Your eyes drop to the card as you flip it back on the table. Jack. You squint at the board, trying to figure out what “Never” means when Yoongi puts three fingers up.

“Alright, Y/N. This is Never Have I Ever. We all put our fingers up like this. You come up with something you’ve never done and say it out loud. If any of us have done those things,” he pauses and drops a finger so he only has two standing tall, “then we put them down. First one to have no fingers up has to drink.”

Oh no. What haven’t I done? What haven’t I done? The guys all expectantly wait for you to say something. You purse your lips as your mind blanks on every moment you’ve ever experienced.

“Never have I ever…” your mouth is dry. “I don’t know.”

Yoongi laughs. “Don’t think too hard. It doesn’t have to be anything crazy, but it does have to be true. It’s not fun otherwise. People have different goals. You can use it to learn or you can just try get as many people to drink as possible.”

Suddenly a lightbulb goes off in your head. They’re all men. “Never have I ever peed standing up.”

Everyone around the table puts a finger down. The mirth in Yoongi’s face becomes strained and his eyelids flutter as he sighs. “Careful. There are a lot of cards left and you’re about to make yourself a target.”

You press on anyway. “Never have I ever had sex with a woman.”

A few of them tut in annoyance as they’re all left with one finger up.

Jungkook pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek. “You’re not living your best life then.”

You furrow your brow while trying to think of another easy thing that could get them all to lose. Tapping your fingers on the table, you make an effort to focus on each one’s concentrated gaze. It comes to you and you filter your bottom lip through your teeth for a moment. Have they...? You’d bet they all have.

Jungkook rolls his eyes at you. “Come on, Princess. Just say whatever it is.”

“Never have I ever been to a strip club.”

There’s a collective sigh as their hands drop and they stare at their drinks. You grin like a maniac, taking in the garbled sounds of each one dirty-talking their drinks like it’s a goddamn orgy.

Jungkook looks over at you, making sure he has your attention as he offers an amused smile. “You really haven’t been to Wings?”

You’ve seen signs for that club, hating to admit the ads garnered intrigue. It’s split down the middle, supposedly one side angelic and the other hellish. “Nope. Drink up, Jungkook.”

He maintains eye contact with you, bringing his drink to his lips. “Maybe I can get you to come. Will you give me permission to taste you?” He tilts his head back and makes a show of closing his eyes and slowly slurping his beverage. You narrow your eyes at him before he puts the cup back down. “Delicious. My turn.”

He flips the card. “King. Ooh. My rule. Starting now, every time you say something you have to start with the word hashtag and end with dotcom.”

“Jungkook, that’s so stupid,” you say without thinking.

“Hashtag, drink up Princess, dotcom,” he replies with an impish grin.

You bite your lip and stare at your drink. How could you be so careless? They all lean in, waiting for the words to leave your mouth. You hold your hands up in a T-shape. “Hold up. Time out. Pause the game. I need some clarity. Do I have to say hashtag dotcom thing WHILE talking to my drink?”

Namjoon looses it, laughing like a maniac. “Hashtag, I think you fucking do Y/N dotcom.”

Jungkook just smiles, crossing his arms and waiting for you to continue. God, you fucking hate him. This is the dumbest rule you’ve ever heard. It’s going to get old fast. Still, you stare down at your cup. “Hashtag… Uh… I’m gonna... s-slurp your fluids out now, dotcom?”

Jungkook’s obnoxious laugh is piercing your eardrums as you down a few big gulps. The rest of the table roars with laughter and heat burns your cheeks, not daring to make eye contact with any one of them.

“W-What was that?!” Jin yells. “You sound like an alien! Can I give you some pointers, please?”

“Hashtag, Seokjin! You forgot dotcom!” Jungkook says, pointing to his friend’s cup.

Jin curses under his breath and stares at his cup. “Hashtag, this is how you do it, Y/N.” He focuses on his cup without missing a beat, raising it up to the sky longingly like he’s about to start serenading it. “You wish you could hear me say this every day, don’t you? You love how my mouth feels on you. I can tell by the way you’re dripping for me, my lovely. Dot. Com.” He makes a point to run his tongue along the rim of his cup and takes a sip.

Fuck these guys. But also… Fuck? These guys? You’re one dirty comment away from soaking your panties, but they don’t need to know that.

“Hashtag I’m sorry I’m not a slut like the rest of you. Also Seokjin, you’re a bitch, dotcom,” you grumble, gripping your knees to keep your hands off your phone. Jennie will absolutely scream once you tell her about this night. She’ll be sad she missed out.

Jin’s eyes go wide as though you smacked his ass in front of the world, a smile is taking over the corners of his mouth. “Hashtag, stop trying to flirt with me, dotcom.”

You roll your eyes but you can’t help the shy smile that creeps in. Jungkook sits up straight and sighs dramatically. “Hashtag let’s keep going so we can get the rest of this bread dotcom.”

Jimin pulls a king and has made the rule that hashtag dotcom is abolished. It comes as a relief when you’re a few more rounds in, and everyone has already consumed way more booze than expected because of Jungkook’s rule. An uneventful round of drinking passes before Seokjin pulls the last King out.

“A rule, hmm? Alright. When you ask someone to drink you have to hold their chin, stare longingly into their eyes, and ask them to drink.” He demonstrates, holding Taehyung’s jaw in his fingers. “Like this. Will you please drink for me, my dear friend, Taehyung?”

Tae bashfully giggles waving his hand away. “You’re too much sometimes. I think you need a girlfriend.”

Since it only applies for certain cards, you end up forgetting about it as multiple turns come and go without utilizing it. Your turn rises again and you slide the eight face up across the table. After kicking your chair with his feet for the millionth time, you completely forget about the rule Jin made and pick based on your irritation. Eight is hate indeed.

“Jungkook, go until I say stop.”

The words feel satisfying as they leave your mouth, but Namjoon grimaces, anxiously baring both sets of teeth.

“Uh… You gotta…” Namjoon taps his cheeks twice with his fingertips.

Horror replaces that smug satisfaction in the pit of your stomach and it churns a sickness deep inside that pit.

Jungkook cocks his head at you. “You really wanna put your hands on me that badly, huh?”

You exhale loudly and tightly grip his chin with sweaty, hot fingers. Your eyes threaten to burn holes into his. “Jungkook, go until I say stop.”

He’s stunned into silence for a second, adam’s apple bobbing ever so slightly. He blinks at you a couple times before regaining his composure. Who knew princesses can breathe fire? Grabbing his cup, he grins and chuckles an amused sound even as you’re tearing yourself from him.

“Don’t worry I can go all night when you taste so good, baby,” he says, tilting his head back as he drinks.

You keep an eye on his cup, watching the liquid slowly disappear. You have to be careful not to let him finish, but you kind of want him to suffer a little bit. Even though he drinks like a fish, he’s still not on Jimin’s level. This has to be affecting him somehow. He watches you through an annoyed side-eye when you don’t say a word, not allowed to stop until you say so or until he finishes his drink. Your phone chooses this exact moment to vibrate a long sound against the table and your concentrated gaze wanders for a second too long, allowing him to gulp down the remnants of his drink.

Jungkook slams his empty cup down in time for you to look back at him in horror before looking at your own full cup. The room fills with the sound of everyone “ooooh-ing” like this is the sixth grade. With a heavy sigh, you bring your cup to your lips.

“I was distracted. I would have said stop.”

Jungkook leans his elbow on the table and rests his head on a folded palm. His smile tells you he’s ready to dish it back. “Mmm-hmm. Go on. Oh… Wait.”

He sits up, cupping your jaw in his hands so lightly, like it could disintegrate at the slightest touch. He leans his head back slightly, soft eyes imploring you to move closer. He slides his fingers up your jawline, nestling them behind your ears like he’s about to draw you to his lips. “Will you be good and drink that for me until I ask you to stop?”

Jin scoffs. “Wow. Look at this guy.”

The others hold back their snickers. Your eyebrow twitches, smacking his hands away from you. Instead you focus on the cup in your sweaty palms.

“I can’t wait to feel you… dripping from my mouth,” you whisper to your cup, trying to redeem yourself for earlier and doing your best not to think about how fucking good it felt having Jungkook’s hands wrapped around the sides of your face. You don’t spare a look at any of them as you tilt your head back and start gulping the liquid down.

“Much better,” Yoongi says with a smirk, but you don’t hear him over the sound of blood rushing in your ears.

Namjoon smacks his hand to his forehead. “Yeah... I’m gonna need you to dial it back just a bit. I still have to see you at work.”

Jin pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. “Ah, maybe our Zelda isn’t so bad at this after all.”

Jimin, Taehyung and Hobi all have their elbows on the table, cheeks in their palms as they watch your throat make its swallowing motions. They simultaneously grunt differing words of affirmation. About three quarters through, Jungkook puts his hand on the bottom of your cup.

“Stop.”

Mercy? From Jungkook? You don’t believe it, but you’ve been struggling so you’re kind of grateful. Just as you’re about to put the cup down, he taps the bottom of it, forcing liquid to splash upwards onto your chin. You slap his hand away as he cackles and you wipe your lips.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.”

“What time, sweetheart?” He grins when you glare at him.

“Just pick your fucking card before I strangle you.”

“Kinky. You know, I might let you if you asked nicely.”

You get the pitcher of beer from the fridge and start refilling everyone’s cups. He pulls a card that has him whispering dirty words into the rim of his empty cup, holding it out for you to fill. At least most of the cards seem to be gone now. You hate to admit you’re feeling a bit dizzy and out of sorts, but you reason that it’s just a few more rounds, so maybe you just sip on water after this game is over.

Just as you get back to your seat, Namjoon throws a sheepish grin your way. “Joker.”

“There’s only one of these,” Yoonngi begins, looking around the room to make sure he has everyone’s attention. “Waterfall is when everyone starts drinking and you can’t stop until the person to your right stops. Namjoon can stop whenever he wants, but Jin has to wait until he’s done. Then Taehyung waits until Jin is done. Make sense?”

Normally the waterfall card is played in the opposite direction, but there’s so much tension between you and Jungkook tonight and he’s so used to his friend getting his way with women that he can’t help wanting to give you the edge on him. Everyone nods. The realization dawns on everyone that before this can happen, they all have to do two things per the rules.

One after another the guys ask the person to their left to drink while gripping their chins. It would be a fairly intimate scene if people weren’t giggling every three seconds. Still, your heart damn near skips a beat when Hobi’s slender fingers curl under your jaw, drunkenly pulling you closer to his face than you’ve ever dared to get. Heat builds in your stomach and travels up your chest, spreading across your back and prickling your neck. You hope it doesn’t move into your cheeks.

“You gonna take this drink, Y/N?” he aks, unable to hold the giggles in as he wags your head back and forth in his steady hands.

Oh… He’s fucking gone, isn’t he? “For you? Maybe,” you flirt, rubbing your shoulder against his as you turn away.

Jungkook sits up straight, muscles tensing as you twist your body towards him. Suddenly, he looks a lot bigger than you remember. Is he puffing out his chest? You wilt under his irritated stare but are determined not to let it show. You slip your fingers underneath his chin, just barely registering the stubble there. Your slow blink hides the flutter of your eyelashes, alcohol clouding your brain with desire. But damn if the room isn’t still spinning. He flashes you boyish grin when you clap your palm to his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Yes?”

“Drink up, buttercup,” you giggle, pinching your fingers closed beneath his jaw.

A choked laugh escapes him. “You should sit this one out. At this rate, you’ll be passed out with your face on the toilet seat in an hour.”

You spin back to your drink with fury in your eyes; if there’s anything you hate more than Jungkook, it’s being told what to do. Especially by Jungkook. I’ll show you, asshole.

Everyone turns to their cups and mutters a few dirty words before Namjoon begins the circle of drinking. One by one the cups come down, everyone seemingly grateful for the person before them showing at least some kind of mercy. You slow your gulping when you realize Jimin is dragging it out in an attempt to annoy Yoongi. Both of them still seem surprisingly sober for the amount they’ve ingested. Maybe they don’t wear their intoxication as easily as the rest of you. Hobi exchanges a worried glance at you, trying to not let it slip that he’s only pretending to down his beverage, but you can tell by the steady level of the liquid in his cup that he’s pretty much ready to tap out.

As soon as Jimin finally pulls his cup back from his lips, Yoongi stops, immediately followed by Hobi. Yoongi is keenly aware of his roommate’s inability to hold down liquor in large quantities. He doesn’t fare much better with beer. Saving his friend means you can be saved too. He looks at you, raising his eyebrows in warning. You spare a fleeting glance in his direction, but it’s long enough to catch his message loud and clear: Don’t be an idiot, Y/N. Don’t go overboard.

But you turn your attention to Jungkook, who is still effortlessly allowing his beverage to slither down his throat. You gulp in segments, a commendable attempt to keep yourself going. Even for all your efforts, booze spills from the corners of your mouth and leaves cold sloppy trails down your neck as you watch Jungkook. He’s not even struggling. Fuck. You finally give up, allowing the cup to smack down on the table with a messy splash.

He keeps going just to spite you, polishing off his drink with a smack of his lips and a satisfied sigh. He rises from his seat, patting your shoulder as he gets himself more to consume. “It’s cute how hard you tried.”

The final round passes and you are ready to strangle Jungkook for the way he keeps knocking his knees against yours. It’s gotten to the point where you’ve moved your chair so close to Hobi’s that he’s put his arm around you, thinking you are just as sleepy as he is. Truth be told you kind of are. The room is a little too spinny for your liking, but you can’t seem to persuade your brain to make your legs get up and get yourself a glass of water.

“You want to nap too?” he whispers, rubbing the eyes he can hardly keep open. “Come here. Let’s sleep together.”

The innocent words make your stomach spin in place but you don’t have time to ruminate on them. Jungkook hooks his ankle around your chair and jerks it back towards him. Furious eyes flicker on him in warning just as Hobi’s cheek slumps over your shoulder and draws your attention away. Luckily Yoongi springs into action to keep his friend from falling any further into your personal space than he already has.

