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#first pic is based off my friends fic 'a year or so with you' by mimiwrites on ao3
roryslut · 17 days
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goth and metal-eurory x f!reader (use of y/n)
brothers best friend‼️ (euro is 19 in a high school type band, reader is a senior) idk how norwegian school works sorry
warnings‼️ smut, drinking and drugs, making out, ass slapping, fingering, oral f!receiving, p in v, gagging, creampie, the L-word, a meer couple sentences that have just a wee bit of degration and exibitionism
(this is based off sum random pic i saw on here and my love for my bauhaus vinyls and obsession w my set up 💪)
thank you all for being so sweet frrr, i’ve been an anonymous rory lover and all of these fics are from the archive of my notes app over the past few months :)
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Y/N is jan axels sister who doesn’t listen to much metal music, she’s more into gothic music. her brother had two friends he started a band with, she only knew the guitarist, oystein, since he was jan’s friend for a while. she stayed upstairs most of the time but around 9 she got sick of all the noise and decided to go downstairs.
As she approached the basement the music grew louder. she opened the door and the music stopped, all of their eyes hit her, making her feel a little embarrassed in her sleep shorts and a sweater.
“jan, can you keep it down or like, idk go somewhere else becuase i am just trying to have some peace of mind…”
the other members looked at jan who said “yeah, yeah we are almost done.”
“thank you” Y/N said leaving and going back upstairs.
“you really let your little sister boss you around like that?” oystein asked, he was a long time family friend and he knew Y/N for a while. they were friends when they were younger but he just kind of changed. “she’s not bossing me around, i just respect her, i mean, she usually is tolerant when we practice at my place.”
oystein looked pretended to be offended “what do you mean tolerant? she should be moved by my amazing guitar skill.” the bassist snickered, “in your dreams” jan replied, making oystein blush a little and the chuckles to grow louder.
oystein sighed and set down his guitar, “im getting a drink,” he states plainly before running up the stairs. he goes to the fridge and retrieves a cold glass of beer. when he closes the fridge door he finally noticed Y/N is also in the kitchen. she is reaching up high to grab a mug from the top shelf but she couldn’t seem to reach it. the sweater she was wearing rode up on her torso, exposing her flat stomach and thin waist which contrasted her full behind, the shorts hugging them well, leaving little room for the imagination. oystein shuttered, he couldn’t tell if it was because he was seeing his childhood best friends little sister all grown up, or because he was overflowing with desire. he will admit it, he has longed for her for at least a decade but nothing ever came of it. she was out of his league and off limits because of her brother, they had hung out a lot as friends but,
(a/n: idk why but when i wrote this i made the back story from euros first person, idk just imagine culkin like narrating idek, good luck.)
“i knew jan protected her with his life. one day when jan and i were in our last year of secondary school, about to graduate, i actually told him how i was feeling. that was unusual to say the least, we didn’t put our emotions into words very often. i told him how i wanted to ask his sister to the prom and how she had caught my eye in the past. he seemed suspicious and hesitant but eventually got the idea and gave me his blessing. i went to the store to get flowers, but they were sold out, i didn’t want to spend gas going to a different store so I just went home. but after that i lost hope, i never went to get the flowers or ask Y/N to prom, i guess i got caught up in the senior work and eventually i graduated, and now i only see her when im at jan’s.”
(okay it’s over, back to third person <3)
he pulled his eyes away and searched for a bottle opener but couldn’t seem to find one anywhere. he held the bottle up to Y/N and she nodded, she swiftly grabbed a spoon. oystein had his hand by the cap and had the bottle set on the table so bug swiftly held his hand in place with one hand and with the other, used the spoon to open the bottle. oystein flinched and shook his hand, Y/N laughed, “it didn’t hurt that bad! and look your bottle is open,” oystein just smiled a little, and Y/N almost melted, his smile was beautiful but he never wore it. “you should smile more.” she she stated facing him. oysteins smile dropped almost immediately but the blush stayed on his cheeks and he reddened as bug inched closer to his face.
“you look nice when you smile,” she says, beaming and brushing a stand of his hair behind his ear smoothly. she walked away, giving oystein a second to breathe and hide the massive boner inside his pants. Y/N had abandoned the mug and grabbed a beer bottle from the fridge and opened it. “aren’t you too young to drink, Y/N?” oystein asked, he was 19 but not that new to alcohol. “no” she replied, “well, yes and no…” she said taking a hearty sip. “how old are you these days?” oystein asked slyly, Y/N replied with her honest age, “i’m graduating in a couple months.” “wow, you are mature beyond your years…” oystein states, smiling. “maybe you are just behind,” Y/N laughs and then drinks more. they are both about halfway done but the weather was kind of nice out. it was a summer dusk so Y/N and oystein went outside to finish beers and while they were out there, oystein couldn’t help but retrieve a rolled blunt from his pocket.
Y/N was a little nervous because they think smoking weed with someone is very vulnerable but they agreed to oystein and they smoked the joint. “i’ve always wanted to do this with you…” oystein admits, “do what?” she laughs, “idk, smoking together, drinking, talking, anything… i’ve always wanted to know you better.” she looks down, “i wanted to know you to, but you always seemed to push me away when i got to close, you never opened up to me after middle school you know…” oystein feels devastated a little hurt hearing this, he keeps smoking. “i’m so sorry if i made you feel unappreciated, Y/N. i really liked you, like really really liked you,” he chuckles. “i promise,” she smiles, still looking down, “really?” she asks. he goes on, “really! you know i was going to ask you to my prom last year, gosh i remember like it was yesterday. i asked your brother for his permission, it was the scariest shit i’ve ever done. and i was going to ask you but the store was sold out of flowers and i guess i just psyched myself out…” he admits, kind of laughing at the story.
Y/N is surprised since he never talks about his feelings this deeply. “wow, i never knew. why did you get psyched out?”
“i don’t know, you were almost two years younger than me but i was a nobody at that school. you were pretty and had good friends and were nice to everyone. i figured another lucky guy had already asked you, i wouldn’t want it make it weird.”
“wow, oystein i wish you told me, i would have gone with you.” Y/N said, he was kind of in disbelief at that.
Y/N smokes the blunt and smiles, content with oysteins confession, “i forgive you, cheers…” she says and holds up the bottle, “cheers to what?” oystein questions. “cheers to confession…” she laughs and they clink the bottles. “i confess that i really liked you too, well before you slammed the door on your emotions… but i know the oystein i knew is still in there.” Y/N says, seriously, almost in a stern tone. oystein was frozen for a moments time but in that moment he felt like he had gained the wisdom of centuries.
oystein finished the blunt and tossed it, and that quickly he grabbed her jaw and pressed his lips to hers for their long awaited kiss. their lips locked together, so perfectly they thought they would get stuck and never pull away. oystein even ran his tounge over her lips, meeting her in the middle when she got brave enough to try a french kiss. she was a little hesitant kissing someone she had known for so long, it almost felt wrong, but also so so right. her hands tangled in his wild hair and he held the back of her neck, his other hand subconsciously creeping up Y/N’s soft thighs.
after another moment which seemed like centuries, they pulled away catching their breath. they began to arrange their clothes and hair back to normal. “oystein?” Y/N asks, “yes?” “does this mean… that you still you know, like me?” oystein blushes “what makes you think that??” he states quickly. “well, you just kissed me like your in love, and… it’s just- also, i could see your boner the whole time.” Y/N admits, oystein was flustered but they laughed it off, his icy eyes locked on hers and he promised-not said, promised, “the second I laid eyes on you I was yours, yes, Y/N, I do like you.” she smiled and put herself in his arms, “good, i like guys who like me…” and then they both started laughing in each others arms like they used to.
“i have to get back,” oystein says getting up and holding the door back into the house open for Y/N but they eventually speak, “have fun with your death metal,” bug says, “its black metal, norwegian black metal…” oystein says smiling, “either way, my bauhaus vinyl is easier on the ears.” she smiles. “well maybe i’ll come up to your chamber and we can listen to it together, how does that sound?” he asks, she responds quickly, “grood… i meant to say great and good, i’m sorry i-.” he had already walked away thinking about how was he going to get rid of this raging boner.
later in the night, the guys had packed up their things, oystein was the last to leave, “hey do you want to stick around and watch a movie or something?” jan asked oystein, “umm, no” he remembered he promised he would go to his sisters room, “sorry man i’m just tired, see you.” and oystein quickly left with his guitar case and pretended to be going out the door but in reality he went to the next floor and knocked on Y/N’s door.
she had been waiting patiently for oystein to come upstairs and when he knocked she started the bauhaus vinyl, hoping he would be impressed with her music taste.
when Y/N opened the door oysteins jaw dropped, she had changed from her pajamas and into a lacey black top and thong that was covered by a sheer robe, tied around her small waist. he couldn’t believe it, she looked so different, so beautiful and enticing, he didn’t know what to say.
“does jan know you are here?” Y/N questioned, oystein shook his head, still in disbelief, “um- can i come in?”
she let him in and he sat on the end of her bed which also was the best place to listen to the vinyl. “do you like it?” Y/N asks. “yes” oystein says smiling, he puts his hands on her waist and begins to inch upwards towards the lacey bra, his hands still over the robe. “i think it’s really sexy…” oystein says continuing, “no,” Y/N laughs taking his hands in her own and interlocking them. “i meant the vinyl, oystein.”
oystein blushed from embarrassment and arousal, “oh- yes that’s really good too.” he nods. she laughs.
she leans into him and their lips meet, his hands returning to her body as the kiss intensified. she reached under his shirt, he felt electrified when she touched his skin and peeled his shirt over his head, quickly reattaching their lips.
the gothic music blasted through the speakers, him still sitting on the bed, she backed away and he bathed in all her glory. she gave him a small tease, untieing the robe and slowly peeling it off her body, revealing her smooth pale skin that shined in the moonlight flowing through the window. the black lingerie contrasted her complexion and he had a sudden urge to strip it off her.
oystein stood from the bed quickly, pulling her in for another kiss, rubbing his large ringed fingers up and down her torso, he reached behind her back and unclipped the bra, letting out a sigh. he pulled it off her, staring for a second at her chest before grabbing her in his hands and fondling her breasts in his hands. “you are so beautiful, god you have no idea what this does to me.”