“Okay, Hobi. We get it. You need to sleep,” he chuckles, cradling his friend’s arm around his shoulder as he helps him to his feet.

Hoseok weakly grumbles a sound of acknowledgement as they shuffle down the hall into what you assume is a guest room. Their apartment is bigger than any you’ve seen so you find yourself wondering just how many guest rooms they could possibly have. Then you remind yourself that it doesn’t matter because you are definitely not staying because getting an uber is always an option.

When Yoongi returns alone, people have started migrating into the living room. Jungkook and Jin are still seated, heatedly talking about some game nearby, but you’ve elected to ignore them in favor of checking your messages. Jason has sent you a few messages that have piqued your interest, including one finally asking you on a date. Does ignoring guys really fucking work? Was Namjoon right about something in his life? You don’t want to believe it.

The words in Jason’s message blur together, despite how hard you’re concentrating on them. You’d told him you were out with friends. He must have known you’d be relatively unavailable so maybe it’s okay that you’re in no shape to formulate a coherent response. Still you stare at the keyboard, jumping when an arm reaches over you to place a glass of water on the table for you.

You blink a few times at Yoongi, who simply whispers a gruff “drink” before grabbing the shot left in the center of the table and downing it as he joins the majority of his friends in the other room. Jungkook looks over at you, eyes dropping to your open conversation when you absentmindedly set your phone down. You take the cold glass in both hands and narrow your eyes in Yoongi’s direction as you swallow down a good portion of the liquid.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It’s been an hour and if you’re honest you’ve just barely teetered back into the moderately drunk category. Yoongi had offered to take you home when he was getting ready to leave since he was already chauffeuring Namjoon. At the time you declined because you were certain that your natural predisposition to motion sickness would be amplified by the liquor in your system. You didn’t want to make Yoongi’s new car smell like puke. Namjoon has this habit of texting when he’s worried. Even after he left you’d been going back and forth about the night. Honestly it’s kind of helping keep you from passing out and you’re reminded how grateful you are for his friendship.

Sitting on the couch next to Jimin may have also influenced your decision since the man literally smells how vacations feel — and god do you need to relax. He’s also acted as a barrier between you and Jungkook, who has his legs stretched out across the cushions to Jimin’s right. Jungkook has been engrossed in his phone since you left the table, opting out of switching off with Taehyung when he dies in-game. You’re kind of thankful for it. Maybe he’s finally settled down for the night. Does he get more polite with drowsiness?

Jimin smiles softly at you, his arms draped over the back of the couch. The pair of you have been quietly conversing and giggling over the platformer Seokjin and Taehyung have been playing. Jimin’s face still looks a little flush with alcohol, but he only just finished his last beverage for the night. How the hell can someone so tiny pack away so much liquor? You hold in a shiver as his fingertips playfully dance along your shoulder, trying not to let on how the action affects you. His harmless flirting only bolsters confidence hiding in the depths of your mind and you stretch your arms up with a yawn and lean against him, knowingly giving him a better view of the cleavage poking out from beneath the v-cut of your shirt.

Jimin allows a devilish smile to curl at his lips as his fingers walk down your arm. He puts both hands back on the couch, like you’d made the move unprompted by his touching. “Hmm. You’re pretty bold, aren’t you?” His whisper is low and breathy, so quiet you almost miss it. What a tease.

“Hey. Jimin. Come here.”

The unusually quiet Jungkook knocks his foot against his friends knee, which pushes Jimin’s thigh up against yours. You softly sigh at the contact and the subsequent loss when Jungkook sits up and Jimin apologetically scoots away. You plant an elbow on the armrest beside you and prop your cheek up on your palm. Seokjin is carrying Taehyung through this level it seems.

“Do you think I should tap that?” The words are loud enough to distract you so you can’t help but turn your head in their direction.

“I think she might be out of your league,” Jimin giggles. “Besides she’s older than you. I thought that bothered you?”

“Oh. No way. I love it. When they have more experience I don’t have to work as hard,” he replies with a lofty sigh.

“Are you sure about that in this case? You’re very presumptuous.”

Your blood heats up the back of your neck. Why are men so disgusting? You grit your teeth, unable to hold in the sound of disgust that makes its way through them.

Jungkook’s head snaps up and he locks eyes with you. There’s something smug about his expression, like he’s stupidly proud of pulling that reaction from you. “Aw, are you feeling left out, princess? Here, see for yourself. Don’t you think she’s pretty?”

When he flips his screen around your own profile is staring back at you. Straightening your spine and reaching across Jimin’s lap for him, you hiss, “Jungkook, I’m gonna kill you.”

“Why?” He tilts his head to one side, feigning confusion and looks at the profile again. “I think she’s pretty hot.”

“If you match with me, I will not swipe right on you. You know that, right? So this whole thing is pointless,” you reason, more for yourself than the two men beside you. “You’re not gonna get to me. It’s not gonna fucking work, Jungkook.”

Jimin’s shoulders tremble with soft, mellifluous laughter that spills from his lips as he takes in the exchange. It’s apparent that Jungkook has already gotten under your skin. Denying it is only making you angrier.

“Fine. Fine. It’s gone now, see,” Jungkook says, briefly flashing you the home screen of his phone before putting it away. The image of that big tiddy anime girl behind all those icons is going to haunt your dreams; you can feel it.

You get up to get yourself more water. “I hate you so much.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It’s late. Seokjin left a few minutes ago and Jimin rubs his eyes, unsure what to do. The selfish part of his brain tells him he should claim the other guest room. The horny part of his brain tells him he should suggest you share with him. The exhausted part of his brain tells him to just pass out in Taehyung’s bed and let him figure it out.

“You’re welcome to stay, too. We have room for you,” Taehyung says with a kind smile. “There’s another guest room.”

You still don’t feel well enough to drive or sit in a cab. You sit with your hands folded in your lap, pondering your shitty life choices. You’ve become pretty good friends, but a sleepover seems a bit strange without your bestie Namjoon to buffer out all of the awkward moments.

You smile as sweetly as you can manage, your voice small and borderline whiny in its need for sleep. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t want to be a bother. Thank you, Taehyung.”

The man rolls his eyes. “I won’t allow you to sleep on a couch when we have beds.”

“Your couch is comfier than my actual bed,” you joke, patting the plush cushions on either side of you.

Jungkook walks in, shirtless and scrubbing a toothbrush furiously in his mouth. He tries to speak but it’s unintelligible, so he turns back around to finish up.

“It’s really okay. I should stay up and finish my water anyway and I don’t want to keep you guys up. I drank a little too much.”

“No shit,” Jungkook sighs as he rounds the corner and leans against the wall. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay up with you, Princess.”

Taehyung flashes his friend a pointed look and opens his mouth to speak, but closes it when Jungkook continues.

“You guys go on. I’ll make sure she drinks up her water and gets to bed.”

You glare at him as Taehyung moves in to whisper something to him, but you lose focus as Jimin pulls you into a tight hug that you can’t help but return.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” he mumbles into the fabric of your hoodie. “I’m glad you’re a part of our family.”

You squeeze his shoulder before he shuffles down the hall and disappears into the bathroom. “Goodnight, Y/N!”

Taehyung offers a boxy smile and a small wave, demeanor changed after his side conversation with Jungkook. “Don’t take off without having breakfast. Seokjin will come back and make something tasty. Also I put your keys in my studio so good luck finding them if you try.”

You half laugh, half scoff. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind. ‘Night.”

“Goodnight,” he says, passing Jungkook a tight lipped smile on his way down the hall.

Jungkook waits until he hears the door close before he speaks and for the first time since you met him, his tone borderlines concerned. “Be honest with me. How sick are you right now?”

Your throat swallows down a thick mass of air. “I’m fine.”

“Tch. Okay, Princess,” he scoffs in disbelief, taking slow steps towards you with his hands buried in the pockets of his black sweatpants. “Do you need a bucket?”

“No.” You drink down your water, trying to focus on anything but the way your body is producing enough sweat to make you want to discard your hoodie as soon as he leaves you alone.

A door opens down the hall and Jimin shuffles out before disappearing into another room. The quiet click of the door closing causes Jungkook to sigh.

Spinning. The room is spinning again. You hold the cold glass in your hands like it’s your lifeline, shut your eyes and throw your head back to rest it against the couch. You don’t notice when he leaves, but you definitely notice the cold cloth pressed to your forehead when he returns.

“Do you want comfier clothes?” he quietly asks, voice bereft of any humor as he sinks into the cushion beside you.

You open your eyes and glare at him like this is some prank he’s playing on you but you’re not sure how. “No.”

He rolls his eyes. “Suit yourself. I get hella hot when I’m drunk off my ass. Figured I’d ask.”

“I’m not...” you begin, trying to bring your head to rise. It feels heavy and plops back down on the seat.

“You’re drunk,” he states plainly. “And miserable. So drink up the rest of the water and I’ll show you to the guest room. It’ll be embarrassing if any of my friends wake up to you looking so pathetic. Come on.”

He helps you bring the cup to your lips and tilts your head forward enough to safely consume the rest of the water in your glass.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“If you think this is what nice guys are like, I feel bad for you.” He puts the glass down in the kitchen sink, briefly rinsing it.

“Jungkook,” you whine, an exasperated sigh passing your lips with his name.

“What? Your judgement of character is way outta whack. It’s just sad,” he explains, crossing the room while rubbing fresh lotion up his arms. Washing dishes makes his skin feel itchy.

“Alright. Come on. Up.” He waves his arms lets them weakly smack his thighs when you don’t move.

A whiff of sweet peaches and soft jasmine pervades your nostrils. Why does he have to smell so fucking good? He removes the cool cloth from your forehead, earning a whine from you.

“You’ll get a new one when you get in bed. I can carry you, if that’s easier.”

“Tell me why you’re doing this. I don’t get it. What do you want?”

“I want to go to sleep so I can be lazy tomorrow and do nothing but play video games.” When you don’t budge he sighs and sits down beside you again. “And... because... you’re Namjoon’s friend and he asked us to look out for you... And now you’re all of my friends’ friend… And I guess that makes you my responsibility.”

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t expecting you to just decide you’re gonna be nice out of the blue,” you weakly smirk and let your head roll to the side so you can look at him. “Should have known it was Namjoon.

He hums an amused sound. “Yeah. Now are you going to let me get you in bed?”

You’re able to force your head up at that. “I can get myself in bed just fine thanks.”

He laughs. “Your loss.”

You stand on unsteady legs. “Where am I going?”

Jungkook grins, entertained by your lack of coordination. “That’s a good question. Where are you going, Princess?”

You stumble a bit, reaching out to steady yourself with a wall that is definitely too far to grab. Long, tattooed fingers grip your shoulders in an instant. The heat of his massive chest presses against your shoulder blades. Even through your layers of clothing you can feel how hot his skin burns and it makes you shiver, despite the way you’re soaked with sweat.

“Don’t make me ask you for help,” you plead. “Please don’t.”

“Do you want me to pretend like you didn’t beg for it, too?” he whispers, curling a muscular bicep around your back and guiding you down the hall. As he passes the thermostat, he makes a point to lower the temperature a few degrees. Jimin, Hobi, and Tae will survive. But then again, he’s not worried about them at all, is he?

“Haven’t you embarrassed me enough?” You voice cracks and you’re barely managing to hold back the tears threatening to spill out.

He doesn’t say a word as you cling to the strength of his body, looping your arms around his neck and waist as though he isn’t the last person in the world you want to tangle yourself in. He pushes the door to his room open with his shoulder, making sure you get across the threshold okay before helping you awkwardly waddle over to the unmade bed. You don’t seem to notice, and if you do, you definitely don’t comment.

Your hoodie is falling from your shoulders as you climb onto the mattress. Jungkook grabs the fabric and slings it over his shoulder. You’ve landed at a weird angle across the pillows and show no signs of correcting your position so he moves the pillows beneath your head to comfortably accommodate you. You slowly blink at him, but you’re not seeing him. Silent tears rolling down your cheeks as he grabs the thinnest sheet on his bed and pulls it over your form up to your shoulders. He chooses to ignore the way you quickly swipe them away and instead goes to get the cold towel he promised.

Standing in the sink with ice cold water running over the cloth in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he whispers into the air around him, knowing no one will ever hear it.

When he returns he waits a moment, looking for the steady rise and fall of your chest. He smooths the hair from your face before pressing the cold cloth against your sweaty forehead, turning your head to the side just in case your body decides it isn’t quite ready to rest. He lightly pats your head a couple times and leaves the room, delicately closing the door behind him.

As he makes the journey back to the couch, he feeds his arms through the sleeves of your hoodie. He settles down on the couch, feeling the warmth of the space you’d been occupying all night beneath his head. Pulling down the blanket from atop the back of the couch, he brings his knees to his chest. He bunches the soft, excess material of your hoodie in his palms and turns his head into the fabric, allowing himself a subtle inhale.

Why do you have to smell so fucking good?

#magicshopnet #smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

for monster march, ghost + indruck + nsfw?

Here you go! I borrowed some ideas we’ve tossed around on the Discord

A sketchbook, new pens, a Hershey bar, and a bag of jumbo marshmallows. A small but lively fire. And a new, huge, fuzzy sleeping bag waiting for him in the tent.

Not a bad camping set up for a city-boy art goth (as Barclay likes to call him).

Indrid sticks another marshmallow on the fork, roasting it until it’s deep brown, the smell of burning sugar curling through the air and settling in his hair. He’s never liked Graham Crackers, so he jams a square of chocolate into the molten center of the marshmallow and shoves the entire thing into his mouth.

Kepler is small. Barclay hadn’t been kidding about that. He’d also been right that one of the two tattoo shops in town was willing to hire Indrid after looking through photos of his work and confirming he completed his apprenticeship.

He’s been living in the Eastwoods campground in the Monongahela National Forest while he apartment hunts, and the tattoos he’s done so far netted him enough cash to buy his luxurious new sleeping bag. He might be waiting on a place for some time, so he may as well camp in style.

Three “s’mores” later, the moon is up and the night is chilly enough that he wants his sweatshirt. Ducking into the tent, he can’t find it on his pillow, where he swears he left it this morning. Maybe he accidentally buried it getting dressed.

A splashhiss interrupts his rummaging. Scrambling from the tent, he discovers his fire is now a pile of soaked ashes and logs being angrily stirred by a thick piece of kindling.

“Excuse me, but what the fuck?”

A man in a ranger uniform appears, the stick falling through his hand as he gives Indrid a disapproving stare.

“Look here, I know you’re new here, maybe to campin entirely. But you can’t just leave a fire burnin when you go to bed.” He doesn’t sound mad, more like he’s a disappointed big brother scolding his sibling.

“I wasn’t-”

“And all this” he gestures to the food on the table, “has gotta go in the bear box. Black bears are real good foragers and we don’t want ‘em comin’ into camp and gettin to comfy around humans.”

“Of course, but-”

“You didn’t take any food into the tent, right? Wouldn’t want somethin to decide to join you ‘cause it smelled a snack.”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “I am aware of all of these rules, and plan to follow them. Once I actually go to bed instead of ducking into the tent for my sweater. But since my evening appears to be over…” he grabs the marshmallows, roasting fork, and chocolate, carries them to the bear box, and slams it closed.

When he whirls back around, the ghost is still there, chagrined.

“Uh, sorry. I kinda jumpy about people leavin fires alone.” In the lantern light, his smile is as charming as his drawl. His stocky, bearish shape and unassumingly handsome face command Indrid’s focus, which is why his revelation comes so quickly.

“You...there’s a statue of you at the visitor center. Which makes you, ah, damn it what was the name-”

“Duck. Duck Newton. They put my legal name on there, even though Juno tried to stop ‘em. But my name’s Duck.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Duck. I’m Indrid.”

“Nice to meet you too. Uh, sorry for ruinin your campfire, looks like you were havin a nice time.”

“It’s alright. I suppose I’m grateful there’s someone haunting the campsites to keep them in order.”

“You’re takin me bein’ a ghost surprisingly well.”

“I’ve always been interested in strange things, to the point that I earned the nickname ‘mothman’ in high school.”

“Huh” Duck watches him a moment, then shrugs, “well, guess I better be goin’. Have a nice night, mothman.”

With that, he’s gone.

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

“Hello again.” Indrid says as the campfire smoke curls around a human form, “Doing your rounds?”

“More or less. I like my job, and ain’t about to give it up just because I beefed it and turned into a ghost.” A creak as Duck joins him on the picnic bench. When he materializes, he floats slightly above the worn wood, watching Indrid draw.

“That’s incredible, it’s so realistic it’s like you pressed the leaves into the pages instead of colored them.”

“Thank you.” adds depth to the leaf, “you know, I looked at the statue again today. It hardly does you justice.”

From this close, he can see a blush spread up semi-opaque cheeks. Then he starts fading.

“Oh, ah, I’m sorry. I was aiming for a benign compliment, not to make you uncomfortable.”

“S’alright, just surprised me. Not many folks wanna flirt with a dead guy.”

“I’m more interested in what the ‘dead guy’ wants.” Indrid smiles, hoping to convey he would submit to spectral touches as readily as he’d keep talking.

Duck floats closer, “Kinda curious about your other drawin’s.”

Indrid turns the sketchbook back to the beginning, “they’re half portfolio and half travelogue. Here” he holds up a fade, detached piece of paper, covered by an Morpho Butterfly that looks ready to fly away, “this is the first tattoo I ever designed.”

“Damn. Guessin’ that means you did this one” he touches the Rosy Maple Moth on Indrid’s forearm (or tries to). It’s chilly, but not in the way Indrid feared. More like taking a cool shower on a sweltering day.

“I did. Here, it gave me an idea for my first series of flash tattoos…”

They go over the illustrations page by page. Slowly, Indrid weaves in questions to Duck who, instead of recoiling from discussion of his mortal life, tells him rambling stories about the woods and which places serve the best food in town.

The conversation doesn’t end until the fire goes out on it’s own, Duck standing automatically, grabbing a water bottle, swearing, and then disappearing so he can pick the bottle up.

“Do you think that’s part of why you’re still here? Some unfinished business having to do with the woods?”

“Nah.” The water bottle thunks back on the table as Duck reappears, “I tried to live a normal life, improve the world the way I knew how, make some kind of difference to this town. Then I had to go play the goddamn hero.”

“I would say saving two dozen people from a forest fire makes a considerable difference in the world.”

A sad huff of a laugh, “Yeah, guess you’re right. Just...I meant to do somethin’ with my life, not my death, even if it was a small somethin’, and the closest thing I got to unfinished business is a model ship.”

“I...what?”

“It was four-masted and everything! I had Leo order it in special and everything and then I never, I never got to-” He tilts his head up, sniffs once, “never mind. I better let you get to sleep.”

By the time Indrid calls “goodnight,” the ghost is gone.

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

“Please tell me you’re gettin a place soon so you stop eatin everythin outta a can?” Leo bags the last of groceries.

“No such luck. Ah well, there are worse things than canned soup and Pop-Tarts.”

“At least let Barclay feed you, half the point of havin a friend who can cook is to let ‘em do it for you. You need stamps or anything?”

“N-” A box behind the counter catches his eye. It’s at an odd angle, as if whoever put it there is hoping no one will see it. Indrid can just make out an illustration of a four-masted ship.

“Is that for sale?”

Leo looks where he’s pointing, and for a moment something in his gruff affability wavers. Then he nods, “Yeah, suppose it is.”

“Can you ring it up for me?” Indrid nearly bounces on his toes when Leo sets the box on the counter and confirms his hunch.

The older man sets a gentle hand on the cardboard, sliding it across to Indrid, “Don’t worry about that, kid. It’s yours.”

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

“Duck?” Indrid turns in a circle by the picnic table, “Duck, I have something for you!”

He saw the ranger briefly last night, but he didn’t hang around. Gingerly, he sets the box on the table, tearing off a piece of sketch paper to write a note in case the ghost stops by while he’s asleep.

“Holy fuck.” Duck floats across the table from him, “‘Drid, where did, how did--why?”

“Leo still had it. As for why I, ah, it seemed like you still wanted it. If you can douse a fire and over my camp stove, I figure you can build a model ship.”

Duck disappears and Indrid’s heart sinks; that must have been too much. Then he’s squished in an invisible, wonderful bear hug.

“Thanks, ‘Drid.”

From then on, Duck spends every night at his campsite, building the ship while Indrid draws, reads, or talks with him. The model lives in the safest corner of the tent during the day.

“I mean, I’m up durin the day too, but I scared a few folks on accident and I don’t want people avoid the forest because of me.”

Indrid also learns that Duck is stuck within a certain radius of where he died, and that his attempts to talk with Juno when she was in his part of the woods only lead to his friend thinking she was hallucinating and Duck feeling miserable for three solid days. Indrid offers to act as messenger and invite Duck’s friends (many of whom have, by chance and by proximity to Barclay, become his friends) to the campsite to see him. The ranger is quiet for some time after that offer.

“Not yet. Maybe someday, but not yet. I, it ain’t even been a year, ‘Drid. I think a lot of ‘em are still hurtin. And, and maybe this is selfish but...I ain’t ready to deal with them findin’ out I aint fully gone. It’d be so much all at once.”

Indrid doesn’t bring it up again. More than once, when Aubrey tells a story about Duck only for her eyes to sadden halfway through, or when he sees Juno looking at Duck’s statue a little too long, he struggles to keep his promise.

A cold front blows into town and, since he’s still in the tent, he pops into Kepler Thrift N Find in search of an extra sweatshirt. Tucked in between one reading “Ranchos” and one with a picture of Garfield is a soft, well-loved hoodie with “Monongahela National Forest” on the front. He buys it and wears it home, the fact it’s loose in the arms making it even easier to tuck in his hands when he gets cold.

He stops by the visitor center out of habit, checking out the new plush wild animals. There are also hints of Duck here and there; his name on displays, his face in group photos. As he contemplates a small, squishy black bear, he notices Juno looking at him more than usual.

“Hello again” he sets the bear on the counter.

“Howdy. This all?

“Yes, please. Are you alright? You look, ah, tired.”

“Yep. Or, uh, just noticed that sweatshirt. It was one that got made special for staff a few years ago.”

Indrid fidgets with the cat-bitten drawstring, “It was Duck’s, wasn’t it?”

“Uh huh. He put that patch on the sleeve. Guess it startled me to see it on someone else.”

“I understand.”

“Knew him since we were kids. Hell, he’s my daughter’s godfather. Still don’t feel right, bein’ here without him.”

Indrid pushes the bear towards her and she pets it.

“What was he like?”

In the empty visitor center, Juno tells him. In her stories are echos of every conversation he’s ever had with anyone who knew Duck. When it’s time to close up, she asks if she can hug him, and thanks him for listening to her.

“Guess you weren’t kiddin about wanting to sleep with a bear” Duck teases as Indrid sets his new purchase inside the tent. Indrid whaps at him, arm going through his torso. The ranger floats nearby as Indrid heats up ravioli and opens a can of Mountain Dew. Indrid tells him about the conversation with Juno.

“Huh, guess that is my old one. Glad someone is gettin some use outta it. And it looks good on you.”

Indrid sets down his bowl, “We talked a lot, Duck. And it made me think about what you said to me one of the night after we met. You said you wanted a chance to make the world, the town, a little better. Everyone I’ve talked to, and I mean every one, has a story about you. How you helped them, how Kepler is worse off with you gone. You did so much, even with your time cut short. I, I wanted you to know that.”

The ghost looks away, “I wasn’t done tryin to help.”

“You still aren’t. You do what you can to keep the forest and the visitors safe. And you, you’ve made my life immeasurably better Duck. Seeing you is the best part of my day and I think I’m falling--ah, that is, you’re not done making a difference.”

Duck hasn’t moved since Indrid started talking about his feelings. When Indrid tries to meet his eyes, he disappears. Hurried, he reaches out to offer a reassuring touch and gets only air.

“Duck?”

Nothing, even after he calls his name three more times.

He slumps onto the bench, “well, fuck me I guess.”

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

This is a terrible idea. But it’s his last, and therefore his best.

Indrid even asked Barclay’s boyfriend, Joseph, if anything in his impressive library of the paranormal advised the reader on dealing with upset ghosts. A few did, always from the perspective of trying to get the specter to go away. They said nothing about what to do if your upset ghost was missing, leaving an ache in your heart you didn’t know you were capable of feeling.

Instead, after a week of silence, Indrid changes tactics: if he can’t coax Duck back, maybe he can annoy him into appearing.

Tonight, he finishes dinner and cleans his dishes, puts the bulk of the food in the bear box, and then tears open a bag of chips, scattering them across the table. He eats one, then leaves the open bag laying amongst the potato shards.

Next, he dumps his remaining water on the fire, which takes it down to embers but does not extinguish it. When none of that gets a reaction, he decides to narrate.

“Hmm, that should be fine, it’s not that dry and I don’t think sparks can go over the edge.”

“Should I leave these juice pouches out? Yes, I think I should, in case I get thirsty at night. Maybe I’ll take one into the tent, just to be safe.”

He already feels silly and like no one is listening, and so he escalates.

“I know I shouldn’t leave food out for the wildlife, but since there’s no handsome, ghostly ranger here to punish me for my transgressions, I am just going to leave some nuts out for the raccoons. I like raccoons. They deserve nice things. Hell, how about I just leave them a whole buffet since no one is stopping me!”

All he gets in reply are the few bugs awake this early in the spring and the crack of brush as a small mammal runs away from the weird bipedal thing yelling at his camp fire. He doesn’t leave out food for the raccoons; he climbs into his tent in a huff. What a bad idea, to think this of all things would bring Duck back to him. He’s being childish and bratty and selfish; Duck doesn’t deserve that, no more than he owes Indrid his company.

He changes into his pajamas pants and sleep shirt, intending to go back out to make the site safe and tidy. Except.

Except something just opened the bear box. The chip bag crinkles and the fire hisses out a minute later. He should be running outside to apologize, but his mind has simultaneously registered the full darkness of the night , the possibility that Duck is not the only paranormal thing in these woods, and the fact the nearest other campers are on the other side of the campground, meaning he is very, very alone.

The zipper on the tent moves, the flap falling open so his lantern shines on nothing but April air.

“Duck? Please say that’s you.”

A low chuckle, “It’s me, ‘Drid.” The fly zips shut, “mighty peeved about that trick you pulled.”

“I’m, I’m sorry. I missed you, but that was a bad way to communicate that.” He can’t see him, and the lantern only picks up the odd shift of sleeping bag or tent floor, so Indrid’s eyes’ dart about trying to pinpoint him.

“Oh, you communicated plenty, sugar. Like what you want a certain, uh, ghostly ranger to do to you.”

“Oh god” he winces, “please, forget I said that, it’s humiliating.”

“Not all that surprisin, truth be told. I mean, you and I flirted now and then. And you told me enough about yourself for me to suspect that you’re a kinky little weirdo who’s dyin to get fucked by a ghost.”

“I, I feel I should point out that I only want to fuck one ghost. You. I want to fuck you and that means fucking a ghoOOOst.” He gasps as cold lips press into his neck.

“I can make that happen, darlin, all you gotta do is say it. You were a pain in the neck earlier, so now I expect you to be real polite and use your words.” Duck’s voice has never been like this before, rough and possessive yet still, under all of it, the same warmth draws Indrid in like a flame.

“I want you, Duck.”

A bite to his ear, strong arms wrapping around his waist from behind him, “Want me to do what?”