Y/N moaned at his words which only encouraged him, he latched to her neck and slurped at it like a vampire, letting his teeth graze her soft skin before sucking a hickey onto her throat. “sorry babe, your brother might get mad about that…”
she sighed, “forget about him.” she said, running her hands into his hair. he moved his lips down her body to her chest and began to suckle and kiss her breasts, Y/N continued moaning as she held his face to her, he bit down a little on her nipple causing her to flinch a little and pull oystein by the hair, but he just let out a low moan and the vibrations ran from his teeth to her bud, making her pussy wetter every second. she had to hold on to the desk so she wouldn’t collapse right there.
he got down to his knees, leaving a trail of kisses down her torso. his ringed fingers pulled down her thong effortlessly. he stared at her, but then slid his finger through the folds and penetrated her hole. Y/N let out a lewd noise but oystein didn’t stop, he kept fingering her, making her moan harder and her legs feel like jelly. oystein placed a hard smack on her asscheek and then brought his lips to the clit, kissing and then sucking on it. bug felt close already. “oystein!! i’m gonna- please i’m going to cum”
oystein was suprised that she was going to cum this fast but her pussy leaked all over his hand and he lapped the juices up with his tounge. he stood up and pulled her into a kiss, her cum mingling between their lips, and right then, she came on his fingers- hard, his hand was still on her ass and it held her up since her knees had completely buckled under her.
oystein took down his pants and boxers swiftly, Y/N was suprised at his length, “oystein, that won’t fit!” “i’ll be careful baby” he replies. while he took his pants off Y/N flipped the vinyl which is very important. then he was ready. he took her by the waist and pressed her back to his chest, his hard member pressed between her legs, precum was oozing from the tip of his cock. oystein sat back in the bed, right between the speakers and set Y/N on top of him, spreading her legs. “are you ready?” oystein asks gruffly in her ear, nibbling at the lobe. she nodded and he groaned and his cock twitched between her legs so she wasted no time and grabbed it. she pumped it a few times, lubing it with pre cum and her pussy juices. then she pushed him into her, his cock filled her to the brim. “oh my god,” she muttered, he continued pushing in, inch by inch. she didn’t know if she could take the feeling at first. oystein wrapped his arm around Y/N and grabbed her tit roughly, he began moving her up and down his length. “you are doing so good.” oystein praised as he began to speed up, pounding into her messy cunt. she began to moan louder, over come by the feeling. “let me hear you,” oystein says, “they can’t hear you over the music, unless you want them to you little slut.” he laughs, “yeah, i bet you would like that, if your brother came up here and walked in on his best friend pounding his innocent little virgin sister.” Y/N couldn’t respond more than pornographic moans. “i’m-im” she utters, “oystein, cum-“ she speaks and has and orgasm on oysteins cock. he reaches his other hand around her and puts his fingers deep in her throat, pulling her down on him roughly. she was gagged and fucked into oblivion, his hand squeezing her chest. her moans echoing louding through the room with bauhaus music.
oystein finished inside her, he grunted and spurted cum though her. she was oozing and when he pulled out she sighed roughly and let cum drip and bubble from her hole. oystein left a harsh slap on her ass, almost squeezing it like he was milking her pussy. the whole time serenading her with compliments and love that he had for her. “you did so good, baby, god if i knew that pussy was so good i would have gotten it in grade school.” kissing her neck.
then he left, getting a washcloth from her bathroom to clean them. he got dressed and she pulled on the robe, “are you leaving?” Y/N asks, “i’m sorry- i thought that’s what you wanted, i mean, i would have to leave early tomorrow.” oystein responds “that’s okay,” Y/N says, “do you want to spend the night?”
oystein couldn’t believe it, it’s not like he had never slept over in the house before, he had hundreds of times, but never in your bed. he nodded and got into the bed. they kissed a couple times before he pushed her hair back and stated, “i love you,” it seemed early but they really did love eachother, and they had for years. she blushed and tried to cover her smile with her hand. “i love you, too, oystein, i never stopped once.” she states, cuddling up into oysteins chest and falling asleep.
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「 Third Wheel 」°•.
❦ Pairings: Robin Buckley x (fem)Reader ▪︎ [feat. Some Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington]
❦ Summary: You and Eddie get unexpectedly invited along to Robin and Steve's movie night. When the two guys become wrapped up in each other (leaving Robin fed up and tired), you decide it's time to finally make your move.
❦ CW: Angst in the beginning, Steddie in the background, heartbreak, they beat Vecna in '86 and nobody died, Fluff, Mutual pining (Steddie), Friends to lovers, coming out
🛑 18+ MINORS DNI 🛑
❦ Word Count: 2.1k
❦ A/N: Inspired by this cute ass fanart I saw. (it was Eddie & Steve making out while Robin was in the front/corner of the pic looking like 😑. I lost track of it but if I find it again I'll link it here.) The Fruity Four have had me in a chokehold today so why not contribute to all the fics I've been reading lolz.
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The heavy sigh that pushed through Robin's lips had been building up for a long time. Starting sometime around the end of her shift at Family Video. The day was long and tiring, due to it being a Friday. Every family and couple in town, it seemed, wanted to spend a cozy weekend inside. Escaping the chill of late fall heading into winter. Huddled or cuddled together in front of a lit screen and a generous stack of rented movies. Movies that her and her buddy Steve were tasked with supplying. 
She couldn't judge them too much. Her and Steve's evening plans were similar. Made on a whim during a conversation earlier that day. Somehow banter, and a debate about movies based off of novels, became a promise to watch movies tonight. A promise that initially didn't include the long-haired lanky boy that came rushing through the doors just before closing. 
"Shit!! WAIT! Don't close yet!" 
Eddie shouldered his way through the double doors, all clumsy limbs and stumbling over his reeboks with two tapes tucked under his arm. "I gotta….return…these movies…" He huffed out between deep breaths. Hunching forward to catch up to himself. The situation was typical for someone like him. Not that Robin had any issue with Eddie, in fact, they had gotten along quite well after trauma bonding in The Upside Down. Part of accepting him (or anyone really) as a friend included accepting their flaws. Like Eddie's habit of being tardy. To class (before he graduated), to hangouts, and now to returning movies. 
"Hmmm… I don't know, Mr.Munson." Robin teased, mocking the voice of the one teacher they both shared during his last year at Hawkins High. "Your tardiness holds you back more than your lack of effort in my class." She tutted, wagging her finger at him from behind the counter. The plum-polished tip of her finger caught the only light left in the store. The light from the 'employees only' back area. The ones for the main area have already been turned off. 
Those chocolate doe-eyes of his didn’t have the effect on her that they had on other women (and men), but they were impossible to ignore when he pouted like that. Resembling a sad puppy left out in a cardboard box during a thunderstorm. It tugged the heartstrings in an unfair way that even she couldn't manage whenever she attempted to. Although Nancy would say otherwise. To add salt to the wound, Eddie whimpered softly, shuffling over to the counter just low enough to rest his chin on it and look up at her. "Come oonnn, Robin. Wayne asked me to do it earlier, but I forgot, and I don't want him to deal with the late fees." He cooed her name in such a babyish way, it almost made her gag and snort at the same time. "Just this one time? I'll even wash Steve's car." 
"How would washing his car help me?" 
"You ride in his car. Why not ride in style? Hmmm?~" 
The amusing bargain was interrupted by a third party, finally stepping out of the back room once he heard the distant male voice. It wouldn't be the first time he's had to chase a guy out that insisted on barking up the wrong tree with Robin, even after she rejected their advances. Though Robin would scold him afterwards because she 'could handle herself'. Funny how she never scolded Nancy whenever she was the one to do it. Still, Steve stepped out and walked up beside Robin at the counter, happily surprised to see Eddie Munson instead of some creep. "No, no Robin. Hold on. Let's hear the guy out." 
Of course he'd say that. Robin knew it was a losing battle the moment Steve joined the conversation. From the way Eddie turned up the sad tremble in his poked-out bottom lip, he must've known too. Steve was putty in his hands (no matter how much he covered it with snark and sass). "I reeeally need to return these tapes for Wayne." My God, did he- did he just bat his eyelashes?? 
Mission accomplished. 
Like any of the fictional monster bosses he put against his friends during D&D, Steve attempted to put up a fight. Throwing a stern word or two at Eddie, and even threatening to say 'no' just to teach him a lesson. But overall, he fell. Taking the tapes in hand and beginning the process of putting the information into the computer. While Steve's eyes were occupied by the screen Eddie grinned at Robin and stuck out his tongue. Receiving a matching smirk and a middle finger. All normal parts of their friendship. Eddie made a mental note to ask her where she got her plum polish, on the rare occasion that he grew tired of his usual black nails. 
"So, what are you two up to tonight?" It was a given that the two of them weren't going to just part ways after their shift. Where there was one, the other was never usually far behind. It was an unspoken fact. Steve and Robin were joined at the hip. "I got Y/n in the van waiting. We weren't really sure what we wanted to do after this." 
Robin's face twisted as a thought entered her mind. One she wished she could erase from existence. "Oh ew, was that the reason you were late returning these tapes?" 
"What? NO!" Eddie spat out, a bit too defensive. He reigned it in and forced an awkward chuckle. "Eh, it's nothing like that. We were just.. okay we were possibly a little high. We smoked a little and hung out. Time sort of flew." It surprised both you and Eddie how much your friendship resembled Steve and Robin's. In more ways than one. Things were never physical between you two because you simply didn't swing that way. A secret that Eddie was dead set on protecting until you felt comfortable with revealing it yourself. Robin, as of a few months ago had finally come out to your friend group (although still closeted around strangers). It stirred a small hope in you that maybe, just maybe, you might be brave enough to do the same. Just… not so soon. 
Steve finished and tucked Eddie's returned tapes under the counter, clearly not in the mood to put them back on the shelf. It was two minutes to the end of their shift, and there is no way in hell they were about to put in overtime at this godforsaken place. "Me 'n Robin were gonna watch some movies at my place. You guys wanna join?" 
 Thus, you ended up here. Spread out in front of Steve's impressively large television, in his also LARGE living room. The fireplace was crackling softly, basking the room in heat and a comfy ambience. It was homey, in such an ironic way. Steve always described his house as cold and felt the need to constantly have company over, since his family was never around. Robin was practically moved in by now. Sighing once again as she moved to sit by the fireplace. Moving as far away as she could from the heavy panting and moist smacking of Steve and Eddie currently swapping saliva on the couch. It seems a few drinks and a sentimental movie scene was all it took to get the two of them to finally loosen up and explore that tension that always lingered between them. Good for them. You were happy for your best friend, genuinely. Maybe even living vicariously through him. Maybe someday that'll be me. 
Robin didn't share your positive opinion. The taste was bitter on her tongue. One by one all of her friends were finding themselves. Falling in and out of love, and sharing stories about passionate nights and romantic dates. Yet here she was, stuck. Alone. Third-wheeling once again and striking out every time. When would it be her turn? She thought that taking a leap, even if it was small, would reward her with a maybe equally small victory. She took that leap in revealing herself to Nancy (and the gang). Heart in her hands with a silent question in her eyes. Could we try? Steve had finally moved on and even gave Robin his blessing. Jonathan had broken her trust with his lies about college and distancing himself from her. Maybe… just maybe… the closeness that was steadily growing between them meant something more. But it didn't. Nancy bounced back to Jonathan last month, even moved in with him once he got his own place in Hawkins. Shattering Robin's heart into a million pieces. Now every romantic advancement she witnessed from her friends just twisted the knife. 
She was tired. She was lonely. She just wanted to have a simple damn movie night with her best friend. Not this. 
"Movie kinda sucks, huh?" You made your presence known, coming to sit down beside her. A quilt wrapped around your shoulders. If this was late fall, then the winter was going to be harsh this year. Robin was already internally frozen. "I'm surprised Steve picked something like this. Always figured he'd be more of a Top Gun kind of guy." 
"Clearly you haven't seen his account at Family Video." Robin replied, voice rasped and void of its usual humorous tone. "He's rented Dirty Dancing like twelve times and it's only been out for a few months."
"Let me guess-" 
"Patrick Swayze." You both said in unison. Clearly aware of Steve's unspoken bisexuality. He never really said it, but he never really hid it either. Just sort of went with the flow. 
Feeling a surge of confidence, you edged a bit closer to Robin. Just barely touching her with your knee as you sat criss-cross and loosened your grip on the quilt. Letting it slip low enough to expose your shoulders and the shadow of your cleavage. Your distressed Judas Priest crop top left a lot of skin available for viewing pleasure. "The mystery is, does he want to be Patrick Swayze? Or fuck Patrick Swayze?"
"Well clearly he's more into the 'Van Halen' type." Robin gestured toward the couch. Eddie and Steve were still going at it. You expected nothing less from years of pent up mutual pining. It was the bite in Robin's response that gave you pause. Along with the fact that she knew anything about Van Halen. 
It dawned on you that this wasn't her original plan. When Eddie returned to the van earlier tonight after turning in the tapes, he skimmed over the fact that you and him had been invited along to plans that already existed without you two. This night wasn't supposed to end up like this. 
"I'm sorry if me and Eddie kinda crashed your movie night. I didn't expect it to turn into, well- this." 
Robin shrugged, keeping her eyes on the dancing flames. "It's fine. I guess I'm just tired of being a third wheel." 
"Wellll… That's why I'm here. I guess. The fourth wheel to even things out." You offered, borrowing every scrap of confidence you could muster. This was your one chance, and Hawkins be damned, you would sooner let The Upside Down swallow you whole than screw this up this opportunity. 