“Fuck me” this is like every wet dream he had as a teenager, the supernatural being coming for a fellow outsider.

That gets him a tender kiss on the cheek, “That’s better. Though, if I’m rememberin correctly, word you used was punish.”

Indrid yelps as Duck turns and shoves him to lay across his lap, kicks his legs out in surprise when his waistband slides down to his upper thighs.

“Yesss” he wiggles his ass as Duck palms it, “yes, Duck, pleaseAHgod” the first strike stings, and Duck doesn’t let him recover before delivering five more, three to each side. His cock perks up at the pain. Stranger still, because Duck is invisible, all Indrid has to do is tilt his head to watch it harden and twitch with each slap.

Twenty strikes later Duck pauses, hand rubbing soothing, cool circles on the burning skin, “Learned your lesson?”

“Mmhmm.” Indrid presses an awkward kiss to Duck’s knee.

“Glad to hear it.” Duck hauls him up onto his knees, slides a hand under his shirt and up his chest, “I’m rarin’ to feel more of you--holy fuck”

“AH!” Indrid arches as Duck toys with his left nipple piercing, his other hand quickly finding the right.

“God, fuck, you’re fuckin hot, if I were alive I woulda taken you home first time I saw you.” Messy kisses cover his neck as Duck tugs the piercings.

“Gaahnnyes, that’s, that’s very flattering.”

“Ain’t flattery, sugar, it’s the truth. Never could turn down some skinny punk with piercin’s and messy hair, not when I was a teen burnout hidin in the woods and sure as hell not now.” He moves Indrid onto his back, rucking up his shirt as his legs twist in his half-down pants. The ranger cups his face, and Indrid is positive he’s meeting his eyes, “tell me what you want sugar, tell me so I can treat you right.”

“Marks, I want marks anywhere you’ll give them.”

A growl from above him, then lips smashing into his, drinking him in before continuing down his throat, biting and sucking hard enough that he cries out every time. Duck pauses, teasing his nipples with his tongue as he rakes his nails up his sides. He sits up and for a horrible moment Indrid loses him. Then with glee he watches five red marks drag down his chest. He moans, rolling his hips and discovering just how closer Duck’s clothed cock is to his own. The contact only feeds the rangers eagerness, and Indrid is tosses and turns as he sucks, bites, and scratches, laying claim to the illustrated expanse of his body.

“More, please, god that all feels so good.”

“Don’t worry darlin, still got plenty of you to mark up, but we’re gonna do somethin else while I do.” He eases Indrid onto his stomach, slaps his ass fondly, “don’t go nowhere.”

Indrid’s duffel bag unzips, clothes and pens moved aside until a bottle of lube hovers in the air. The tube compresses and drips coat the rough outline of fingers. When the two digits press into him he sighs, eyes closing as he melts under Ducks watchful eyes.

“That’s it ‘Drid, relax for me. Got well over a year of horny to work out, so this cute ass needs to be ready to take it.”

Indrid pushes his hips back in reply, taking as far as the fingers will go and whimpering excitedly when he presses in the tip of the third. Duck works that one more carefully, kissing Indrid’s face and shoulders as he whispers about how good he is, how much he’s wanted this.

“I want it too so for, for goodness sake please fuck me soon or I’ll leave my entire cooler out for the bears.”

“Only one bear in this campsite tonight darlin.” Duck laves his tongue down the base of his spine, bites down hard on his ass. Indrid’s still moaning from the pain when his cock pushes in.

“Fuuuckme that’s good. Shoulda snuck into your tent sooner, sugar, made you a fuckin cocksleeve you feel so fuckin good.”

“Ohgod” is all Indrid, voice muffled by the sleeping bag he’s biting, manages before Duck adjusts them so Indrid is on his knees. The ranger isn’t gentle, pounds into him like he’s nothing but a warm hole and chuckles whenever Indrid moans.

“H-handprints, Duck, want hand prints GAHyesyesyes” he struggles to move in time with the ghost as the air fills with ear-splitting slaps. He’s so close, the pain and the sensation of phantom fingers claiming his body making his body beg for release. When he slides a hand down to jerk himself off, the arm twists up and stays trapped against his back.

“You wanna cum, you know what to do.”

He blinks away the ecstatic tears, words raw in his throat, “Please let me cum, Duck. I want to, need to cum while you fuck me pleaseplease-” he cuts off into whine as the ghost works his cock hard, all the while jamming into him hard enough that the smooth fabric of the sleeping bag burns his knees. When he cums it’s with a weak cry of Duck’s name, which is swallowed up by hungry lips as Duck kisses him over and over, repeating Indrid’s name like an incantation as he pumps his hips and cums, pulling out as he does so it splatters on the reddened patches of his ass.

A final kiss to the top of his head, and then there’s no contact between them and the zipper is moving.

“Oh no you don’t” Indrid scrambles, sweaty and exhausted, between the tent fly and the invisible man somewhere in front of him, “for goodness sake, Duck, I thought you liked me enough to at least let me fall asleep before you ran.”

The ranger finally appears, hair a mess and cheeks noticeably pink, “‘Drid, all that was amazing, but it’s all I can give you. I, I can’t...you said you were fallin for me and I can’t give you that.”

Indrid cocks his head, “Why not?”

“Because I’m a fuckin ghost, ‘Drid! You deserve to be with a livin’ fella, you deserve someone who can be a real part of your life.”

He crosses his arms, “Duck, you are a real part of my life. Honestly, what part of all the nights we spent together, all the ways we take care of each other, all of this” he points at the rumpled sleeping bag, “suggests otherwise?”

The ghost doesn’t speak, simply hugs himself (or tries to).

“If this is too much, if I’m offering something you do not want, then please tell me. But if this is you thinking that some paranormal quirks keep you from being a worthy partner for me, kindly think again.”

Duck disappears and Indrid is gearing up to try and tackle a supernatural entity when a familiar face buries itself in the crook of his neck. The ghost clings to him, and Indrid clings right back.

“You really wanna give it a go?”

“More than anything.”

Duck lifts his head so their cheeks rest together, “Then fuck it. Let’s see what happens.”

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

Indrid finishes hooking up his lightly used Winnebago, AKA his solution to the lack of available apartments. He’s in a different section of Eastwoods, but he’s happy with his new spot. He opens one of his few boxes, gently lifts the completed model ship into a place of honor, and waits, humming happily, for an unseen hand to knock on his door.

#indruck #monster march #indrid cold/duck newton #reader request #ghost au

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thestarsaroundyourscars · 4 years

Note

Yoo if you’re still taking requests from the kissing prompts can I request “in the moonlight” and “a bet” with reddie please and thank youu!!

Thank you! This prompt is hella old but hopefully you’ll still enjoy it

You can also read it on AO3

“I can't believe I let you talk me into this.” Eddie muttered, letting Bev drag him through campus, towards the bonfire party.

“It will be fun!” She promised with a grin. As they got closer, Eddie heard the shouts of drunk college students over the noise of crackling flames.

He let out a sigh, that didn’t sound fun at all. “Just promise me you won't ditch me.” Eddie said. The last thing he wanted was to end up alone, in a party he didn’t even want to be in. “You're the only reason I'm here.”

Bev looked at him over her shoulder, one of her eyebrows raised. “Really? You're not secretly hoping that Richie will be there?”

Eddie spluttered, cheeks flushing pink. “What? Why would I― I'm not―” Bev was snickering and he glared at her half heartedly. “Shut up.”

It wasn’t like she was right. He wasn’t hoping that Richie would be at this silly bonfire. Eddie was sure he would be there. Unlike him, Richie never missed a party. But Eddie was, in fact, hoping to see him tonight, to spend time with him. He thought he had been subtle about it, but it seemed Bev was onto him.

The bonfire came into view. People were drinking and dancing around a large, burning pile of wood. Eddie wrinkled his nose, who thought it was a good idea to have a bunch of drunk people near a fire?

“See? Fun!” Bev said with a delighted grin, she released Eddie's arm. “Alright, I'll get us some drinks.”

“I told you not to leave me!” He said, shaking his head.

But Bev was already walking away. “I'm not leaving you! I'll be right back!” She shouted over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

It was a lie.

Eddie waited at the spot where she left him, shifting uneasily on his feet. But when she didn’t return he found an empty log and sat on it, glaring at the flames.

He was considering going back to his dorm when someone sat down next to him. Eddie looked up to find Richie grinning at him, the sight made his heart skip a beat.

“Hey Eds, having fun?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Because being surrounded by drunken idiots is clearly my idea of fun.”

“Well, at least the bonfire is cool.” Richie said, bumping his shoulder against him.

He chuckled, looking at the flames and shrugging. “Yeah, I guess.” Then his nose scrunched up. “But I'm not looking forward to my clothes and my hair smelling like smoke for an entire week.”

Richie leaned forward in one fast movement, startling him. His first thought was that Richie was going to kiss him, which made no sense, but it still made his heart speed up. Instead, Richie pressed his nose to Eddie’s hair, taking a deep breath.

“Smells good to me. Soapy and clean, pure Eddie.”

Eddie's cheeks were burning, he pushed Richie away with a light shove. "Well, I haven’t been here for long."

“Is that why you don't have a drink yet?”

“Bev said she would get me one, then she disappeared.”

Richie chuckled softly. “Yeah, I saw her talking to Ben and Mike. That's why I came looking for you. I figured you would be around here somewhere, glaring at people who actually know how to have fun.” He smirked at Eddie. “And I was right.”

Eddie huffed indignantly. “I know how to have fun. This―” he gestured vaguely around them, “―is just not it.”

“Alright.” Richie said, pausing to drink from his beer bottle while giving Eddie a considering look. “Tell me what would you be doing if Bev hadn’t dragged you here?”

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek. The truth was, that before Bev barged into his room and dragged him outside, he’d been looking for something to watch on his laptop, ready to spend his Saturday night under his covers, watching movies. Richie clearly expected something like that, if his smug expression was anything to go by. "I can be fun." Eddie said instead, making Richie laugh out loud.

"Sure you can, Eds." He said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Eddie glared at him, and when Richie raised his bottle to drink more beer he reached over and snatched the bottle away. Without giving it much thought, he brought it to his lips and, ignoring Richie’s protests, he gulped the beer down.

His face scrunched up at the taste, but he didn't stop drinking until the bottle was empty. Richie was staring at him, wide eyed and with a slight flush on his cheeks. It made Eddie feel slightly flustered himself.

He cleared his throat and tried to make his expression smug. “See? I’m fun.”

“The life of the fucking party.” Richie agreed with a chuckle.

“Mmm, exactly.” He didn’t understand how he felt a bit tipsy after only half a bottle of beer. The last thing he needed was for Richie to also tease him for being a lightweight. “I'm the most fun person on campus.”

Richie gave him an uncharacteristically soft smile. “You're certainly the cutest.”

The words made blood rise to Eddie’s face. Before he was forced to respond to that, they heard catcalls and whistles coming from a group near them. When they looked over, they saw two people kissing in the middle of a circle. Richie noticed the way Eddie’s nose scrunched up and said, “I think they're playing truth or dare. Wanna go over there Mr. ‘I'm the most fun person on campus’?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Richie, that game is just an excuse to make out with strangers.”

“Duh. That's what makes it fun.”

“You know what's not fun?”

“You?” Richie supplied with a smirk.

“Mononucleosis.” Eddie finished, and Richie tossed his head back with a laugh.

“I mean, you could always choose truth. You look like the kind of guy who picks truth every time.” He said with that same smug expression from before. It bugged Eddie, especially considering Richie was right. On the rare occasion Eddie had attended parties in high school and was roped into games of truth or dare, he always stuck with truth. It was safer. And boring, according to Richie.

“You're wrong.” Eddie lied as best as he could. “I picked dare all the time, and I never backed down.”

“Is that so?” Richie said, eyes sparkling with interest. “So if I were to dare you to do something right now, you'd do it?”

Eddie hesitated. He wanted to prove Richie wrong, but he was nervous about what he would dare him to do. Sure that Eddie would back down, a smile slowly appeared on Richie’s face.

That smug smile was what ultimately made Eddie say, “Yeah. I'll do it.”

He regretted it when Richie’s smile turned devious. “Well then. I dare you to kiss someone.” He said, looking at him with a challenge in his eyes, like he was certain Eddie wouldn't do it, not after he just finished talking about mononucleosis and the risks of kissing strangers.

Eddie’s lips flattened to a thin, stubborn line. “Anyone?”

"Yup." Richie shrugged. "Your choice Eds, just find someone at this bonfire and kiss them. Live a little."

Eddie looked around, his bottom lip caught between his teeth while he weighed his options. He could say no, Richie would tease him but he would never force Eddie to do anything he didn’t want to do. Kissing a stranger was out of the question, just thinking about it made him shudder. He guessed he could find Bev and give her a quick friendly kiss just to shut Richie up. Or―

Eddie looked at Richie. He was used to denying it, but Eddie knew he liked him. He liked his blue eyes, his ridiculous glasses, his messy curls. And he liked how he made Eddie laugh. How he could go from making a joke to talking him down from a panic attack in less than a second. He liked how he seemed to know Eddie better than anyone, even if they had only known each other for a year.

He wanted to kiss him. He could kiss him. And if Richie didn't kiss him back, he could just brush it off as part of the joke. No harm done. And if he did kiss him back, well― Eddie wouldn’t mind.

“Backing down, Eds?” Richie asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“No, just thinking.”

Richie opened his mouth, ready to make another teasing remark, but Eddie cut him off before he got the chance. He closed the space between the two and pressed their lips together.

He heard Richie make a surprised noise and felt him go stiff as a board. Eddie started to panic when he didn’t kiss him back right away but before he could even think about moving away, Richie was grabbing his shoulders, and his lips were moving. Eddie didn't even care about the taste of beer shared between them, kissing Richie was better than he ever imagined. He placed his hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

It wasn't until they heard a few catcalls that may or may not have been directed at them that they pulled away, both of them a little flushed. The way Richie was grinning at him eased the last of Eddie's nerves.