The hint flew over Robin's head. Entirely too consumed with forcing herself to accept that she'll be single forever. Telling herself that she had to be the only lesbian in the entirety of Hawkins, and if there were any others they were too old or wouldn't want her. She thought your offer purely meant a chance at friendship and that was probably the last thing she wanted right now. But you were sweet and so damn cute, so she couldn't continue being cold towards you. Instead she turned her gaze on you and gave you a sad but thankful smile. "Thanks, but it's not really the same thing."
"I… I could make out with you too. If that would help." 
There it was. Out in the open. For the first time, spoken to another person (besides Eddie). The realization crashed Robin's system and fried her brain. She needed a reboot. She needed to hear it again, to be sure she heard correctly. That would be too much to ask. Saying it at all was risky enough for you, and she knew that. She felt that. Felt the same rhythmic pounding in her chest. A pounding that seemed to happen every time you thought about her. It all made sense. How defensive Eddie got whenever someone insinuated that your friendship was more than what it seemed. 
"Yeah." The fire and the quilt didn't generate nearly as much warmth as Robin's voice did. Hushed and bordering on flirtatious. "I think that could help a lot."
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❦ A/N: Robin is such a babe ♡ That's all. 🤣💞 Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated.
Masterlist, Ao3 ☆
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lookedlikethebins · 6 months
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Could you tell us about all the wips you have planned cus I can't keep track anymore 👀
omg i'm so so sorry i really do talk about a bunch don't i? i've always got a bunch of fics going at once so no matter what i feel like writing i have something i can jump into... which must make keeping track a nightmare. so yes! let me recap for you:
in no particular order we have:
shirt-sharing fic: this one keeps changing (and taking longer to write than i wanted lol) but essentially the bare bones idea is matty borrows a shirt from george before a interview with the whole band and it Doesn't Go Unnoticed.
new parents fic: a brief glimpse/collection of glimpses into the life & times of new parents george and matty!
the "if i believe you" fic: based on a line in a poem: "God did a very good job with you." it's in the country recording studio/abiior-era and matty just has a lot of thoughts about how God makes good things-- of course He does-- but he, himself, is not one of those things. but george is. george is divine, matty just is. (very prose/internal monologue heavy and i'm loving writing it tbh.)
non-famous!matty fic: george, ross, and adam are still (a version of) the 1975. waughy has this really nice officemate at the uni he's teaching at that's a TA/PhD candidate for the lit dept. george has to pick waughy up for rehearsal one day and the rest is history... we just get to see matty being The Biggest Fan of the 1975 and also, entirely by coincidence, being bespectacled and having hot takes on books (that i'm reading...)
the gatty ft. raughy fic: matty is apparently the last person to know that two of his closest friends/bandmates are dating and he's confused that 1. he missed it completely 2. everyone else (including his own husband) seemed to know but him and 3. they let him just Be That Oblivious for years. he starts paying closer attention and enjoys seeing his friends happy (with the correct context now)
camera roll collection: basically i found a bunch of candids (taken by the band/jordan) of matty and/or george and said, context be damned, i'm using this as a photo prompt like i'm in middle school and this is a timed essay. first picture is this 2019 pic of matty at the airport.
the hours of the left behind part ii: this fic was originally intended to be a standalone of the hours right after george drops matty off to fly to barbados. but now part ii is when george picks him up and tries to help matty readjust to being home. but also matty begins to sees how george was while he was away (having put on a brave smile every time matty called).
(be my) god and country ch 3/epilogue: not sure how i want to expand this universe bc i really love the foundations that fic has for timelines/ideas on certain aspects of their relationship that i want to keep returning to and building on (and not rewriting again and again lol) BUT i have ideas for a honeymoon maybe, a wintering-type fic where they go home for christmas, they talk about having kids... it's a whole world of possibilities!! open to suggestions...
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blackhairedjjun · 10 months
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flowers of every color | writer's behind the scenes!
some stuff about my writing process for the fic! be warned that if you haven't caught up yet, there are spoilers
tagging people who liked and/or replied my interest check post: @agustdiv1ne @mazeinthemoon @txtistheloml @kyaneosprincess @teletubbiesssss @banggyu0308
these are pretty long so i'm putting them behind a read-more hehe
story planning:
while we've gotten plenty of yeonjun in prince outfits over the years, the main inspiration for this fic is yeonjun's opening outfit in act: sweet mirage! i saw that and was like "oh man he would be SO DASHING as a prince 😍" and just went from there
if you've been here from the start, you might know that i didn't originally plan make a series! i just word-vomited the first chapter (well, what became the first chapter) directly into tumblr's post editor because the thought of prince!yeonjun wouldn't leave me alone, especially after seeing a few other prince/commoner and prince/servant fics floating around lol. chapter 1 is also the only chapter made using tumblr's legacy editor rather than their new one (which is also why the cover pics are one big edited photo and not 3 separate photos, i couldn't figure out how to get 3 photos to line up in the legacy editor).
i honestly did not expect people to read chapter 1 but they did!! and they liked the idea!! plus even after writing chapter 1 i STILL couldn't get the idea out of my head so i decided to write it as a full story. i've written plenty of oneshots before under my (non-kpop) ao3 account, but this is my first multichapter series! so i opened google docs and made a quick outline of the story's main events.
the original outline for foec had 6 chapters + 2 endings, but as i wrote the story, i realized that more detail and scenes were needed than what i initially outlined! chapters 3 and 4 (ball preparations + the ball / gazebo dance scene) were supposed to be one chapter. chapters 5 and 6 (y/n hanging out with the chois + getting caught + punishment + intro of arranged marriage) were also supposed to be one chapter. chapters 7-9 (end of friendship, reconciling with soogyu, y/n & beomgyu talk) were also supposed to be one chapter!
i actually started writing the bad ending first before the good ending -- my reasoning was that if i were the reader, i would want to save the good ending for last so that i could end the series on a positive note. i was very surprised when people voted for the good ending first in the poll LMAO also as far as i'm concerned, both endings are canon in a "branching timeline" kind of way. they are both the real ending! i do have a soft spot for the good ending but also i love angst too much to not write a bad ending haha.
honestly most of the story beats from my original outline made it into the final fic! the biggest change has to do with queen hwayoung's and princess ajin's roles in the story (more on that below).
character notes:
when i was first brainstorming i really wanted to include both taehyun and hueningkai in the story as well, but i struggle with writing ensemble casts and choi line + y/n (+ the supporting characters in the castle) were already enough for me to handle. soobin and beomgyu were the easiest for me to incorporate into the story since they have the same last name and i could go "oh in this universe they're part of the same royal house hence the same last name" HAHA. i do imagine that the house of choi princes are also friends with tyunning (kai does get alluded to in chapter 9), but they're off doing their own adventures.
some of little moments in the fic were inspired by actual things txt have done in variety shows! yeonjun, y/n, soobin, and beomgyu playing cards in chapter 5 is based off to do ep. 53 where they also play cards. soogyu playing badminton in chapter 8 is inspired by gbgb era idol human theater where they played a little badminton by the pool. and there are a lot more small character quirks that are inspired by gifs or fancams i've seen of them haha.
queen hwayoung and princess ajin were originally not supposed to be part of the story! my original idea was the have the arranged marriage subplot be heard secondhand by through advisers so that it feels like an invisible force pulling yeonjun away from y/n. but i needed to make the threat of the arranged marriage stronger and ended up writing the scene with queen hwayoung in it for chapter 6.
princess ajin especially was a late addition -- originally she was never supposed to appear at all, never visiting the castle and only speaking through her mom / royal advisors, so there was that threat of yeonjun being married off to someone he's never even met. but after looking through the feedback of chapter 6 i realized that i kinda-sorta accidentally made setup for her oops. people were wondering what she'd be like, and it would feel too anticlimactic to never have her appear in the story, so i wrote her in. which i don't regret because i did enjoy writing her big scene in chapter 10!
speaking of which: a friend of mine asked what happens to princess ajin, and honestly i wanted to give her proper closure too! but i couldn't find a way to fit it into the story in a way that felt natural. if you ask me though, she gains some level of political independence from her mom (represented by her visiting the castle in the good ending). she still marries for political reasons, to a prince or nobleman who is also in it for the politics, and at first they treat their marriage as a business partnership. eventually they grow close and form a devoted "i'd do anything for you" bond -- not necessarily romantic in nature, but caring in its own way. (i'm describing a queerplatonic relationship basically)
tbh i don't have the energy to write another multichapter right now, but i would love to see spinoff fics for soobin and beomgyu or even taehyun and kai as princes in their own kingdoms! so if you're reading this and you want to do it, you have my blessing <3
flower notes:
while some chapter titles were planned around a specific flower representing the events & progression of the story, others were not (because of the chapter splits i talked about earlier) and i just chose whatever flower was in it lol. the planned chapter title flowers are: yellow roses (ch2), pink roses (ch4), sunflowers (ch5), striped carnations (ch7) , purple hyacinths (ch9), red roses (ch10), daffodils (GE), and white lilies (BE). the unplanned title flowers are: irises (ch1), lilies of the valley (ch3), red and purple zinnias (ch6), sweet peas (ch8).
i mostly used this website as a reference for the language of flowers, BUT i also double check with one or two other websites to make sure i'm getting an established flower meaning and not something made up! when i started fic planning i made a list of flowers with meanings that fit the main story beats and character progressions, then picked the ones with the most established meanings (i.e. supported by multiple "language of flowers" websites) and/or the ones that were appropriate for the growing season.
even though i wrote a disclaimer not to pay attention to botanical accuracy re: seasonal flowering times, i originally envisioned the fic to take place over the spring. then when it got longer, i imagined it taking place over spring and summer, so i tried (keyword: tried) to choose seasonally appropriate flowers or flowers that bloom year-round. this is hard for me because i live in a tropical country. i have never seen a lot of these flowers in person because they don't grow in the climate here, and i have no idea what a four-season year feels like. so i decided not to put time-of-year markers in the fic and leave the season ambiguous, and added that disclaimer about the flowers' accuracy.
an example of this: chapter 9 is named after purple hyacinths. i first decided on this back when the story was only supposed to take place during the spring, since hyacinths are a spring flower. i considered naming it after hydrangeas because they mean something like "thank you for understanding" (i.e. y/n going "thank you for understanding what a hard position i'm in" to yeonjun), and also because they're one of my favorite flowers. but i wasn't sure about their seasonal appropriateness since some sources said that they bloom during early summer so i changed it to hyacinths. BUT THEN the fic got long and i started imagining that the later chapters take place in the summer SO the hyacinths ended up being seasonally inappropriate after all! and hydrangeas would have been more appropriate! especially since txt literally has a song called hydrangea love out aarghhh noooo but anyway it is what it is
other flowers that didn't make the cut + their meanings: sweet william (gallantry), alstroemeria (friendship or devotion), freesia (friendship, thoughtfulness), white tulips (forgiveness, consideration, respect), thyme (courage, strength)
other notes:
the key lime pie in chapter 6 is based on a real pie that i ate at my friend's house when i visited her there and i thought it was the most delicious thing i have ever eaten. in the original draft it was a lemon tart!
i wanted to keep this series strictly sfw, but i did consider making both the good and bad endings have suggestive, fade-to-black scenes. for the good ending, the suggestive part would have involved y/n in yeonjun's room the night after their speech / before waking up together. for the bad ending, it would have happened when yeonjun visits y/n's quarters. i didn't write them bc i... am not good with anything suggestive or nsfw klsadjfklasjd
I COMPLETELY FORGOT BUT Y/N'S FATHER WAS ALSO IN THE AUDIENCE FOR THEIR SPEECH IN THE GOOD ENDING... i have no excuse for not writing him in other than I Forgot. i am so sorry but please imagine he was there
--
that's all i can think of for now! if you have other questions about foec or my writing process please please feel free to reply to this post or send an ask <3
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WIP Wednesday
Thank you for the tags, @martsonmars, @artsyunderstudy, @cutestkilla, @bookish-bogwitch, @sailorblossoms, and @hushed-chorus!!!