“Still think I don't know how to have fun?” Eddie asked, voice slightly breathless.

“A little.” Richie replied, and Eddie pushed at his chest but he was smiling. “You definitely know how to kiss, though.”

Eddie felt his stomach flip. “Oh. Thanks.” He mumbled shyly.

“Can I ask why me?”

The question brought back Eddie's worries. Kissing Richie was one thing, blatantly admitting that he liked him was way more nerve wracking.

He offered a noncommittal shrug. “You were the closest to me.” He said as nonchalantly as he could.

But Richie's grin widened, like he didn't believe Eddie at all. “Oh really? So you would've just kissed any guy like that?”

“I might've.”

Richie rolled his eyes, he moved closer until their faces were only inches apart. “Right. See, here's the thing, Eds. I don't think you would've. I think you wanted to kiss me just as much as I've been wanting to kiss you.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. “Wait, what?” When he had first realized he liked Richie he didn’t want to get his hopes up, knowing it would be worse if it turned out Richie only saw him as a friend so he never entertained the idea that he might like him back.

“Let’s just say,” Richie began, his hand softly holding Eddie’s cheek. “If you had dared me to kiss anyone at this bonfire, I would’ve also picked you.”

“Oh.” Eddie gasped, his heart hammering in his chest. Richie leaned in to kiss him again, without anyone daring him to do it.

And just as their lips touched Eddie thought that maybe this time, just a little bit of hope would be alright.

Tag list: @daddyphantomtbh @yes-dillman-yes @richietoaster @beepbeeprichiellc @its-stranger-than-you-think @lemonaayyee @losers-gotta-stick-together @tinyarmedtrex @richiefuckfacetozier @sam-i-am2468 @stylesmelon @s-s-georgie @reddie-for-anything @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @constantreaderfool @hammockrichie @jesuschristsupruvestar @mirandonsky @reddie4diaster @alargedepresso @purplepoisonedgem @pan-ini @reddie-to-cry @reddieforlove @trashmouthnick @multi-fandom-wby @wheezyeds @nancynwheeler @reddieslashgeneralhorror @madi-personal @reddie-tozibrak @lover-mouth @atownofeggs @that-weird-girls-blog @appojoos @castielwinovak @a-gay-treee @twoidiotsinl0ve @fcngirltrxsh @spirited-marvel @typewrxter @rebecca-the-queen @juhavs @thegoshdiddlydangdoor @soooobr @purebloodqueen @call-me-bread @britcorn @wickedlyweasley @derpyanimatesstuff @braverthanyathink @s-onora @reddie-stole-my-heart @hammockrichie @s-onora @reddie-stole-my-heart @typewrxter

#reddie #have a cute little prompt #I know it's been a while #monse writes #im-a-rocketman

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marshmallowprotection · 3 years

Text

Kait Reacts To The AE 4/?

Hi! These reactions are written out every time a Chatroom opens and it’s done over the course of the day. So, you’re watching me react in real time as it is for me. So, Spoilers AHOY. Expect Another post like this later today, there is just too many chats to put it all in one post. So, hey, if you click this, you’re opening yourself to spoilers, you make the choice.

[00:23 + Visual Novel]

Hey, hey, hey, it looks like Saeran leaving the chat open was a good thing. It was my hope that it was going to do something like this by him leaving it open because there was only one way this is going. I knew that his brother wasn't going to be able to get a hold of his phone in the situation that he was in and if he did, it wasn't going to be pretty. I know that we got a frantic text from him earlier but it was very vague and he told us not to do anything or come for him. So I'm pretty sure that he's not going to be happy that we're coming for him none the less. It is how to be able to talk to Vanderwood like this, it's been a while. I think the last time consistently that we had contact with them where we interacted with them was during V Route. Ah, Remember When that CG made everyone go crazy?

I honestly wasn't sure that it was sent first to be honest with you and I was kind of concerned that it was the boss. But, we know that tone of voice and that way that they freeze themselves so it kind of took away some of the anxiety that I was feeling.

Vanderwood feels very clearly guilty over what happens because they do continue to apologize to us about it and it's just kind of what they have to do, at least that's what they say. As I said before they were given this Mission without a choice and they make a point to us very clearly that they have no control over it and said we need to stop while we're ahead. Saeran doesn't want to run away or give up anymore. He wants to be able to make his life what he wants it to be and for it to be that he needs to be able to help his brother.

Vanderwood basically spent the rest of the chat telling us about how they view Saeyoung. But, they were talking about him in the past tense because he's likely not to make it to the morning in their opinion. They basically say that we need to turn around right now and run away. They say that they have been the agency for over 12 years and that just makes me wonder about their age even more. I want to say early 30s? They're clearly trying to do their best with what they have on that situation because they need to delete the call log and everything before the boss is it because they have to hand over the phone. So I don't know what we're going to do next with the chat room. I don't know if we can reason with Vanderwood.

They care about Seven but they're not willing to die for him. Saeran begs for anything but they leave.

And then, onto the Visual novel. Saeran comes back to our room and we are fast asleep now. He said he should have hurried but he's happy to lay here with us while he can. There's a lot on his mind, so many ideas and... he is forlorn with so much right now. He doesn't know what he is going to do. He only knows that he feels like he can strive forward because we believe in him and that helps him believe in himself.

In the end, he decides that he doesn't want to run away even though he's scared. He's come to the point where he wants to be able to talk to his brother and work past what happened and what was forced upon him and that's a really big step from where he once was. He knows that he may not be able to handle his trauma response but he wants to try. He wants to give it a chance and he wants to see things through fruition. He really does and as he lays here with the player, the only thing he could think about is how he doesn't want this moment to end and for things to move forward because that means that he's going to have to face his demons. But, he'll do it. He'll do it as long as you're there with him.

[02:22]

I woke up in a daze at four in the morning to do this chat and got seven hearts and one hourglass out of it. I wasn’t all that surprised when it came to what was happening to be honest with you. I knew that once we have Vanderwood around it was going to be... getting serious and now we’ve hit that wall that says that we need to get them to help us. Saeran knows that we need more help but we can’t turn back to C&R or the RFA because they’re still asleep.

There’s only so much that we can do right now and that worries me.

Saeran has really hit that point where he needs to admit that we need help, and he wants to make things right with Saeyoung. I’m happy that he wants to try in a lot of ways even though he knows that it’s going to hurt him sometimes... he still knows that he have to try. We have to see it through.

Even risking it on Vanderwood.

[8:00]

Zen is awake now. He’s... really shocked about what’s going on and I cannot blame him in the slightest for it. He wishes that he could help us but there’s not a lot that anyone can do. Every time this game says fake news, I cannot. I cannot with this game. I see what they’re saying and it only makes me wanna throttle Saejoong with my bare hands. That’s what’s gonna happen before the end of the day, I swear to God. I just hate bad dads. I hate people with this much vitriol in their hearts.

Jaehee and Jumin are still not awake and we have to point out that since they aren’t around, the rumor mill is only going to get worse. I’m worried about them and I’m worried about our friends. I want them to be alright but I know that we are well from out of the woods on this. I’m just happy to talk to Zen, he’s always my trust knight in shining armor. He wants to help us, and honestly, when he said that he never would have let us leave like we did...

I know he’s right. He’s almost in shock over V... and Rika.

It’s the calm before the story. Here comes the visual novel and I really think this is a bad ending that people have been hitting? Can someone tell me if the novel from this hour is a bad ending point? I passed this branch but I don’t know. I’ve been logging what I can about where I think BEs are but I know that I won’t know until I actually hit one. Here’s hoping that I can get this right the first time. If not, well, this blog is gonna be quiet for a WHILE.

And boy, howdy, this visual novel fucked me up.

We’re going into the apartment.

Well, we’re going into the apartment. We have the code and everything and it’s going to be... something. I knew that I couldn’t let him go in there alone because I feared it would spark the BE that I assume is there. So, I went with him and I refused to let him suffer this weight alone. So, hold your breath and here we go into hell. I was worried that Saeyoung wasn’t... okay.

The Prime Minister is gone. Saeyoung is here. We have a discussion about what is really going on. What the deal was and let me fucking tell you that I fucking screeched. I knew it I was right. I knew I was right. All I have to say is that I just fucking knew it. I knew it and I hate that.

I knew that Rika and V were going to do something like this. I didn’t want to think that V was going to do this. I didn’t want to say that Rika was going to use them or kill them to gain her safety from hell but yeah, I knew that it was possible and that was my worst case scenario.

It’s Bad Ending 3 all over again where we have a puppet king. I’ll get to that in a second. Saeyoung is in shock to see his brother and I just... I had to take a moment when i was playing because he was crying, Saeran was on edge, and I was on the brink of tears myself to see them together again. However, I knew that we weren’t going to be able to save him today. My worst thought was Rika AND V using the boys for their own gains. V already went down but while I’m seeing him as the tragic martyr, I really don’t know what I’m supposed to think if he’s willing to do this for Rika.

This is why I tell you to never trust Rika. This is why I said over and over again that it was a trap and she was lying. It’s always about Rika. I don’t care what she intended, this deal with the boss and the Prime Minister was made so they could be puppets. Saeyoung and Saeran were to be used as a ploy to make everyone hate C&R and give power back to Saejoong and the agency.

I’m fucking livid.

However, we came with Saeran, he wasn’t knocked out, and this is why Rika and V kept saying “You’ll be happy even without Saeran” and “I wished that the haven Saeran had with you would be nice but...” Nope. Both of you on literally on my throttle list right now. I don’t know if V would try to help them but how can he at that point? V, you’re driving me nuts. I don’t want to hate you as well but you are giving me a fucking headache. I already know I can’t trust Rika. I can’t believe you’ve made me never want to trust you again, and you’ve always been on thin ice with me.

What’s worse, is that I knew what was coming after this.

Saeyoung’s deal is that Saeran goes free. As long as Saeran is free, then he will... suffer. He will suffer and play the role until he dies to ensure that his brother can live. There’s tears in his eyes but he’s accepted this fate, he wants Saeran to be happy and free so he’s going to be a puppet for the Prime Minister, Rika, and more. What’s more, is that he’s going to destroy C&R with a secret he knows about them to ensure that Saeran can leave, that we can leave this him and ensure he’s safe and happy.

Saeyoung would do anything for his brother, and Saeran knows with tears in his eyes that his brother hasn’t changed. He’s still in there. That hatred that was put on him was... not okay. He knows, he can see it in his heart that he can’t be mad with his brother right now. He wants to save him but here Saeyoung is again, about to give up everything for him.

Saeyoung would do anything. Anything. For his brother. That kind of love is... I don’t know. It’s strong and true. He knows that by doing this, it means that his friends will suffer the most. He knows that... everyone will hurt, but he has to do this for Saeran. He has no choice. We have no choice. He has to be a puppy, and he tries to reassure Saeran... tries to make sure that he knows that he loves him and that he’s happy he’s safe and...

I cannot express most of my thoughts. I’m crying?

Saeyoung feared that Saeran hated him all this time because he left him behind but he sees us with Saeran, and he decides that we’re a good person. He trusts us with him and he wishes us the best. Then, he makes sure that we leave, he gets Vanderwood to take us out. Saeran is in a state of shock about this and he cannot speak, we have to leave with Vanderwood in tow. When we’re gone, Saeyoung says that he won’t do shit until we’re out of the building and gone from here.

“I’ll be your puppet when I know he’s safe.”

“Before I let you do that, tell me about C&R and what you know. You owe me now, so you better pay up.”

I was still in tears when Zen called, but that was more or less him just making sure we were okay and that... you know, Saeyoung... I couldn’t even tell him that we couldn’t save him. I just said, “We WILL save him.” Because, neither Saeran nor I are going to rest here. This is not the end.

[09:45 + Visual Novel]

Alright, I knew that something was going to happen with Vanderwood after this. They kept Saeyoung’s phone. I knew that I could trust my gut with them, I know they won’t die for Saeyoung. However, they’ve been with him long enough that they look out for him like he’s their pesky child. I appreciate that, and God, if you like Vanderwood, you’re just getting fed right now. I honestly love to get more in their head because we hardly ever have gotten a chance for that in the past and it just helps me confirm that they’re such a Tsundere.

I have to agree with them. I know that the agency isn’t going to hold up their end of the deal. People like that? Yeah, no, I can’t count on them. They’ll be sure to go ahead and kill not only Saeran, but us as well. That clears up everything that they could have ever had a problem with. Saeyoung will be a puppet for them as long as he breathes until they don’t need him anymore. And, the agency will kill us and simply tell him that we’re alive.

They’ll likely doctor photos if Saeyoung ever presses, but honestly, I don’t know how could have faith in them knowing about the deal. Even Vanderwood tells us what I suspect.

Yeah, and I know that I’m not wrong about that. People like this are cut-throat and they simply do not care. It’s a short chat and then we jump into the Visual Novel really quick. Saeran is still... having a moment, but we talk it through an he confirms once more that he... knows that Saeyoung wasn’t lying. He could feel it in his heart and see it in his eyes. He blames himself for believing the lies but we reassure him that it’s going to be okay. He was a child. It’s not his fault. He was the one that was tricked and manipulated.

You once again get to decide if you want to abandon everyone or if you want to try to save him. Vanderwood texts you a location to meet and now we’re going to try and meet with them. I decide that we’re not stopping until we’re saving him and Saeran agrees. We can’t let Saeyoung suffer and there’s just too much to leave him. We won’t be safe until we have Saeyoung with us.

And... then we go back to Saeyoung.

He’s playing the part of a puppet. He lies on camera and says everything was just a farce. “I’m not really the son of the Prime Minister. My mom just told me that and I wanted to get his attention, so I acted out like a child the entire time and fortunately, the man has forgiven me for acting like a child.” I’m unable to really focus on this because it really hurts to see Saeyoung like this.