Once more, I bring shitpost energy to WIP Wednesday! I’ve been having Way Too Much Fun playing with Canva lately, so I mocked up some clothes from my ongoing WIP, Jelly Babies. Behold the shirt that Gregory stole from Simon: 
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Hello tags, more clothes, stories about clothes, and a bonus pic of The Artist as a Victorian Baby (XD) under the cut!
And here is Sophie's sweatshirt, a Christmas present from Tyr:
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I’m honestly furious that Canva doesn’t give me the option to make this entire sweatshirt tie-dye. COWARDS. The text is based on Lizzo’s Tiny Desk. 
Here is the shirt that Tyr is wearing at dinner:
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This is a real shirt, and a shout out to my spouse's friend Tim, who will never read this or my fic. Hi Tim!!!! The first time I met Tim, he went on a long, intense monologue about Desert Bus (which New York Times called The Very Worst Video Game Ever Created) and the very cool charity event Desert Bus for Hope. Tim actually did design some art for DBfH, which is insanely awesome.
He's a very nice dude and the most wonderful DM; he did a one-off Christmas campaign for us a few years ago where he let me be Genji, a fuckboi YT influencer geisha/bard whose winter outfit was a red knitted thong, a cropped jacket, and no shirt (my nips were always tastefully covered).
I will always remember how, on the afternoon of his wedding, Tim said, "I feel like I'm DM'ing right now. I've set the context, gathered the players, and I'm just here to see this unfold."
Sadly, I don’t have a graphic yet of the God’s Gym shirt:
Gregory borrowed some of Simon’s clothes to sleep in, so he’s in old basketball shorts and a very soft, faded t-shirt that says “GOD’S GYM” and has a picture of Jacob wrestling with an angel. It’s extremely gay. 
This is A REAL SHIRT, owned by a professor of one of my high school English teachers. I’ve never seen the shirt with my own human eyes; it exists in the sacred homoerotic theatre of my mind. At some point, I think I need to actually draw it / design it so I can wear it on my bod.
And lastly, as a bonus, here is a (very blurry, low-res picture of a) picture of The Artist as a Victorian Baby that inspired the photo of Baby!Swithin.
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“He just,” Gregory chokes, “he somehow looks SO BORED and yet SO SERIOUS?? He’s just a baby and yet his eyes look a HUNDRED YEARS OLD?? Why does this photo look like it was taken in the Victorian era? How is he so adorable?” 
I wish I could share the entire photo, because part of what makes it hilarious is that the rest of my family looks perfectly normal and happy and very 90s. And then. There’s me. The Grim Spectre. But like, a baby.
TRUE STORY: My best friend did lose her tiny mind over this photo, and she did save it as her lock screen. Every once in a while, she’d catch people doing a double take at her phone. She’s white, and I’m sure people assumed she had adopted an Asian baby. Whenever anyone asked, she would just say, nonchalantly, “Oh yeah, that’s my best friend,” and refuse to explain any further.
As always, pressure-free hello tags! @captain-aralias, @excalisbury, @facewithoutheart, @fatalfangirl, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @johnwgrey, @larkral, @moodandmist, @nightimedreamersworld, @raenestee, @thewholelemon,  @whogaveyoupermission, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe  
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The Hating Game Part 3 + Epilogue
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Pictures 1, 3, and 4 are from interest, and picture 2 is from @parkjammys
Pairings -Joaquín Torres x Aviator!Reader (Enemies To Lovers)
Premise – The infamous rivalry between you and Joaquin Torres is well known on the base. He hates you and you hate him. After unlikely circumstances, you realize hating someone is disturbingly similar to falling in love with them
Warnings: Major Spoilers for The Hating Game Novel. (btw read the book it is too good <3) Strong language, suggestive language.
A/N - Guess who went to campus for the first time after two years of university!?!?!!?? God, I am so excited about what is going to happen! I met all my online friends today at campus and everyone was so happy and excited! I am literally uploading this pic directly copy pasting the word doc without editing from my dorm room I AM SO SORRY FOR ANY GRAMMATICAL MISTAKES I will be editing them tomorrow and will surely update it. Thank you to everyone for sticking till the end I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!
Note - Credits to Sally Throne for the original story of The Hating Game that inspired this fic. Some scenes will be exclusively from the novel, others I will spin my way. I do not own anything, this is my interpretation of the novel with MCU characters.
My Main Masterlist || Send your requests here!
Series Masterlist || Part 1 || Part 2
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Next Day
The morning light kisses your skin as you slowly open your eyes. An irritatingly loud sound rang in the background. You turn and switch off your alarm and stretch on the bed, thinking about last night.
He kissed you.
With tongue and everything.
You had a full-blown make-out session with Joaquin Torres.
On your bed.
It was not a dream.
And you liked it.
“ughhhh” you smash your head in the pillows thinking there was more to this. There has to be! A man like him does not switch from loathing you since day one to kissing you out of nowhere. You are going to confront him. You will go up to him and talk about what happened.
God, this is going to be so awkward!
---/---/---
You arrive at the base, looking through your e-mails and calendar to see if you have anything significant coming up.
You felt better, and you ate the leftover soup that still tasted as delicious as it was last night after heating it in the microwave. You remind yourself to bully Joaquin into making you the soup again.
   “Morning Y/L/N.” one of your colleagues says as she passes you in the hallway.
   "Good morning!" you call out, she waves and you smile.
You stop walking, standing still for just a second.
And when you turn, you see him coming from the other end of the hallway. He was in his regular green Camouflage Pattern uniform, and his buzzcut hair was intact. And this was the first time you realized how good he looked! From your perspective, everything was happening in slow motion.
   “Hey…” you raise your hand but he glances at you as he nears, giving you a tight-lipped smile, looks ahead and continues on his way.
You continue to walk then, ignoring the memories of your past flashing in front of your eyes.
   “Hi!” you smile at him. The guy in front of you in brown khakis, your new colleague turned to you, holding a mug of beer. He had a handsome face.
You extend your hand and say, “I’m Y/N. New to the base." He looks at you, and then at your hand, and then back at you with a normal expression.
   “Uh, excuse me.” He says and walks away.
This continued during the field practice, and in your shared office. He just ignored you out of the blue. No sliding to your desk, no snarky comments, not even a stupid morse code message. He stayed quiet for the whole day, working on his paperwork and looking at his computer screen.
You met him as you walked towards the common room for your study sessions. He stops in front of you, about 5 feet away from you. You look at him, waiting for what he has to say and he says, “I think we should stop the study sessions for a while. I have some work to do with Sam and Bucky. I won’t be able to make it for some days.”
And despite your heart calling out to him, screaming at you to reason with him, you say, “Okay. It’s fine” you try to smile, and leave.
Having just listened to his brain, his gaze now wanders to your disappearing silhouette in the hallway, wondering if what he just did was the right thing to do?
---/---/---
Four days later
   “Good luck.”
His voice pierces through the deafening silence of the common room and you raise your head from the textbook and look at him. Joaquin was standing in front of you clutching a clipboard. 
You were sitting in the common room looking through the notes you and Joaquin made in the last month. It was a mock test that would predict your marks for the finals. You and everyone enrolled in your course had the option to take the test from the base because it lasted 3 hours and was online.
You try your best not to fiddle with your hands as you look at him, but you were sure he had caught it by now. The ache in your chest grows as you realize his feet were inching towards the exit.
---/---/---
   “Thanks. You too.” You nod.
   “Okay.” He says and immediately turns towards the exit.
   Joaquin! You jump from your seat, unable to keep it in any longer. He stops in his tracks. “Will you please talk to me? How long are we going to pretend that-“
   “You should focus on the test right now,” he cuts off your sentence, without turning back, “we will talk later.” He walks away without a glance towards you, or he would have seen the tears threatening to break out from your eyes, the ache in your chest just growing in size.
One Month Later
After being ignored and treated as if you don't exist by someone who wouldn't let go of a single chance to banter with you and increase your vocabulary of creative words you knew your mother would faint at, you would think you finally got peace. These are the kinds of days you would pray for.
But it was the exact opposite, and you had enough.
You storm out of your office. Anyone who sees you from a distance moves out of the way because they know someone is getting the worst of you.
The entire base would be foolish to not know who it was.
Joaquin had an obscene hanger for himself at the edge of the base. God knows how many times he had to kiss Captain Bexley's arse to get him to give him that space, he now uses as a personal space for "Avengers stuff" he had once told you, "That you should stay 400 meters away from"
The large doors were wide open. There was an old WW2 jet half-covered with a tarp sitting in the middle of the large space. And in a corner, Joaquin was at his workstation wearing headphones.
   “What the fuck is wrong with you!!" You yell behind him, throwing a bundle of papers at him that you picked up from his table.
He turns away from his workstation which was a mess of monitors hanging on the wall running different algorithms. He looks at you with an unamused expression, as if he didn’t want you to be here. He takes off his headphones and steps towards you. "I was in the middle of an important discussion with Sam. How about a little respect?"
He takes the paper from you and reads it and smirks, "This might be the noblest thing the man has ever done."
You puff out in anger, stepping to him and shoving the paper in your hand on his face, "You're leaving the Air Force to be a full-time avenger?"
   "Yes," he deadpans.
   "I found out by this stupid invitation planned by Captain Bexley on my desk, about your farewell party."
He takes a deep breath and turns to leave. “It’s not as easy as you think it is. Go away.” You didn’t back down, raising your voice instead, "Why did you help me, Torres?"
   "You kissed me." You cut him off, and his face falls. He looks you right in the eyes and says, "No Y/N, you kissed me."
   "And you kissed me back"
   "It was in the heat of the moment," he says.
   "Fuck off Joaquin! Seriously! How long will you gaslight yourself into believing that???" you throw up your hands.
   "I don't believe anything. I'm just stating facts."
   "Why did you help me?"
   "Because you looked 2 seconds away from throwing up your insides from a stomach bug." He states, now taking a step toward you.
You could feel your heartbeat rising, your breath falling short. And he didn’t look any better. You could see Joaquin’s chest rising and falling as his breathing increased. Anyways, you continued, you were done brainstorming what he meant and needed to get to the bottom of this situation.
He rubs his face, “I can’t do this right now!” 
   "You agreed to study with me!"
   "I wanted your help, okay? I agreed to do that because I didn’t want to be in your debt, the rookies were nightmares you knew that too"
   "Why did you kiss me?” you ask again
   “You kissed me!”
   “Yes! And you did the second time!”
“Why did you kiss me and ignore me like hell for a whole week? Why did you do it if you had to go out afterward with some random girl called Stacy, Suzie whatever her name is?" your voice breaks. “You... you called me short! I tried so hard to be your friend but you made me hate you! You straight up ignored me when I first met you!" 
You didn’t even care at this point that you were screaming at him. “You act as if you hate me. Then you ask for my help after two years of insufferable behavior. You came to me!”
And he screamed back.
   “Because I’m in love with you! Because I fell for you harder than the Gs’ on my plane Y/N! I forgot to breathe as soon as I saw you for the first time!"
   "I had a plan, okay? Three rules I was supposed to follow no matter what. Join the air force, focus on my career, and not fall in love. Because I have seen what love can do to those who love unconditionally.” He huffs out, eyes brimming with tears, “I saw my ma lose herself when my dad passed away, she... she became someone I couldn't recognize anymore. She loved him so much, she still wears her wedding ring after 12 years."
It feels like you can't breathe, you can't think, and your heart just beats fast.
Joaquin gulps, looking you in the eyes, his expression softening. You try to breathe and instead, a sob escapes your lips.
   "And then I saw you." He smiles, a stray tear falling from his eyes.
   "You were everything I had sworn not to encounter. And if I ever did come across, I would run away. But your comebacks, your eyes, your laugh, you, you’re just..." he huffs out a laugh. "I tried so hard to hate you. You challenged me like no one ever did! You didn't think twice before flying your plane through a bombarded airstrip just to save 4 strangers you never met! Against Captain Bexley! You could have been stripped off of everything you’ve achieved in your life and gotten kicked out of the Air Force, but you still did it."
Your vision blurred as you blinked, trying to look at him through your tears.
   “You were the dare people wish they never got into a game, which turns out to be the best thing that ever happened to them. And that scared me. I was terrified of what you would think of me if you find out. So, I never told you. It was my desire to let you know sooner, but I saw that you took an instant dislike to me after we first met, and I tried telling you to ask you out after, but I understood you wouldn't want that kind of relationship with me. I learned how to love you silently, for I know you will never love me back after how I have been with you. So, I never did.”
He takes a deep breath after saying that. And you could feel by the words that you just heard that he has been wanting to say that for a long time. You sniffled as he took a step towards you, gently wiping away your tears with his thumb.
For someone screaming out everything in her heart at him, you had no words coming out of your mouth at this moment. You wanted to let him know he was a good person, and somewhere behind this tough persona, he had a soft side that you were kind of falling for. And that you don't hate him, not anymore.
But you couldn’t say that.
   "I'm sorry. I really am." He says and walks away, leaving you alone in the hanger.
---/---/—
Epilogue: The farewell party
Evening on the beaches surrounding the small naval town was a sight. The ocean turned a lovely shade of red and orange, reflecting the sky above, the horizon looking like it would never end. The sound of waves hitting the sand, soft and calm like a lullaby. A yacht or two in the distance, and children playing nearby, unaware of the scary reality waiting for them as they grow older. For them, the present was everything.
Such was the sight that you were witnessing as you stood on the wooden deck of the bar. Holding a bottle of beer, resting it on the railing, and marveling at the beauty of the natural world.
You had the perfect excuse not to attend, hell you earned some wide eyes and double takes as you entered the bar. You could not withstand Captain Bexley's fake smiles the whole evening at the farewell party for Joaquin. Everyone knew that, but they wanted to have a good time with their colleague before he set out to save the world. You bailed out, almost.
But then you saw him.
He was wearing the same outfit he did on your night out, and he looked happy, smiling and taking pictures with everyone. He even invited the junior airmen from the team you both trained together, those who were still stationed nearby. You glanced behind you and looked through the glass doors to see him standing with Captain Bexley. He slapped his hand on Joaquin’s shoulder with pride. Maybe for a second, this bastard managed to melt the old man’s heart.
You turn back to the sunset sky, now showing some soft signs of blue in between the reds.
    “Thought I’d find you here.” His voice traveled through the sound of the ocean. He stands next to you, resting his hands on the smooth wooden railing. Instead of looking at him, you ask him, "What's up with you and your obsession with green? There are so many other colors to choose from.”
You laugh for a second, remembering a similar conversation you had with your father while watching old re-runs of Power Rangers.
He laughed in response, “It reminds me of Tommy Oliver.” (Tommy Oliver is a fictional character and the protagonist of the television franchise Power Rangers. He is best known for being the original Green Ranger and the first evil Ranger who fought and nearly defeated the original Power Rangers. Played by Jason David Frank)
   “Is he your man crush or something?”
   “Oh, yes. He is everybody’s man crush.”
You take a deep breath, realizing what you were about to tell him was something you never told anyone else, a past you ran from as soon as you turned 20, “Well, I was kind of a nerd growing up and ended up not having a prom date in senior year. Who would hang out with the class topper with grandma glasses, right? So, he dressed up in his wedding tux and escorted me to the party.” You take a deep breath recalling the memory. “I got made fun of for a while but, that was the sweetest thing someone ever did for me. He had a blast and by the end of the night he was the star of the show dancing to Whitney Houston.” You laughed.
   “Pops, I mean, my dad said the same thing once.”
   “Pops?” he laughed.
   “Yes, Torres I still call my dad pops because he is adorable.”
   “Really? How?”
   “My dad was a marine. He once returned after a year from Afghanistan. I was ten, maybe eleven. He had missed my basketball games and my birthday, and I was pissed. I didn’t talk to him for the whole day when he came back. So, the next day he took me to the arcade and we spent the whole day together. He won so much stuff and we only came home when he ran out of coins. That's one of my favorite memories.” He clears his throat and looks at his hands. “He passed away in the line of duty a month later.”
   “That’s pretty sweet." He laughed with you.
   "Hmm" you look down at your drink, thinking about how he won’t be here after today, who would you talk with, banter even? And then he starts talking.
You turn to him, standing straight as he hunched over the railing. You could see how difficult it was for him to say this.
   “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-” you begin to apologize but he cuts you off, “No, no it's fine. I miss him a lot but, yeah, it’s fine.”
You feel something shift between you. He turns his whole body towards you. He rubs the back of his neck, but straightens up, looks you in the eyes, and begins, “I have been playing a one-sided game with you for a long time. The Hating Game. I would wake up every day and reach the base, trying to find one reason to hate you.”
Your eyebrows shot up immediately, and you were ready to banter with him, but he kept talking, "I would think that today is the day I will stop thinking about you, but for some absurd reason, I did that for two years even though I lost every day. I could not bring myself to hate you. One look from you would make my day. I would snark a comment and you would reply back with a better statement. It drove me crazy.”
He takes a small step towards you, “After we kissed, I thought that maybe, finally, I could ask you out. Take you to dinner, open the doors to you, kiss your hand”, he smiles, “and call you shortcake because I could watch you all day pretending you don’t like it. And also because it would be a dead giveaway that I was hopelessly in love with you.”
You take a deep breath and take a step towards him, your hands itching to caress his face.
   “Will you play a different game with me? The Starting Over game. Start over from whatever has happened so far and get to know each other better. And if you like me, well, let's just say I have made some plans about that.”
You laughed with joy flowing through your veins. You really thought you were going to lose him and he comes up with this crazy idea, which can actually work.
“Hi, Joaquin. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.” and instead of listening to the voice in your head teasing you about leaving him stranded like he did last time, you shake his hand.
   “You are heading to New York, how-”
   "How will we do this? I don’t know. But I want to give this a chance. I would like to take this risk. I don’t know what the future holds but I want this. With you.”
   “Okay.” you smile.
   “Okay? Okay.” He clears his throat and straightens his jacket.
   “Hi. I’m Joaquin Torres. Nice to meet you.” He extends his hand toward you with a warm smile.
---/---/---
A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Any and all requests, headcanons, and drabble requests about this AU is mostly welcome. Love y'all, Take Care!
Sequel Headcannon || Series Masterlist
Requests are open! Feel free to request anything.
---/---/---
Tag List:
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hiccanna-tidbits · 2 years
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HICCANNA MONTH WEEK 3, DAY 5 - SCI-FI AU BLADE RUNNER
Next up for Hiccanna Month: Another fic idea that’s been bouncing around in my head like a Windows screensaver since 2015! GOD, I remember watching Blade Runner for the first time alone in my dorm room my freshman year, and just getting OBSESSED--and, of course, the first thing my brain does is start building an overly-detailed Hiccanna/RotBTFD AU longfic that I’ll never have time to write XD Idk, maybe someday???
WELL ANYWAYS. Figured y’all deserved to see the base concept that I get super obsessed with every now and again, even if I never do anything with it XD I’ve read the book the movie’s based off of, too, so some concepts from the book found their way in here as well. I also rewatched the movie for this, and lemme tell you, that shit holds up--like every other cyberpunk dystopia deadass wishes they could be Blade Runner (1982). How they did all those flying cars and futuristic buildings and shit with practical effects and mini-sets is beyond me.
Fic summary under the cut! As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request!
***
Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III was one of the best Blade Runners in Los Angeles back in the day. Not like he had much choice in his career; he comes from a long line of proud android hunters--strong, ruthless men who will do anything necessary to protect humanity from its own rogue AI creations. Hiccup trained to “retire” replicants since childhood--and with excellent tracking skills, sharp intellect, and ruthless pragmatism, he was very good at his job.
Natural talent or not, blade running wasn’t a job that Hiccup could stomach forever. Eventually the brutality took a toll--it became more and more of a weight to bear, killing beings who looked just a little too human. Hiccup decides to retire early (much to the chagrin of his late father, he’s sure), turning in his pistols and retreating to his high-rise apartment. The perks of a such a dangerous and taxing job were that it didn’t pay half bad, and Hiccup has plenty to support himself for a while. And that’s all that’s really needed--no wife, no girlfriend, no roommates, only one real friend.
Despite his success in his career, Hiccup is a lonely man. He’s never particularly connected with his coworkers, not finding much joy or satisfaction in retiring replicants. The women he tries his luck often as not find him too awkward or sulky or sarcastic--hardly the charming man with a vibrant life that many seek.
Hiccup’s best and only friend is an electric black cat, found in an alleyway after work one day and lured into his building with canned tuna and freeze-dried salmon. He doesn’t know the precise story behind the abandoned cat, but what he’s able to semi-confidently piece together (he is a detective, after all) is that the artificial cat was an attempted scam--pawned off as real, as so many high-quality, convincing electric animals are. Real animals are a rarity, most having died off as the world became choked with trash and pollution that apparently only the human animal could consistently stomach.
The cat could certainly pass as real--at first glance, anyways. In fact, Hiccup is initially shocked, wondering how he stumbled on a real flesh-and-blood feline in a city where practically everything else is artificial. When he gives the loud-meowing cat some dinner, though, he notices the teeth seem to slide in and out of the creature’s jaw as he eats in a way no organic cat’s would. Hiccup suspects this is what gave him away as a fake to whoever adopted him--and whoever must have thrown him out in the street.
Nevertheless, Hiccup knows what it is to be rejected. To be ostracized and excluded because you’re not what people want you to be. And someone needs to fix “Toothless”’s broken tail--which, upon closer inspection, is sparking every so often, too. Certainly a fire hazard if left to wander about the city.
Hiccup’s retirement is going rather well when things get upended. Toothless is good company, Hiccup can afford the nicest games and streaming services money can buy, and he even has time to indulge in a hobby he was always too busy for--tinkering with and fixing broken machinery.
Then one day, over his regular lunch of shrimp-and-beef ramen, his old boss shows up and says he’s needed for one last job.
Hiccup won’t hear of it. He’s done with killing and hurting and destroying things, no matter how much society would have him think it’s not “real” life. It turns out, however, that Hiccup’s boss isn’t letting go of his best Blade Runner so easily.
“Your cat,” he says. “Organic or electric?”
“Electric.”
Hiccup sees no reason to lie. If he claimed Toothless was organic and word got out, everyone and their mother would be trying to steal him.
“So his software is hooked into the Cloud, just like every other electric animal in the city. Their brains were built to share a network.”
Hiccup freezes.
“What I’m saying, Haddock, is that certain...city officials have access to the animal neurological networks in the Cloud. Sure would be a shame if Toothless’ got damaged...or shut down completely.”
And so Hiccup is on the case. There are four replicants total who must be retired, all rogues who got loose on a ship bound for Earth, killed all the human passengers, and hijacked the controls.
“Jack Frost,” the supposed leader, is tough-as-nails combat model built to withstand subzero temperatures and be far more flexible and agile than any human could hope to be. He’s wily and charismatic, as likely to try manipulating or sweet-talking you as shooting you.
“Merida,” another combat model, is the brawn of the group. Aggressive and ruthless, she’s not the sort to back out of a fight until her opponent is beyond dead.
“Rapunzel” has appropriately long blonde hair to match the fairy tale moniker, though she usually keeps it braided back and out of the way. She’s a standard pleasure bot, not an uncommon sight at exoplanet military outposts, but rumor has it she is not to be underestimated, and she’s not as soft as she looks.
“Anna” is another combat bot, although she’s not noted as being brutal like Merida or cunning like Jack. She is, according to her profile under her spinning head on the hologram screen, fairly average in every way.
Nonetheless, Hiccup can’t take his eyes off her. There’s an intriguing--almost playful--glint in her holographic eyes that draws him in.
He manages to track Anna down to a seedy part of town, finding out that she’s been forced to work as an “exotic dancer” of sorts to lay low while still paying the bills. He meets her backstage, claiming he needs to run a “safety inspection” on the premises, but it only takes a short conversation for Anna to see right through his cover. She attacks with superhuman strength, throwing him hard against a wall and making a run for it while the wind is knocked out of him.