I’m having call backs to Savior Saeran.

I just... it hurts to see this. There’s not a lot to point out here other than the fact that he’s suffering so fucking much. The boss orders Vanderwood to knock him out, and Saeyoung pauses, demanding that he knows that we got away and that we’re safe. The boss says no. Vanderwood quickly flashes the chat log to him and then knocks him out after the boss orders him. This agent is on really thin ice right now but they’re really risking everything to do this. This is a fine line to walk and I’m happy they are on our side for now.

And now as for the secret that we know about C&R?

Oh my God. Jumin was using an implant on Elizabeth whenever something happened as a digital marker for deals and agreement. Nobody would have ever suspected anything at all when Elizabeth was in the room! They merely think that Jumin is just really fond of his cat, and we know that he is, but wow, this man thinks of everything, doesn’t he? They’re about to cat-nap Elizabeth to get their hands on deals, marking, and more. This is everything that C&R has and it isn’t just what the public knows, it’s a mark of everything that happens down to the letter.

They wonder if Saeyoung is lying, though, even though Vanderwood has found a trace.

But...

There’s a phone call with Saeran after this but it’s mostly just us confiding in each other and talking about our next move. We’re going to Vanderwood and we aren’t going to stop until we rescue Saeyoung.

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cowboisadness · 3 years

Text

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x FemOC} Chapter 9

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

Warnings: None

.....

The strong, bitter smell of coffee filled my nose and woke me. My back aches and eyes sting when trying to open them. The faint morning glow stabbing the back of my eyes. A noise from beside me wakes me further. That's when I realised I was laying against something apart from the log at my back. Opening my eyes I'm met with the smouldering fire ahead and Arthur laying right beside me, my head against his shoulder and his head propped up against mine. Arthur stirs and Pearson comes into view, adding a few more sticks to the fire and checking the coffee pot. Groaning from the intense headache and pain in my neck as I sit up, waking Arthur fully as I do so.

“Morning folks. Coffee is ready, no doubt y'all need it.” Pearson grins at us as he pours the coffee into two tin cups.

I look to Arthur, hungover evident in his features as he scowls and lets out a groan. We look at each other, smiling shyly and slightly embarrassed at the whole situation. Pearsons hands us the steaming cups and we murmur our thanks, not even prepared to move ourselves from the floor. We sipped our coffee in silence for a few minutes. Wishing for the intense headache to subside soon and hoping the unease in my stomach won't be the alcohol trying to make an appearance.

“I wanna die” I murmur into my cup

“Me too.” Arthur murmurs back

“I’ve never been that drunk. Does it always hurt like this?”

“More or less” He takes another sip of his coffee

I groan, wondering if this feeling is going to last all day. If so, today is going to be fun, to say the least. I’d love nothing more than to curl up on some bear hides and sleep till dusk.

We sit in silence for a while, as the others slowly wake, some looking just as much of a sorry state as we do. After our second cup Dutch calls for Arthur from his tent and he leaves with a groan to see what he wants. I stayed seated on the floor, not daring to get up as every movement inflicted some variant of ache and the threat of my stomach emptying its contents.

“You look worse than I feel” That Irish tone appeared from nearby at the fire. Sean pouring himself a cup.

“I’m trying not to vomit.” I grinned weakly as I looked up to him. He nodded in understanding, sitting on a crate nearby.

“So, tell me more about how your Knight in shining armour saved you.”

I couldn't help but giggle, my hand shooting to my stomach to ease the sudden and threatening twinge.

“My husband is one mean bastard…”

“You're married?”

“Unfortunately. Arthur, Dutch and Hosea were in the process of robbing him. I got caught up in it. Got out of the gunfight that ensued and asked, well, begged him to take me somewhere else. Passed out due to a few broken ribs and woke up here.”

“Damn what a shit show. You got somewhere you'll be moving onto, or will you be staying with this bunch of degenerates?”

I look around the camp, everyone now up and preparing for the day. Little Jack playing with a bunch of flowers, tongue out in concentration. Abigail watching over him as she collected clothing to be washed. Hosea and Lenny sat at the table playing what looks to be a very competitive game of dominoes. Pearson preparing today's breakfast at the food wagon. Sadie sat on a rock at the edge of the overlook, taking in the views and seemingly lost in thought as the morning sun beams down onto her. Mary-Beth and Tilly stitching garments in their hands, sharing a few laughs between them. Javier sat on his bedroll sharpening and cleaning one of his knives, all his attention on the task in hand. Strauss with his book in hand, that thing seems to be in his grasp as often as a bottle is in Uncles. Arthur stood at Dutches tent, talking about whatever jobs that need doing or what their next move should be to gain more money no doubt. Dutch is rambling on as Arthur listens, hands resting upon his gun belt, nodding along to whatever Dutch is saying to him every so often.

“I think I’ll stay.” I say unsure if I was answering Sean’s question or telling myself.

------

After a few hours of chores and making myself busy around camp, the hangover slowly began to ease. The distraction and the emptying of my stomach by one of the trees in the outskirts definitely helped. It was at that moment I vowed never to drink that excessively again. Lesson learned.

I sat with Jack, watching him play with his two wooden horse toys. He was bored and Abigail had become restless with his constant need for attention and questions so I was doing my best to entertain him to give her a few moments of peace and to complete whatever tasks Miss Grimshaw had asked her to do.

Watching Jack as he played out the story he imagined for his little horses Arthur came over to us. A slight smile on his face as he watched the boy play contently.

“Whatchu up to?”

“Playing”

“Anything fun?”

“I guess”

“You wanna come fishing with me?”

“Fishing?”

“Sure. It’s about time that you started to earn your keep.”

“Okay.”

“Good. Go get your pole then. You do have a fishing pole don't you?”

“I sure do! Uncle Hosea made me one.” Jack stood, little horses and their story now forgotten about in the dirt.

“Well go get it then. Let’s catch us some fish.”

“Yeah!” He almost shouted, running off into the direction of his tent.

We both watched as he went with a little skip in his step. Excited about having something new and different to do.

“You, er, wanna come with?” Arthur said, going through his satchel to pull out his cigarettes. Lifting one to his mouth and then lighting a match with the bottom of his boot.

“Sure. I don't have a pole though. But I could catch a few rabbits or something while there.”

He nodded then made his way over to his horse, giving him a brush down while he waited for me and Jack.

Thankfully we didn't need to go far from camp as the Dakota river was only a minute ride away. Jack sat in front of Arthur and I kept up beside them listening to their conversation. Asking if Jack was feeling better from recently being ill and Jack mentioning a storybook he left back at the camp in Blackwater.

We all dismounted at the riverside, the two boys making their way to the water to ready their poles as I readied my bow. Telling them I won't be far before making my way towards the gathering of trees nearby but far enough away from the dirt roads that noise shouldn't be an issue. It didn't take long to find a few Black-Tailed Rabbits hanging around the area, as well as a few squirrels running through the bushes and up the trees.

I knelt in an area void of sticks or piles of dead leaves, skimming my eyes over land ahead of me, waiting for that unsuspected rabbit to place itself in my line on sight.

Four rabbits later I returned to the boys at the river. Jack now sat nearby, flowers in his hands and a pile at his feet. A child that age doesn't seem to have the attention span for something like Fishing, something that takes a little patience. We should have known he would have gotten bored of it quickly.

“Catch many?”

“Uncle Arthur has!”

I smiled at Jack and walked over to Arthur who was currently battling a fish as we speak.

“Can I borrow your knife to skin these? I still don't have one.” I said as I held up my catch.

“Sure. It's on my belt.” He pulled on the rod, seeming to get frustrated that this stubborn fish wouldn't give up.

I sat a little aways from Jack, glancing over to see him delicately chain each little red flower together. His tongue sticking out from intense concentration.

For a few moments, it was quiet and peaceful as I skinned and salvaged the usable meat. Arthur muttering praises then whispered curses to the fish he finally reeled onto dry land. Holding them up to get a good look before throwing the back into the river.

“Hey, look at this.” Jack proclaims, holding up the completed chain of red flowers as far as his little arms to reach.

“At what?” Arthur says, kneeling in front of Jack to see his creation.

“This necklace I made.”

“Necklace?”

“For Momma. I made one for you too Miss Bella.” He grabbed another chain of red flowers from his side, handing it over to me.”

Putting down the knife and rubbing my bloodied hands on my pants I then reached out to take it. A smile beaming on my face and heart swelling twice its size at this adorable and thoughtful gift. “Thank you, Jack. It’s beautiful.” I place the necklace over my head for it to lay around my neck as delicately as possible. Worried that I might pull it apart accidentally. Thankfully I don't. A necklace like this is more valuable than any gold or jewels and should be treated as such.

In these few moments, we are seemingly so distracted by what is going on that none of us noticed two men appear nearby on horses until one of them speaks.

“What a fine young man…” One man says as he strides towards us, dressed in fine clothing. Bowler upon his head and a badge on his lapel. “And in such complex circumstances. Arthur, isn't it? Arthur Morgan?”

The other man dismounts his horse and cocks his rifle. Not saying a word but striding towards us too. Weapon rested on his shoulder. A badge adorning his lapel also.

The three of us stand to the attention of these unwanted strangers. Arthur ushering Jack to stand behind him. “Who are you?” Arthur says, an air of confusion and wariness in his voice

“Yes, Arthur Morgan. Van der Linde’s most trusted associate. You've read the files, typical case, orphaned street kid seduced by that maniac's silver tongue and matures into a degenerate murderer.” He turns to his friend beside him, both nodding in agreement.

“Agent Milton. Agent Ross. Pinkerton Detective Agency seconded to the United States Government.” They finally introduce themselves, taking slow but sure steps closer towards us. My heart starts racing, cursing myself for leaving my gun back at camp. I look down to the knife still on the floor beside me along with the rabbit remains. I’m sure Arthur could deal with them himself if it came to it but with Jack here it was too much of a risk. There is no way I could bend down to pick it up now with both their beady eyes on us, watching our every move. If I went for it when and if shooting started that would leave Jack more in the open and more at risk. Instead, I keep it in my sights and hope it doesn't come to that.

“Nice to finally meet. We know a lot about you.”

“Do ya?”

“You’re a wanted man, Mr Morgan. Five thousand dollars for your head alone.”

“Five thousand dollars? For me? Can I turn myself in?”

“We want Van der Linde.”

“Old Dutch? I haven't seen him for months.”

“That so? Because I heard a guy fitting his description robbed a train belonging to Leviticus Cornwall up near Granite Pass.”

“Oh, ain’t that a little old fashioned nowadays?” He huffs a laugh.

“Apparently not. Listen, this is my offer, Mr Morgan. Bring in Van der Linde and you have my word, you won’t swing.”

“Oh, I ain’t gonna swing anyways Agent, um…”

“Milton.”

“You see, I haven’t done anything wrong aside from not play the games to your rules.”

“Spare me the philosophy lesson, I've already heard it. From Mac Callander.”

“Mac Callander?”

“He was pretty shot up by the time I got to him so really it was more of a mercy killing. Slow. But merciful.”

Arthur fling the pole he was still holding to the ground, losing his composure but still trying to keep some sort of calm when given this information. His fists balling at his sides but keeping one close to the holster at his side. Jack jumps and gasps at the sudden outburst so I grab his shoulder with one hand to gently guide him to stand behind me.

“You enjoy being a rich man's toy do ya!?” There is a low growl to his voice, fury slowly pooling out with every word.

“I enjoy society, flaws and all. You people venerate savagery and you will die savagely! All of you.” The Agent gets up closer to Arthur, pointing his finger in his face to try and be imposing towards the man that is twice his size and could possibly snap him like a twig.

“ Oh, we're all gonna die, Agent”

“Some of us sooner than others. Good day, Mr Morgan.” With that, he turns and walks away. It wasn't till now that I realised the other Agent had his rifle up and aimed at Arthur and by the looks of it, Arthur might not have noticed either as he kept his eyes on the one now with his back turned. The other man starts to back away keeping his eyes on us but slowly lowering his weapon to the ground.

“Enjoy your fishing kid. While you still can.” It's all he says before turning as well. Both of them mounting their horses and riding off. Neither I or Arthur took our eyes off the two men until they were clearly out of sight.

“Who were they?” A little voice pulls us back, Jack now moving from behind us.

“No one to worry about, no one at all. Come on, let’s pack up your things and get home.” Arthur places his hands on Jack to steer him away. All of us collecting our belongings and mounting up as quickly as possible.

My heart began to slow as we mounted and made our way back but I had questions and it seemed Jack had a few too. He has a bounty on his head? And five thousand dollars no less? It can't be true. How would he get a bounty of that sum? I was told by Mary-Bath that they all lived near Blackwater before having to leave quickly but she never said why. I never had a reason to ask. I always knew travellers and outlaws moved from place to place quite frequently and some were known to be right bastards that needed to be hanged for the horrific crimes they committed but...this gang ain't like those, they don't hurt and kill for the simple fun of it. Maybe I should ask him at some point. My logic being if I am to stay and live amongst them I should know what to say or how to act if the Pinkertons come around again. I should know what I’m truly getting myself into.

We made it back to camp quickly, Arthur looking around us momentarily to make sure we had not been followed. He let down Jack before dismounting and making his way over to Dutch with urgency.

Whatever questions I have, they could wait for now.

#hang em high #hang em high fic #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan fic #rdr2 #red dead redemtion 2 #red dead redemption 2 fic #arthur morgan

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wwilloww · 4 years

Text

SH. (they/them v.) | jjk

THIS VERSION IS WRITTEN WITH THEY/THEM PRONOUNS. YOU CAN READ WITH SHE/HER PRONOUNS HERE

PAIRING: Jungkook x Reader (they/them) ft. OT7

RATING: Explicit.

GENRE: NonIdol!Au. Wilderness!Au. f2l. Smut. Fluff.