Hiccup gives chase through grungy, neon-lit streets, nearly losing her among the raincoats and umbrellas of thick crowds a number of times. He finally corners her near a backalley, out-of-the-way clothing store, in a place where there are no cars or people or power boxes to hide behind. She dives through a display window, the effort of breaking glass slowing her down, and at last Hiccup has his chance.
Something stops him from pulling the trigger.
She turns and looks at him the second before he shoots, and her eyes are filled with blazing, palpable fear. The fear of a clearly sentient creature. Not so different from the fear Hiccup saw in Toothless’ eyes when he first met him, back when Hiccup was just another in a vast world of humans that only wanted to hurt him.
He lowers his gun, and watches as Anna scrambles into the darkness of the closed shop and out of sight. He starts home, feeling sick.
He knows he’ll have to kill her eventually...but not tonight. Not tonight.
He’s almost to his car when a cold, steely grip closes around his arm, yanking him into an alleyway. In the bright neon glow from the adjacent street, he recognizes the round face and tied-back head full of red curls immediately--Merida, the most vicious of the rogue replicants. She saw him shooting at Anna, her comrade and friend, and now he is deeply fucked.
It’s not much of a fight. Within seconds, Merida gains the upper hand--and is, to put it delicately, beating the ever-loving shit out of him. Hiccup makes his peace with the gods, recognizing that tragically, this is indeed an occupational hazard of being a Blade Runner.
She’s just about to land the killing blow when someone intervenes.
Shaken and battered, Hiccup gets to his feet. He leans against a wall, watching a blur of red and orange hair as he gets his breath back.
His rescuer, he realizes, is Anna.
Merida is hard to subdue, blinded by rage and lashing out wildly in her efforts to get back to Hiccup. Anna pleads for her to stop, trying to explain that Hiccup let her go--that he’s not worth killing if he could help them.
Hiccup realizes with a start that she must really believe that. Why else would she save his life?
Finally, the realization that Anna is alive and well--and not bleeding out from a gunshot wound outside some dingy shop--seems to sink in for Merida. She calms down and takes a step back, eyeing Hiccup with distaste.
“He’d better be useful,” she hisses. “Imagine of he really had killed yeh, huh? That’s jest what his lot do.”
She spits on Hiccup before stalking off.
After Merida leaves, Anna admits she followed Hiccup, wanting to know why a Blade Runner spared her. After a rather tense conversation--including but not limited to Anna painfully shoving Hiccup against a wall and conducting an impromptu interrogation--Hiccup admits the truth: He had to take the job to retire her and her friends because someone he loved would be in danger if he didn’t. Someone mechanical.
With a little more prodding, Hiccup admits that the people he used to work for threatened to deactivate Toothless if he didn’t dispose of the four rogue replicants “terrorizing the city.” Anna muses--half to herself--that she may be able to help. No one better to understand an artificial life form than another artificial life form, after all. And Anna has been to dozens of planets in all different types of spacecrafts and interfaced with hundreds of other AIs--if anyone understands AI coding and tampering, it’s her.
Besides, she saved his life. Him, a bounty hunter who got paid for killing beings like her. That has to count for something.
Before they know it, the two are forming a tentative alliance. Anna offers to take a look at Toothless’ software and try to figure out how to disconnect him from the cloud, thus cutting off any outside access to his neural circuits. In return, Hiccup will give her and her friends protection, ceasing his hunt for them for the time being and keeping their locations a secret from other Blade Runners.
With nowhere else for her to really go, Hiccup reluctantly tells Anna she can stay in the spare room of his apartment--only because she might be the only one who can potentially save Toothless, of course. That’s the only reason it’s worth the dangers. Hiccup supposes it’s just as well--easiest to keep her safe (so she can still be around to decode and free his cat) by keeping her close. Emotions can’t factor into this when replicants have none--not like humans do, anyway. Right?
It turns out Hiccup can’t stay nearly as detached as he hoped. The more Anna tries to figure Toothless out--muttering about his wires and his circuit board and his signals as she tinkers with the squirming feline--the more Hiccup tries to figure Anna out. She’s fascinated by the humans on earth--their food, their culture, their art. Their reverence for the biological and their utter disdain for the artificial. He often finds her asking for bites of his food (despite not needing to eat), or watching cars and ships pass out of his high-rise windows. She begs to tag along when he goes undercover in dingy parts of town, fascinated by the bustle of the crowds and the crammed markets with their shouting vendors and ever-flashing neon signs.
Protecting replicants, however, isn’t without its dangers—as Hiccup well suspected. His employers are becoming suspicious of his skills having grown so “rusty” that he misses every shot and he often just “can’t track the bastards down.” But as he grows closer to Anna and meets the rest of her friends, he realizes everything he’s been taught about replicants couldn’t be more wrong. 
They’re intelligent, and they can be kind, emotional, loving, good. Their brains and souls are just as “real” as any human’s. All they want is what anyone wants—to not be treated as lesser for things they can’t help.
As Hiccup’s bond with Anna grows, she opens up to him about the horrors she’s faced. Bloody battles on distant planets. The death of her “sister” Elsa, a replicant made in the same factory as her who was the first living being she ever met. From the same line of Nexus models as Jack, Elsa was built to withstand frigid subzero temperatures...but it wasn’t enough to protect her from being slaughtered by a hoard of newer, even more cold-tolerant models.
Together with the four replicants he’s supposed to be hunting, Hiccup eventually uncovers a horrifying truth--all replicants are programmed to shut down permanently after 4 years. A self-destruct “failsafe” put in because humans were scared of their creations growing and developing in ways they couldn’t predict. Becoming a little too self-aware, and realizing how sick they are of living as second-class citizens. Before he knows it, Hiccup finds himself on a mission more perilous than ever: Find out how to override the programming sending his new friends toward an early doom, all while dodging the wrath of employers who will no doubt think poorly of him for fraternizing with the enemy, to say the least.
And the fact that he’s falling in love with his bounty isn’t going to make things any easier.
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suntails · 4 years
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bokurodai shenanigans
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hiya!! okay so i have this rhodeytony prompt that i think will make a HILARIOUS fic but i know I wouldn’t be able to write it :( so i thought I’d pass it onto you!!! its basically based on this pic
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and its rhodey freaking out bc he never thought of himself as homophobic but he HATES seeing tony kissing guys so much so he starts distancing himself from tony bc tony shouldn’t have to deal w his bigoted ass until like (idk how sjsksk) rhodey realizes he isnt homophobic he’s in love w tony and then they get together
thats basically the prompt and obviously like i get if you dont fulfill it but if you do im super excited to read it!!
omg wait okay. yeah I can see where this is going. sorry it took a minute, but I couldn't not write this so here you are!
prompt: above
Read Over Thoughts of a Kiss here on ao3
~~~
Going into his third year of college was going to be a breeze. Will was going to be his roommate again, he was in good standing in all of his classes, and there was no reason for any of his professors to be up his ass about anything. Jim was going to have a great year.
Then Will dropped out.
Jim took a deep breath. It’s not like everyone could take the pressure of MIT. That was completely understandable. Thing is, that meant he would be randomly assigned a new roommate. Everyone he knew already paired off with their friends, leaving him the odd man out, so he had to start from scratch.
An acute sense of dread set in when he emailed in his housing application. He prayed for the best, but his mom told him that college is where you meet your worst roommate, and if he’d gotten along fine with his for the past couple of years, the odds of his next one being the worst were not in his favor.
Whatever. He supposed he’d find out when he got back to campus.
~~~
“Um, hi, are you James?”
He turned. “Yeah. Are you Anthony?”
The kid - he had to be a kid - made a face. “Call me Tony. Everyone but my mother does.”
“Cool. Guess you’re my roommate Tony.”
“Guess so.”
That was the last thing Tony said to him that day. They moved their stuff into their respective sides of the room silently, and once Tony was finished, he disappeared to god knows where. At least he wasn’t too loud.
Jim didn’t even see him again until their first hall meeting. He got up before him, came back after he went to sleep, and somehow never stopped in when he was there.
“Tony, hey.”
The kid startled when he tapped him on the shoulder. “Oh, sorry. Hi James.”
“Jim’s fine. We have to sign roommate agreement forms? We can head back to our dorm and do that now if you have the time.”
“I guess I have some time. We just have to put it in the mail slot of the Hall Director’s office when we’re done, right?”
“Yeah. Shouldn’t be too hard. Just a few questions so no one steps on anyone else’s toes.”
Once they were in the room, Jim shut the door behind him and grabbed a pen out of the mug on his desk. “So. Lights out?”
“I’m a night owl, so that’s on you.”
“I try to have the lights off by midnight, but as long as you’re quiet, I shouldn’t have an issue with you being up.”
“Noise restrictions?”
Jim snorted. “I mean, don’t blare death metal or break the sound barrier or anything, but I don’t care that much during the day. After curfew I’d like it quieter, but I’m not gonna ask you to be a mouse. What’s your stance on cleanliness?”
“Honestly, I’m okay with a reasonable amount of clutter. I’m an engineer, I’m used to it.”
“No shit? I am too. What’s your focus?”
“Mechanical and biochemical, you?”
“Aero and astronautics. We might end up in some of the same physics classes.”
“Hell yeah. Wait, are you okay with swearing?”
“I’m from Philadelphia, asshole,” Jim snarked. He succeeded in getting a grin out of Tony. “Speaking of things that might offend people-” he tapped the sheet of paper.
Tony glanced over his shoulder at it. “‘How to handle one of us bringing someone back to the room for personal activities?’”
“I’m gonna take a guess and say that means sex. Are you even old enough for this question?”
He swatted Jim’s shoulder. “Technically, yes. Shut up.”
“I’m just saying you look like a kid. I know I was a young freshman, but I don’t ever remember looking like an actual baby.”
“Okay, first of all, I’m sixteen, not a baby.”
“And second?”
“I’m not a freshman. I’m a third year.”
“You are not.”
“I know, they roomed the child prodigies together, what a coincidence.” Tony rolled his eyes.
“How did you know I was a child prodigy?”
“I uh, may have asked around a bit,” Tony admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Admitted at 16, in your third year at 18, probably at the top of your program.”
Jesus, was this kid paranoid? “I see. Back to the question even if you’re barely legal.”
“We could always go with the classic sock on the doorknob. Then the one of us not getting laid knows not to come in and can go hang out somewhere else for a bit.”
“Works for me. Now, boundaries and are we sharing anything?”
“I can stick to my half of the room and keep my stuff within those bounds,” Tony said. “Just ask if you need to borrow things and I’ll probably say yes to anything that isn’t my food. Then it’s a strong maybe.”
“I can work with that. Sign here please.”
Tony jotted his messy signature down at the bottom of the paper, and Jim gave his right under it. “You want me to drop it off?”
Jim shook his head. “We have until tomorrow to turn it in. No sense doing it before one of us goes somewhere.” He eyed Tony up and down. “Unless you’re going somewhere, that is.”
He opened his mouth and closed it again. “Actually, I think I’ll stay in tonight. We haven’t really gotten a chance to get to know each other. Do I really have to call you Jim?”
~~~
The sock wasn’t used much, to Rhodey’s relief. Not like he would judge, but where would he find the time? His schedule was already packed enough without accounting for the time and effort needed to bring someone home.
Oh, and yes, Tony decided to call him Rhodey instead of Jim. What was he going to do with this kid?
On the occasions the sock was used, he would just go to the library. He was on a first name basis with pretty much everyone who worked at the front desk, so he’d just wave to them and head up to a quiet corner to work on his homework.
Still, it was a rare enough occasion that he never hesitated to unlock the door one Friday night. He’d trone of his coworkers so he could work the afternoon shift and get the weekend off for once.
“Hey Tones, what do you say about-” He looked up as he walked in the door.
“Shit!” Tony yelped. “I forgot about the sock! God, Rhodeybear, I am so sorry.”
He didn’t even know how to react. Tony was bright red and clearly in the middle of something, panting like he hadn’t tasted air in weeks. “Oh, my, okay, I’ll just…” he pointed out of the room and moved to grab his wallet and his keys.”
“That’s Rhodey?” A new voice asked. A new, male voice asked. A voice that apparently belonged to the messy blonde head of hair that popped up over Tony’s pillow. He fixed him with a smirk. “Well hiya sailor.”
Rhodey waved awkwardly before he tried to dart out.
“I already told you he’s Air Force, Grant,” he heard Tony say. “Rhodey, wait!”
He paused in the hallway and turned around. “What?”
“Look, I am so, so, sorry you had to see that.”
“I’m still kinda seeing it dude.”
Tony looked down at himself, as if just being made aware of the fact he still wasn’t wearing a shirt. “Again, so, so, so, sorry.”
“Go back inside before an RA sees you and you get a citation. We can talk about this when you’re fully clothed, okay? I’ll just go somewhere else for a while.”
“I promise I won’t forget again. We made a deal, and I broke it.”
“Mistakes happen,” Rhodey assured him. “Let’s just be grateful you didn’t have more than your shirt off when I walked in.”
“Oh god, I’m never gonna live this down am I?”
“Probably not, no,” Rhodey grinned. “I think you have someone waiting.” He gestured back towards their room.
“Christ, Grant, yeah! I’ll catch you later.”
The door only opened one more time, and Rhodey glanced back to see the sock in its proper place on the doorknob.
He needed to go on a long, long walk.
~~~
“Come on, Rhodey. It’s just one night.”
“I have an advanced chem lab due Tuesday, I should really start on the write up.”
“Rhodey?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s Friday.”
Rhodey rolled his eyes and tipped his head back to look at Tony. Turns out their living situation wasn’t an absolute nightmare, and they stuck together into senior year. They upgraded from a dorm to an apartment, where they mercifully had their own bedrooms, but that didn’t mean they didn’t spend the same amount of time together.
“And since when do you struggle with chem? You’re literally taking this as an elective even though you took it freshman year.”
“It’s a refresher course,” Rhodey said futilely. “I needed the credits.”
“You also need a break. We’re going out.”
“Do I have to?” he groaned.
“Yes,” Tony told him. “Look, if it really is that bad, you can go home after an hour, deal?”
“Deal.” They shook on it, and Rhodey got up and stretched. “When are we leaving?”
“Ten minutes, so you better change into something you can dance in.”
Much to Rhodey’s chagrin, it wasn’t really all that bad. Honestly, the pounding headache he had behind his eyes was starting to fade even with the intense bass of the speakers.
Even when Tony dragged him out onto the dance floor, he realized he was actually having a lot of fun. Damn him for being right.
They got separated at some point, so he had to look for him to make sure he hadn’t left. Rhodey spotted him in the middle of a few people, both male and female.
“Bisexual,” Tony told him last year. “I’m bisexual, so I don’t really have a preference when it comes to sex or dating or any of that.”
Tony was perfectly capable of making his own choices, but that didn’t stop Rhodey’s first instinct to pull him away from them. That was what he wanted, but he guessed he never really let go of the fact that Tony was still basically just a kid.
He checked his watch. It had been an hour. More than, actually. Tony wouldn’t care if he left. He could claim he was tired and needed the extra sleep.
Rhodey wouldn’t even have to mention the funny feeling in his stomach, telling him something was truly and deeply wrong.
~~~
It kept happening over the years. Every time he saw Tony getting a little too close to a man, something felt off.
Not that Rhodey was around much. After graduation, he shipped off to basic training, and then to base, but every leave he made time to go to California to visit Tony.
And every time he was in California, Tony made him go out.
Rhodey was 26 when it happened. His life was finally shaping up the way he wanted it to. He wasn’t overseas as often, landed that liaison position at Stark Industries that Tony swore up and down he hadn’t rigged for him, and was finally to a place where not everything felt like he was sprinting everywhere all the time.
Yeah. It was nice to finally breathe again.
Not rushing to keep up anymore also meant vacation time. Vacation time that was occasionally used to help Tony bear the brown-nosing of his late father’s business partners.
Thankfully Tony didn’t need him that badly, so he sat back and sipped a glass of champagne, chatting only when necessary.
The guy who was really keeping Tony company was new to his staff. A talented engineer, right about their age, who’d met Tony at a coffee shop. Rhodey wasn’t sure how they’d ended up talking about their jobs, but they talked enough that Tony found out he was unhappy with the company he’d been working for and offered him a place at SI.
There was no tension between them. Rhodey’s been wary of Tony’s judgment slipping around men he found attractive in the past, but this didn’t seem like one of those times. Everything was pointing to a solid working relationship with the new guy.
Henry. His name was Henry.
“Colonel Rhodes.”
“How are you, Senator?”
“Very well, thank you. How’s life back in the states?”
“Wouldn’t trade it for the world, sir.”
The senator chuckled. “Working for Stark now, ain’t you?”
“Part time. I still get my fair share of action in the field.”
“Your life won’t ever be boring. Speaking of Stark, have you seen him lately?”
Politics. How charming. “He’s around, I’m sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
He slipped around the man without much trouble. Rhodey wasn’t his real target.
The room was starting to feel stuffy, so Rhodey scanned the room for an exit. He was fairly certain this venue had a balcony that he would very much like to utilize.
Sure enough, there was a balcony. It was on the floor above where the event was being held. A few other people had also found their way outside, so Rhodey walked until he was out of ear shot of all of them.
Or so he thought.
A few moments later, he heard what sounded like whispering coming from the other side of a potted plant near him. He’d been so lost in thought that he must not have noticed their voices when he first came out.
He’d rather not bother them, so he stepped back to walk away, and accidently caught a glimpse of a couple.
Not a couple. It was Tony and Henry.
Then Tony reached up and kissed him.
The kiss was damn near tender. There was no rush, no urgency of Tony wanting to take him back to his hotel room, just a sweet, sweet kiss.
Every time he saw Tony with a man, his stomach turned. He hadn’t recognized that emotion then, but now?
It washed over him like a bucket of ice cold water.
Disgust.
He was absolutely disgusted that Tony was kissing a man.
As soon as it hit him, he ran. Well, he ran as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself. He needed to get home.
Home.
Philadelphia.
His mom had raised him better than this. She taught him that while other people might think it’s wrong, their two neighbors, the two women, weren’t really sisters, but loved each other too much to live apart. He had no objection to Tony dating guys. As long as two people cared about each other, that was what mattered, right?
Rhodey checked his watch. If he left now, he could be in Pennsylvania by morning. All he needed to do was grab his bag from the hotel and leave Tony a note and-
He laughed bitterly. Even when he was overtaken by waves of nausea, he was thinking of Tony and how he’d react to Rhodey’s sudden disappearance.
The duffel bag he brought from California was still sitting unpacked next to the door. There was a pen and a pad of paper next to the phone that he used to scribble out a note to slip under Tony’s door while he called the front desk to check out.
Hey Tones,
Sorry to leave you high and dry. Vacations don’t last forever, so I’m going home for a couple days. See you when I’m back in San Francisco.
-Rhodes
~~~
Rhodey grew up living in one house. All his life up until he turned sixteen it was his mom, his sister, and him, under the same, unchanging roof.
The doorbell hadn’t worked since his junior year, but the old brass knocker was still intact.
“I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a hundred times!” His mother shouted from inside. “If you’re selling something, I ain’t buying-“ The door swung open, and she trailed off “…it. Jamie, honey, what’s a matter?”
“Hi mama,” he choked.
“Oh, dear. Hold on, let me make you some coffee.”
She set the mug down in front of him at the kitchen table. “Is everything okay, Jamie?”
“I’m not in any kind of trouble if that’s what you’re asking.” He let out what equated to maybe half a laugh. “It’s more of a personal thing.”
“Came home to ask me for advice?”
He nodded wearily. “It’s. Well, it’s Tony.”
“What about him? Is he all right?”
“He’s fine,” he assured her. “Honestly, it’s barely even about him.”
“Then who’s it about?”
Who was it about? “Do you remember Ms. Camila who lived up the street with Ms. Haufman?”
“Sure I do. They still live there. Actually, I meant to tell you last time you called, they had a sweet little commitment ceremony. They invited the neighbors they could trust. I met their dog, which is the cutest little thing you’ve ever seen, I swear. What do they have to do with Tony?”
“You raised me to understand and accept everyone for who they are no matter who they love.”
“Which you’ve always done,” she nodded. “Even before I taught you, I know you’d care about people enough to get that.”
“I don’t think I can do it,” he whispered, ashamed. “I can’t do that with Tony for some reason.”
There was a pause. “How long have you known?”
“Since the year I met him, mama, I’ve always supported him, but I’m afraid I can’t. I don’t want to be homophobic. He’s my best friend, I can’t lose him.” The thought was too much to comprehend.
She didn’t respond to that. “When was the last time you slept?” she asked instead.
“A couple days ago? I’ve been a bit busy-“
“Being a grown man and having a personal crisis, I know. You want me to tell you what I think? I don’t think you’re being homophobic. You’re self aware enough to know that would be a problem, not to mention guilty and also definitely overthinking things. Do me a favor and take a nap. I’ll wake you for dinner, and then you’re staying the night. I’m not letting you drive back to California like this.”
~~~
With one last kiss on the cheek, she sent him on his way with leftovers from last night’s dinner.
“For the couple of days you’re spending on the road,” she said. “And a little extra for Tony when you see him.”
The containers were in the back seat in a small cooler she had to spare. He’d see how far he could get before he absolutely had to stop and sleep, but at the very least, he was confident that he’d be back in his own apartment with enough time to wallow in his thoughts for a couple days before clocking in on Monday.
Three days later, he pulled into the parking garage of his apartment building, and made the Herculean effort to drag everything out of his car so he didn’t have to make multiple trips. That didn’t stop him from not putting away more than the bare minimum before collapsing into his own bed for the first time in almost a week.
Rhodey woke up to someone banging on his door. He rolled over and looked at the clock.
It was 9am. Who the fuck?
“Rhodey? I know you’re home, I saw your car in the garage. I called your mom, she said you’d already left her house. We need to talk.”
Tony. It was Tony.
He grumbled as he pulled an old sweatshirt over his head. “What?” Rhodey demanded.
“Did I wake you? I’m sorry, it’s kind of urgent.”
“It’s fine. Come on in, I’ll make breakfast. What do you want to talk about?”
“It’s Henry. We uh, we were dating.”
“Were?”
“I kind of broke up with him? He just wanted to use me for press, and maybe company secrets. You don’t seem surprised that we were dating.”
“Parts of your story weren’t adding up, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out,” Rhodey shrugged.
“And you were okay with that? With me dating a guy?”
The 38 hour drive from Philadelphia solved that for him. “Of course. I’ve never had an issue with that.”
“You always seem tense when I bring guys around,” Tony prodded.
“Not because I’m not okay with you dating men.”
“Then why?”
He studied Tony for a moment, and snorted. It wasn’t homophobia. Mama was right, he was overthinking this. “I’m uncomfortable with you kissing guys,” he said matter of factly.
“You’re… okay. Why?”
“Because I only want you kissing one guy.”
“That’s helpful. So this will all stop when I settle down and get married?”
“No,” Rhodey told him, removing Tony’s coffee cup from his hand and twisting him around in his seat, hovering mere centimeters from his face. “This will all stop when you kiss me.”
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Text
let me be your ruler.2
Warnings: guns, dubcon, noncon, handjob.
This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Pairing: (dark!mob!) Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: You try to forget about Peter but he won’t forget about you.
Note: I hate that I am the way that I am. I wanted to keep this to two parts but you know me. 
Anyways, I’m excited for this and hope you are too.
Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!
Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3
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Drowsy in the afterglow of sex and alcohol, you fell quickly into a deep sleep. You didn’t even change before you sank into bed. You hardly recalled the elevator ride up or stumbling into your apartment and tripping around the shadows to your room. It was only a fractured journey from the car to your mattress.