WC: 6k

SUMMARY: How could you say no to a month away in the mountains with your friends after six months of grueling quarantine?

WARNINGS: YN is a cuddling fiend. Untimely boner. Handjob. Nipple play. Fingering. Unprotected sex. Size kink. Slight voyeurism. Power play. Dirty talk.

AN: This is a little bit of a test for a potentially longer series. So please please please tell me what you think, what you wanna see, what you think is going to happen!! 💕😉

This version is also a bit of a test. As someone who identifies with multiple pronouns and who has varying levels of comfort/discomfort reading certain reader insert depictions, this felt like the right thing to do with this story. I’m happy to hear your experience with it!

THIS IS GOING TO BE FILTHY STRAIGHT DIRTY FILTH

BAD PLOT ALERT AHEAD

Thank you to @hauntedlilies and @hesperantha for being the most beautiful beta readers ever. And of course, millions of kisses and hugs and thanks to the loveliest @thatlongspringnight for going off a cliff with me last night and helping me to plan ahead.

next chapter ->

|| join the taglist || masterlist || read with she/her pronouns ||

Chapter One

“Shh, baby,” he whispers in your ear. “Do you really want them to hear?”

Still, you can’t help the little “Oh,” that slips from you when he drags his cock out of you oh so dangerously slow and then rams back in.

Each thrust pushes you up against the kitchen counter.

The rest of the boys are in the other room, the movie playing not quite loud enough, filling the space of the previously lazy Friday night.

God, he feels so fucking good inside you. And yet, you hadn’t meant it to happen like this.

You’d always said that summer was your favorite season. But as you watch the light begin to fade from the sky, baby blue transforming into gold flakes of light that whirl across the gravel road, you think you might just have to change your mind.

The light glows and flickers through the pine trees as your car climbs the final hill to your destination. You begin searching for the cabin, although it’s nowhere in sight.

It’s the first day of a season away in the mountains. Two weeks ago your roommate, Namjoon, had bumbled into your tiny city bedroom, and just stood there for a moment before asking if you liked the mountains.

“Sure I do,” you replied.

He grinned. “Would you ever want to live there?”

“I mean— yeah, but like, work and quarantine and—”

“Aren’t you working from home?”

“Yeah.”

“And haven’t we been quarantined — more or less — for six months?”

“Yes…” you said slowly.

“Then if those are your only hesitations, it’s settled!”

You’d stood from your little bed at that point. “What are you on about Namjoon?”

“I got a house in the mountains.”

“You got a house? In the mountains?”

“Details, buddy, details. I’m going, for a month or two — but probably until the spring. And I’d love it if you came with me.”

It was as simple as that.

An offer, presented and received.

Perhaps six months locked away in your tiny city apartment had done you a bit of good. Decisions which you once might have weighed against reasonability or responsibility seemed to fall away. Instead, you did what you needed to do and the rest was up to whim and will. In recent weeks, you noticed it in the smaller things too. Eating when hungry. Moving when restless. Searching out company — virtually or in the form of your very large, but not very cuddly roommate — when lonely.

So when Namjoon offered you a season spent away from the prison walls of your tiny shared apartment, there was no hesitation.

“It’s all taken care of,” he had said with a gentle shoulder nudge when you persistently bugged him about chipping in. “Don’t worry about it.”

And even better than that, Namjoon had somehow rounded up your friends — even Yoongi who no one could tear away from his studio equipment.

The boys had already spent a night up at the cabin while you wrapped up some things in the city, packed a duffle bag, and headed out towards the great, yawning wilderness.

You were excited to see them. Quarantine had left you with little opportunity to spend quality time with your friends, and after 6 months in isolation with your roommate you were socially starved, and frankly, touch starved too. Namjoon tolerated your morning hugs, but the two of you weren’t really on the same page in terms of sharing physical affection the rest of the time.

Still scanning the trees for a cute lil log cabin, your eyes widen in shock as a building comes into view.

This is no cabin.

Before you stretches a beautiful home, designed with a graceful balance of smooth stonework, warm wood, and modern glass. A long driveway winds up a gentle hill. Are you sure you put the right address in? You think as you pull up in front of the house. But through the windows, you can see Jimin standing, waving at you.

What the actual fuck.

You park the car at the foot of the stairs leading up to the house, unbuckle the food from the passenger seat (would you dare risk the safety of Jungkook’s dinner?), and ascend the stairs. The door before you stands twice your height. Wrought iron vines tangle across a warm, dark wood. Just as you’re about to attempt to knock with your elbow, the door swings open.

“Baby!! You made it!”

You’re barely in the door, arms full of takeout, when he comes to wrap around you. It’s like all the time between you has washed away, replaced by the laughter bubbling through your chest. It’s been months since you saw your friend, months since you were held like this. It’s so easy to melt into his touch.

“Not your baby,” you correct, although you smile at the embrace.

“Not yet,” Hoseok teases back. “You know I would give you exactly what you need.”

“Is that a proposition?”

“I’m always propositioning you, it seems.”

You twist around to properly raise your brow at your teasing friend.

“Mhmm, seems like it.”

He winks at you, a playful smile teasing at his features. He bends down to press a kiss to the curve of your shoulder and kind of sways you back and forth. You stumble a bit, still carrying the heavy bags of food, but he holds tight to you anyways.

“Is this all you brought?” Hobi murmurs against you. “Just food? For the whole week? No clothes?”

You laugh. “My bags are in the car. I just figured you all would want to get your greedy little paws in some dinner first.”

“You brought food?” Jungkook peaks his head in from the living room.

“You didn’t think I would forget, did you?”

“You always know exactly how to take care of us, don’t you?” Jungkook comes to grab the three bags of takeout from your hands while Hobi still clings to your back like a koala.

“C’mon, Hobi, lemme go.”

As soon as the words leave you though, you regret it. He loosens his grip on you and the cool wash of the autumn air washes in through the still-open door behind you, replacing the warmth of his touch.

“Promise you’ll be my cuddle buddy during the movie?”

“Course.”

How could you say no?

Perhaps that’s exactly where it all started. With them, there was nothing you wanted to say no to.

After a boisterous dinner, dishes being passed to and fro, jokes being shouted above the racket, more than one glass of wine downed — you all slump on the couches, full and exhausted and content.

“Movie?” Jungkook suggests, one leg thrown over you as you lean into Taehyung’s chest. He strokes your hair gently and you swear you could fall asleep like this, blissed out and wrapped in his arms.

“PJs first,” Jin declares from the kitchen, emerging as he wipes his hands with a dishtowel.

“Ugh, thank god,” you groan, sitting up from the couch.

“I can’t believe you’re wearing jeans,” Jungkook laughs. “What kind of world do you think you’re living in?”

“Obviously one where we put effort into our appearance,” Jimin sings, eyeing Jungkook’s oversized holey t-shirt and sweatpants combo.

“Fine,” Jungkook says. “I’ll change.”

“Where, uh, where should I change?”

“Bedroom?” Yoongi cuts in, not even removing his eyes from his phone screen.

“Oh!” Jimin claps his hands together, turning back to face you. “We saved the best for you. Well, for you and Hobi.”

“Hm?”

“The master suite. There weren’t enough beds — and we figured a king-sized bed for two would be better than the couch for one?”

Hobi chips in: “Unless, of course, you’re uncomfortable, in which case I’ll sleep on the—”

“No, no, no.” You shake your head, stopping him in his tracks. “Nothing wrong with a lil more warmth in the world.”

“Good,” Jimin nods. “We figured putting the two of you cuddle freaks together anyways would be best for our sanity too.”

You sling the duffle bag you left waiting by the front door over your shoulder and follow your friend down a long glass hallway. The night has painted the exterior dark, but as you look down, you realize that the glass above and on either side of you is also beneath you. You’re walking over a bottomless bridge, the swirling darkness beneath you seeming to reach up towards you.

A squeal escapes you and you lunge forward, grasping onto Hobi’s arm.

“Shit!” You basically drag him forward, refusing to let go of him but desperate to get off of the glass floor. He chuckles at you but complies.

“Don’t worry, I got you. I freaked the first time too.”

He wraps you up again in his arms and more or less waddles you forward to where the hardwood begins again.

“See? All safe!”

Heat floods your cheeks as you look back down the long glass hallway.

“It looks a little less terrifying on the other side of it,” you sheepishly admit.

Hoseok chuckles and tugs you forward. You enter a large bedroom. Atop a large platform sits an extra large white bed with throws and pillows. You drop your bag and sprint towards the bed, launching yourself so that you land square in the center.

“Ah,” you sigh, taking what you think might be your first deep breath of the day. You spread your arms and legs out as if about to make snow angels. You prop your head up and take a look around the room while Hobi pads over to a large closet where he seems to already have unpacked.

The room is surrounded on two sides by entirely glass walls. The light that spills from the lamps that have already been lit makes it so beyond the walls, everything looks pitch black. Lush, fluffy carpets are scattered around the room, and in the corner is a small personal library, a little couch, and an armchair. And in the very center of the room is what you can only imagine to be an indoor fire pit.

Hobi throws a t-shirt in your face, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Get changed, slowpoke. I’ll take the bathroom.”

While Hobi changes in the bathroom you pull on the large t-shirt he threw at you and a pair of sleep shorts. While you wait on him, you scroll through your phone.

“Do you know what lies behind this door?” Hobi calls from the bathroom.

“What? No? Isn’t it a bathroom?”

“J-Hope’s hot body!” Your jaw drops before you are letting your phone fall to the mattress beneath you and laughing hysterically. He peeks his head out the door. He’s not wearing a shirt and you swallow quickly as you graze over the soft slope of his shoulders and the chiseled valley of his collar bones. “Aren’t you curious?”

You quickly right yourself.

“Course I’m curious!” you laugh. “Who wouldn’t be curious?”

He grins at you. Sends you a wink.

“All you gotta do is ask, babe.”

“Get dressed, dummy.”

“Dummy that you love,” Hoseok corrects.

“Yes, my beloved little dummy.”

You wave him off and, taking your phone, head out back to the living room.

Jungkook plops down on the couch where he was before, next to you. You’re not sure if you’re hallucinating after so many months apart from your friends, but it seems like he’s hovering. He sat next to you at dinner. Insisted on you staying in the kitchen while he washed the dishes to chat with him. He was waiting for you in the glass hallway too after you had changed, leaning casually as if he had just stumbled in — but other than the master suite, there was nothing on the other side of the bridge. He had been waiting for you.

“I missed you,” he says, a soft smile spreading over his features.

“I missed you too.”

“It’s been weird not having everyone around all the time—”

“--Too quiet.”

“Exactly.”

Your impulse is to ask him where he’s been, what he’s done — but you know. The eight of you have kept in touch regularly over quarantine. Your group chat, while filled with memes, has kept all of you updated on your daily routines for the past six months. You know where he’s been all these months, what he’s done, and yet there is still a new kind of distance.

You think he feels it too because he’s soon opening his arms, inviting you. You crawl over the couch to him and he wraps his limbs around you, cocooning you in a strange but nonetheless comfortable position.

As you sigh and settle into his embrace, you realize he feels like a new man.

There is a quiet kind of confidence to him that you hadn’t noticed before. An ability to sit still and silently and find comfort in that.

God, it’s sexy.

What? Your eyes shoot open at the thought. But before you can do anything about it, Hobi is tripping into the living room. His smile falters when he sees you and Jungkook all wrapped up.

“They promised—”

“I know,” you groan, sitting up from Jungkook. He frowns at the loss of contact. “Come ‘ere.” You reach your arms out towards Hoseok, but instead of joining you and Jungkook he hooks his arms around you and pulls you into his chest as he sits down.

“Like a little ragdoll,” Jungkook chuckles.

“I’m not a doll,” you huff, only upset at just how easy Hobi was able to haul your body across the couch.

“A little bit of a doll.”

Hobi wraps his arms around you as you lean back into him. You’d always end up like this with the young man, one of the two wrapped around the other. It was well known that out of all of your friends, the two of you were the most touchy. However, sometimes it seemed like more than that, as the two of you almost always gravitated towards each other in any group setting. It was just as simple as that. Hobi was by your side, no matter what.

The others come to settle into the living room, setting up in various levels of absolute exhaustion, tangled limbs, or apathy.

Namjoon scrolls through a couple of movies before settling on a title with lots of cars and noise.

The movie starts. Fast and Furious blares through the speakers, startling you slightly. One of those fancy, high-paced car movies. Despite the blasting of stuttering ignitions and roaring of top speed chases, you quickly find yourself drifting off, wrapped in the warmth of Hobi’s embrace.

A particularly loud car engine roars through the speaker and you startle awake.

Jungkook is stretched out lazily, one leg on the sofa, the other leg on the floor. As your eyes trail down his body — collarbone peeking out from his far too large t-shirt, forearms somehow still perfectly defined — you gasp softly when you see what’s tenting in his pants.

Fuck.

He has a boner. Between the thick spread of his thighs, the outline of his more than girthy cock presses up against the fabric of the grey sweatpants. He has a boner from a car chase.

He seems unbothered, unaware, even. You, however, are anything but.

Involuntarily, your mouth begins to water. The shock of seeing him like this reels through you. All you can think of is what it would be like to lean forward just enough, hands sliding up the hard muscle of his tights until your fingertips reached the elastic band of his waist. You wanted to dip your fingers underneath, wrap your hand around the thick girth of him, and lower your lips perfectly around the pink head. You want to sit on that cock, feel the way he fills you up and stretches you so—-

Jungkook catches your gaze. Heat rises to your face, a mix of embarrassment and arousal. As he takes you in, he smiles a little bit and lets his hand tral down his torso to fiddle with the band of his sweatpants.

Fuck.

You can’t be here. Can’t be imagining these kinds of things. Before you can think of what you’re doing, you’re rolling off of Hobi, a sound of question resonating from his chest.

“I’ll be right back,” you mumble, tripping out of the living room and around the corner to the kitchen.

What the actual fuck. What is wrong with you?

You can’t stop the images that flood your mind. Jungkook, towering above you, while you kneel at his feet, cock framed so perfected by your pouted lips.

All you want is to slip underneath the thick duvet of your bed and press the soft silicon head of your vibrator against your clit, working away at the unbearable tension that has built within you until you come. That’s not an option though, as you know tonight you’ll be climbing into bed with Hobi and the glee you first felt when being paired with your favorite cuddle buddy is now entirely by your frustration.

Head spinning, you grab your phone and begin to type into an empty message box.

This dude has a fucking boner, and all I can think of is stuffing it down my fucking THROAT.

What? Who are you going to text that to? Not Hobi, that’s for sure. And you’re sure your friends back home will simply shake their head at your message and respond with a series of question marks.

You shake your phone to delete the message and set it down on the counter. Turning your back, you head to the sink to pour yourself a big glass of water. Maybe some damn hydration will do something to quench this thirsty ass bitch, you think.

The water helps a little, and you gulp it down greedily.

Still, it's as if the image of Jungkook’s fat cock has been burned in the back of your mind.

You sigh and put the glass back down by the sink, looking out the bay window that sprawls over the counter.

You’ve never seen darkness quite like this. Without the lights of the city and with a new moon singing in the sky it seems as if the only light in your little world is that which shines from the house. All that you can really see is the vague silhouette of the mountains surrounding you and your own reflection. God, if only Jungkook were behind you, ramming into you at his own pleasure while you watched the reflection of him chasing his orgasm—

“Who’s cock are you wanting to shove down your throat?”

You freeze, hands curling into fists on the countertop.

“What?” you barely manage to breathe. Slowly, you turn.

Jungkook is standing at the entrance to the kitchen, your still-lit phone sitting on the countertop.

Without considering what you’re doing, your eyes flicker down to the still-prominent bulge in his pants. The gaze lasts only a moment. Half a second tops. It’s long enough to notice the way he strains so deliciously against the soft grey fabric of his sweatpants, the head of his cock clearly outlined against the material. And it’s also long enough for Jungkook to catch exactly where you’re looking.

“Wh— oh.” His lips purse perfectly around the vowel, understanding dawning.

Your mind chugs at hyperspeed, clunking through no reasonable explanation to offer a Jungkook who just very clearly caught you checking his dick out — the same dick you were just about to send a very steamy text about.

“I—” Your voice trails off into nothingness as you grip even tighter to the counter behind you. What is there to say?

“You?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow and takes a step towards you, a smirk playing on his features. “Hm?” His voice has dropped, resonating deep through you, any trace of questioning erased from his tone. “You saw my cock and the first thing you think is to text your friends about how you want to stuff it down your throat?”

“No?”

“So it was a joke then?”

“No, no!” You begin to say Not a joke, I wouldn’t joke about that — but you stop yourself before the damning words can slip your mouth.

He tilts his head to the side, just a bit, and comes to lean against the island, several feet away from you. You can’t help but suck in a deep breath at the divine swirl of playfulness and danger in his gaze. He notes your tight grip on the counter, knuckles turning white.

“I’m not mad at you. A little surprised. Pleasantly so.”

“Pleasantly?”

“It’s a pretty little compliment to have someone you like wanna suck your dick.”

Your eyes widen. “Like?”

He speaks your name slow with a hint of boredom in his voice. “Seriously?”

“Seriously what?”

Jungkook smiles softly at you. “Sometimes you can be so blind.”

“I am not blind,” you huff, crossing your arms over each other.

“For certain things,” he smirks, “It seems you can see just just fine.”

He steps closer to you.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean — I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I —”

“I’m not uncomfortable in the slightest.”

“You’re not?”

You look up at him. There’s something dark, deep swirling in his gaze, and that playful smirk you know all too well dancing in the corner of his lips.

“I just want to know why.”

“I mean—” He raises his eyebrow at you. “It’s been a really long and lonely time in quarantine. Can you blame me?” Rather than bringing closure to the situation, every word you speak only seems to heighten your anxiousness, your speech speeding up, words falling over one another. “Y’all are so fucking hot and I forgot! I forgot, okay! I forgot how to regulate my goddamn libido and my thoughts and forgot what it’s like to be fuc—”

You slap you hand over your mouth.

“You forgot what it’s like to be fucked?” Jungkook laughs.

You pout a little. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m not laughing,” he chortles. He is laughing. “I’m just—” he takes a deep breath to steady himself. “--just thinking that I know exactly what you mean and I — you know,” His hand glides up his chest to rub at his collar bone. His signature nervous tick. He’s still laughing, only nervously now. “You know. You know?”

“What?”

He takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes for a moment. You watch as his chest rises, falls, eyelashes fluttering open again. Suddenly he’s leaning in, both hands on either side of you.

“If it’s a lie—”

“If what’s a lie?”

His nervousness is quickly replaced with the playful smirk you’re so familiar with. “Did you mean it when it was a joke or when you said you wanted to — what was it? — stuff your throat with my cock?”

You gulp.

Now or never, babe.

Quickly, before you can doubt it, you nod.

He grins.

“I have a proposition then.”

“First Hobi, now you?”

“What? What did Hobi say?”

“Nothing — forget it.”

“Okay…” His brow furrows.

“Forget it,” you repeat.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, reading each other’s gaze, trying to calculate exactly what the next step is. Surprisingly, you’re the first one to act, reaching out until your fingertips find the soft cotton of his t-shirt. You twist your fingers into it, not pulling him towards you by any means, but still, pushing him on.

“Proposition me,” you say, the nervousness gone from your voice.

His brows shoot up in surprise, but your gentle touch and the confidence in your voice seems to spur him onwards. “Well,” he starts slowly. “Considering you’re half the reason I’m even in this position—” He steps forward, just enough that you can feel his hardness press into your belly. He puts both hands on the counter on either side of you and leans into you. “I say we just sort this out here and now.”

“What are you saying?” you tease, twisting the fabric of his shirt into your hand, pulling him closer.

“I’m saying, let me fuck you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.” He’s so close that when he speaks, his breath brushes against your lips. “Are you going to let me kiss you?”

“Mhmm,” you hum against him.

He dives in like a starving man, lips pressing hard against yours. His hands begin on your side and slide around to press into your lower, back, pressing you tightly against him.

“Here?”

“Why not?”

You grin.

Your hands begin to trail down his torso, fingers tracing the outline of his abs, which, you think in passing, are far too defined to be real after six months of quarantine without gym access. You reach the band of his sweatpants and don’t hesitate to dip underneath.

Fingers trace over bare skin and you’re surprised to find — he’s not wearing any boxers at all. Your heart rate picks up as you realize he’s been walking around all evening, cock hanging free beneath nothing but a thin layer of grey sweatpants.

Just by pulling slightly at the band of his sweatpants, the head of his cock pokes up, caught between the fabric and his torso. With a wink, you push Jungkook back just enough so that he steps back a couple of paces, moving until his back hits the wall.

“Can I touch you?” you ask sweetly.

He nods, furiously. Reaching down to wrap your fingers delicately around his length, your eyes widen as you realize just how large he is.

Your hand barely even wraps around the girth of him.

His eyes flutter as your grip tightens around him.

“Shit,” he breathes.

Ever so slowly, ever so lightly you begin to stroke up and down the silky skin of his shaft. You watch as pleasure flickers across his face — always transparent, always easy to read. You’d always admired that about him, how he wore his emotions for the world to see. But getting to see the pleasure you caused, you created, worn on his delicate features is nothing like anything you’d ever experienced before.

With a slight twist of your wrist, you have him exhaling sharply.

“Jesus fucking christ, it’s a whole new world with someone else’s hand.”

You begin to drop to your knees, wanting to take him into your mouth. But he’s quick to stop you, hands coming to grip your elbow.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “It’s been too long— if you keep going like that I’m not going to last very long.” He pulls you back up towards him.

You frown at him, almost comically.

“I promise you’ll have another opportunity to suck my dick,” he chuckles, reaching up to pinch your chin. “That is, if you want to do this again.” He presses his lips to yours and your frown is quickly disappearing as he now takes his turn to trail a hand down from your chin. You shiver as he skates around your chest, as he brushes up against your hardened nipples, protruding through your worn-out sleep shirt.

“Stop teasing me,” you whisper, and he grins at you.

“Am I moving too slow?”

“Torturously sl—” Your speech is cut off as he takes a clothed nipple between his fingers and twists, just enough. Your back arches into his touch, and before you know what’s happening, he’s slipping an arm around your lower back and twirling you around so that suddenly it’s you against the cold marble of the island, Jungkook pressing into you.

He kisses you furiously, lips moving against yours as if he’s searching for something.

“What about the others?” you whisper against him.

“What about them?” Jungkook’s hand traces down your torso and comes to tease the band of your sleep shorts. He looks at you, brow raised — a question of permission. You nod, bring your hand down atop his, and guide it underneath your shorts. “I asked you a question,” he says, as his fingers finally dip into your wetness. He slides one finger along your folds. The touch is delicate but the shock of the sensation has you arching into him.

“More, please,” you gasp.

He circles your entrance with a firm touch, before slipping one finger into you. You do your best not to wantonly grind down onto his hand, but you can’t help your hips as they buck up into him when he curls his finger. It’s still not enough though.

“I asked you a question.”

“Kook— please.”

“Answer and I’ll give you exactly what you want. What about the others?” Your mouth gapes open as he adds a second finger and hooks them both against that delicious soft spot within you, so he continues for you. “Do you want them to know I have you underneath me like this? Hm? Do you want them to see you so fucked out with the smallest amount of touch?”

You whimper at his words, but manage to speak, “Right now, just want you.”

He grins. Leans close, right up against your ear and whispers:

“Then why don’t you do your best and stay quiet like a good girl?”

Your mouth drops open at the term of endearment just in time for him to begin thrusting his fingers in and out of you. You bite down on your lip to stop the squeal that threatens to break loose from you.

“God you look perfect,” he whispers. “You fall apart so easily.”

“Mmf,” is all you manage to get out.

And then, all of a sudden, his fingers are ripped out of you and all you feel is empty, sensation lost, the trails of pleasure disappearing as fast as sand through the gaps in your fingers.

“Jungko—”

He silences you by crushing his lips against you. His arms come to wrap around your back and he presses you tight against him. You can feel his erection against your lower belly and you can’t help but push back against it. He groans into your mouth.

“I need you,” he groans.

“Please,” you speak against his lips.

“Yeah?” he kisses the corner of your mouth before kissing and biting down your chin and onto your neck. He keeps one hand at your lower back, keeping you as close to him as he can, the other, coming down to cup your now dripping sleep shorts. He ruts against you, erection pressing lightly into your stomach. “Does this pretty pussy want my cock?”

“God, yes.”

“I need to fuck you. And I need you to stay very quiet so that the others don’t walk in here while my cock is inside of you.” He pulls away from you just enough grap your ass, lifting you onto the island counter. His strength is surprising, but you don’t mind being a little manhandled.

He pulls your sleep shorts to the side, grips his cock, and presses the head to your entrance. You try to slide forward on the counter, try to hook your leg around his back so as to press him into you, but instead he just stays there.

“What a needy little one,” Jungkook growls. And with that, he finally presses into you, his eyes so carefully trained on your every expression.

The smallest of ohs slips from you as he finally bottoms out.

“Fuck, you sound so sweet on my cock.”

You didn’t think that you would break your quarantine chastity in a mountain chalet kitchen with your friend’s cock stuffed deep inside you. You wouldn’t have imagined it would have been Jungkook either — that’s not to say you hadn’t imagined it.

But looking at him, his eyes closed in satisfaction as he finally takes his pleasure — this is all you want.

Throwing your leg around his lower back, you push him further into you. He lets his head fall onto your shoulder, breathing the slightest of groans into your skin.

You continue like that, moving desperately against each other, frantically searching for the pleasure that has been missing for so many months.

And then he’s pulling out of you, lifting you oh-so lightly off of the counter and turning you around. With a hand pressing down on your lower back, your back arches deliciously, ass presented just for him.

He grips his cock tightly in his hand, and runs the head of it through your folds. He presses against your clit and you suck in a breath as he begins to tease you. In response, you roll your hips back at him and he hisses, gripping your hip even tighter.

Finally, he nudges the head of his cock at your entrance and pushes in.

It starts to slip out of you before you can stop it. A long whine, high pitched and needy.

“Shh, baby,” he whispers in your ear. “Do you really want them to hear?”

Still, you can’t help the little huff that slips from you when he drags his cock out of you oh so dangerously slow and then rams back in.

Each thrust pushes you up against the kitchen counter. The rounded pressure, though a little painful, only sparkes a deeper desire in your belly.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whisper.

The rest of the boys are still in the other room, the movie playing not quite loud enough, filling the space of the previously lazy Friday night.

And then he slows. Just enough that he can roll his hips into you at a torturously controlled pace, his cock reaching deeper, more sensitive areas than before.

As if he know what you’re going to do, he wraps his hand around your mouth, stopping your moan in its tracks.

“Do you really want them to know just how desperate you are for cock?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. His hand is so big it covers almost half your face. You imagine his tattoos covering you. This is exactly how you’d like to wear him, his cock deep inside you, his tattoos on beautiful display. “Because tonight, you’re just mine.”

Using the hand he has around your mouth and the other one he has pressed against your belly as leverage, he fucks up into you, hard and fast. The pace is punishing, and exactly what you need.

And just as you feel the pleasure building in your belly begin to climb, dangerously hot and searing you hear:

“What the fuck.”

There’s a figure standing in the doorway, mouth gaping.

Jungkook freezes. Doesn’t withdraw though, his cock still stuffed deep inside you.

“I—” You begin to speak but he raises his hands and you stop dead in your tracks, not sure what you would say anyways.

“By all means, please — don’t let me stop you,” Jimin says.

next chapter ->

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