You woke as your phone vibrated under your pillow. You must have buried it there before passing out. You groaned and rolled over as you dug it out. There were several notifications next to a single name; Peter. You thumbed through each message; written in the same tone as his voice. Demanding, without question.
‘Great night, Princess.’ ‘We’ll do it again Saturday.’ ‘Wear something nice.’ … The messages escalated smoothly from doting to commanding. It jolted you back to the night before, the way he seemed to just thrust you through the night. The dress, the drinks, the men, the guns…
You sat up, your panties crooked on your hips. You muttered and swiped away the messages. You weren’t seeing him again. You couldn’t. You had stuck your toe in too deep already. It was best to nip these things in the bud. Not to let yourself get dragged in so far you couldn’t see the surface. 
Peter was more than mysterious; he was dangerous.
You went to the kitchen and waited for the machine to grind as the scent of coffee filled your heavy body. You drank too much, did too much. You still felt Peter’s hand between your legs. It made your chest tight and your head spin. You looked down at your body, the red dress wrinkled and askew.
You left the coffee to brew and retreated to your room. You tore off the dress and your panties. You pulled on a cotton shirt and loose pajama pants. You stormed back into the kitchen and shoved the clothing in the bin. You snatched your phone from the counter and swiped up the lock screen.
‘Sorry, I don’t think this is going to work out.’ You typed. Your hand shook as you hovered over send. You heard Halle’s door and you pressed your thumb down. You looked up at her before you pulled up the block option.
“How was your night?” She asked as she inhaled the aroma of your morning ritual.
“Eh, you know, another dead end,” you pushed your thumb down and the conversation disappeared. “Just not my type.”
“Really?” She whined. “He seemed so nice. And he liked you so much.”
You blackened your screen and placed your phone face down. “Well, you know, things don’t always turn out.” You shrugged and pulled out a mug, “You want some?”
“Are you at least going to tell me about it?” She pouted. “And yes, lots of sugar.”
You poured her coffee and handed her the sugar dish. You frowned at how much powder she scooped into her cup but it was her most endearing trait. She knew what she wanted and she didn’t care what anyone thought.
“Uh, well, it wasn’t anything special. He took me to a party but… I don’t know. What kind of first date is that? Take me somewhere I don’t know anyone…” You ran your finger around the rim of your cup. “Maybe when I was younger but now.”
“You sound like such an old lady,” she snickered, “Oh my god!” She stood straight, “Are we old?”
“I am, but you’ll always be young at heart, Hal,” you rolled your eyes.
“So you’re not going to try a second?” She prodded.
“I don’t think so,” you cradled your mug, “He… hasn’t even messaged me back.” 
You hated lying but Halle had gotten you into this mess and you knew she’d harp on you for not even giving Peter a chance. But you had. He wasn’t what he seemed and you didn’t want to stick around and find out what exactly he was hiding.
“What?” She huffed. “Well, fuck him then.” She sipped from her coffee and her lips curved as she swallowed. “Wait, did you…”
“Hal, come on,” you snipped.
“Oh, fine, but you know, maybe if you got laid, you wouldn’t be so uptight.” She teased.
“Not this again,” you groaned and slid your phone off the counter. “You know what, I got work to do.”
“Uh huh,” she hummed as you turned to leave, “Work. When did you get so old and boring?”
“One of us had to,” you called back over your shoulder, “And we both know you’re never growing up.”
Your phone was pleasantly still for the rest of the day. You felt a twinge of guilt having blocked Peter but then you recalled the men and their holsters. You found your mind drifting away from your work and your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you thought back. 
The company he kept added to the uneasiness in your chest. Steve was friendly but arrogant. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, what was it he introduced you as, “Peter’s girl”. And that man, Bucky. He didn’t seem too fond of Peter but the way he’d grinned at you, as if he knew something you didn’t. Well, he did, they all did. Your head stormed as you tried to figure out their secret.
You shook off the curdling paranoia and hunched as you squinted closer at your computer. You made yourself focus as you skimmed the tight font and added your suggestions in the margin. You sent off your edited draft as your stomach groaned; empty and churning from the acidic coffee.
You grabbed your phone and your mug as you stood. You checked the time. Almost noon. You grumbled and went back to the kitchen, thankfully empty as Halle had left for work an hour ago. You set your cup down and expanded your notifications. A single phone call from a private number and a new follower on your mostly empty Insta.
You opened the neglected app and hit the notification. The profile was emptier than yours. the profile pic was just black and there were no posts. The name gave you no hints as it was obviously generated by the site. 
You went back and a comment popped up on the picture of your and Halle at last year's winter market. ‘Gorgeous, Princess.’ You read and reread the two words as you leaned against the counter. You bit your fingertips and went back to the mysterious profile. You hit ‘block’ and locked your phone.
Surely, he’d get the hint sooner or later. It was one date and the man seemed to have no trouble with women. He’d move on and you’d both forget about that off putting night. You just had to wait him out.
A week rolled by as you kept yourself busy with your work. The phone calls stopped after the first day and you had no more peculiar alerts awaiting you. Your plan had worked. It wasn’t exactly the best; it was a bit cowardly, actually. Yet, knowing how Peter was and how ‘no’ seemed beyond his vocabulary, you had more faith in your evasion than his understanding.
As the weekend approached, Halle convinced you to come out with the girls. You had eluded those opportunities for the past year as you found yourself disillusioned and disinterested in the club scene. You felt as if you were aging out of it and seeing all those fresh-faced coeds assured you of it. Even so, the girls liked to dance and in their words, you need to ‘let loose’.
You couldn’t disagree. You had been on edge and the mounting emails in your inbox didn’t ease the stress of everything else.
With a pre-drink burning a whole in your stomach, you pulled on a pair of flats as your bag hung across your chest. You were comfortable but not stuffy in your tight jeans and the bright pink top with the criss-cross straps. You felt pretty good and the vodka made you optimistic.
You headed down to the street and caught a cab. The dread evaporated the closer you got and as you pulled up to the front of the flashing club, Molly and Desiree waved at your approach. The four of you joined the line as you searched out your ID.
“So,” Molly said, “Halle told us about your little date!”
“Date?” You blinked. “Oh, yeah, that didn’t pan out.”
“Of course,” Desiree scoffed, “That guy was so cute though.”
“Yeah, he was nice, but we just didn’t…”
“He’s ghosting her!” Halle interjected, “Didn’t even text the next day, ugh.”
Halle crossed her arms and you nodded. You weren’t going to correct her, you didn’t need the other two piling on about your dormant love life. You came out to have a good time, that’s what they promised you, and you didn’t want to think about the night that still stood so vividly in your mind.
As you stepped up to the bouncer, he barely looked at your card. You were almost offended as he waved you through and carded the next party more closely. You glanced around at your friends but they hardly seemed bothered. Well, only Halle had reached that big three-o with you, and the other two girls still had a year or two to go.
Madonna’s voice pumped from the speakers as you neared the bar. You looked around at the streaming lights and the bodies shadowed in the strobe. You were surprised you recognized the song and you nudged Desiree as she waited for Molly to order the first round.
“What’s up with the music?” You asked.
“It’s retro night! Duh! Just for you!” She giggled and you elbowed her harder.
Molly turned and passed out the plastic cups with their thin straws and you followed Halle to the low stage where the smoke machine billowed. You coughed at the taste of the fog and sucked on your straw. You began to sway as the other girls led the charge. You could help but be enlivened by the deep base and the energy all around.
As you danced, the girls yelled back and forth about their recent drama. Desiree’s date had been more successful than your own, Molly was certain she was in love with Charlie? You still didn’t know. And Halle was just riding the vibe.
You finished your drink and the other girls stacked their cups in yours before you crossed the stage to leave the garbage on the table just beside the platform. 
You looked over at the bar, pondering another, and your eye was caught by a figure who seemed out of place. The cut of his suit, the way he leaned on hand on a stool, and the intense gaze sent in your direction startled you.
You blinked and stumbled over to the single step down to the floor. You pushed through the bodies, nearly tumbling as a tipsy guy crashed into you. You got to the bar and looked up and down it. Girls waved their hands to get the bar tender’s attention and guys sidled up to them. 
Bucky was gone. It was him. Maybe the air was filled with smoke and the lights were flashing like a siren, but you were certain. Why was he there? How had he found you among the city? Among the reverie in that club? Why had he been watching you? And where had he gone?
You went to where you’d seen him and searched the perimeter of the bar. You went back through the club and slipped past those just getting in. You tapped on the bouncer’s shoulder and he grumbled before he turned and bent to hear you. “What is it?”
“Did you see a guy in a suit leave? Dark hair and--”
“There’s a lot of people here,” he shrugged you off.
You snarled and turned back. You got ahead of the flood of new arrivals and fought your way back to the three girls on the stage. As you walked up, Halle pouted and grabbed your elbow. “Boo, we thought you were getting another round.”
“No, no, I…” you squirmed and tried to get back into the rhythm, “I had to use the restroom.”
“Well, how about now? Wanna refill the tank?” She jibed.
“Uh, sure,” you picked at the purse. “Be right back.”
“Make mine a double,” Molly called after you. “Thanks.”
Despite drowning yourself in alcohol, you barely slept and when you did, you were back in the club, staring at a man you never expected to see again. You wondered if maybe you’d imagined it or if Peter had sent him after you or if it was someone else and you were just tipsy and blind. Whatever it was, you couldn’t shake the foreboding that followed you into the next morning.
Your Saturday was painful and lazy. You spent your hangover on the couch and barely saw Halle as she cowered in the dim light of her room. You fell asleep there and dragged yourself to bed just before nine. You really were old, or at least, getting there.
Sunday slapped you in the face after another night of disjointed dreams. Peter and the room full of men, Bucky at the bar, and static in between. Responsibility called you from your mattress and you cleaned up and dressed for your weekly trip to the grocery store. 
As you came out, Halle was glaring at her phone. “What’s up?” You asked as you shoved your wallet in your purse. “You coming to the store?”
“I got called in for one.” She pouted. “Tell me why I fucked that asshole?”
“Shit, Hal, I’m sorry. Well, I’ll just do the shop myself.” You frowned, “Let you get ready to deal with all that.”
“It’s all because he fucking texted me on Friday and drunk me decided to reply and then… urgh, why do I do this?”
“I don’t know why you’re asking me?” You grinned.
“Oh, please go before I throw this at you,” she shook her phone, “And don’t forget my oat milk.”
“Whole milk?” You asked as you slipped your shoes on, “Got it.”
“Don’t,” she warned.
“Alright, alright. Hopefully I catch you before you go,” you stood and grabbed your keys from the hook. “Have fun with Mr. Bossman.”
“Shut up,” she buried her head in her hands, “Oh my god!”
You tried not to laugh as you left. You felt bad for her as you didn’t know what you’d do in her situation. Looking for a new job had been her first thought but the market was never very good and the man who was driving her away, wasn’t exactly a shining reference.
You took your usual route to the grocer. You had your list on your phone and loaded your cart. You filled the reusable bags and set off for a very inconvenient subway ride home. Your arms screamed as you carried the load up your street and struggled to find your keys at the door. The elevator was too slow and you ended up hauling it all up the stairs. You were out of breath as you got to your apartment.
You turned the knob just a little and kicked open the door. You stomped in and dropped the bags. “So, I got your damn milk--” You stopped short as your voice collided with Halle’s. She was already dressed for work but her braids were still loose. She stood behind the couch as she talked to your unexpected visitor.
“Oh, there she is,” she said snappily, “I wouldn’t blame her for kicking you out but I’ll leave it up to her.” Halle turned to you, “Look who’s here. Only took him a week to come around.”
“Hal,” you said softly as you set the bags down. “What--” You lowered your voice, “Why’d you let him in?”
“So he can apologize to you,” she huffed loudly and passed you to close the door, “Don’t you worry, I still gotta finish getting ready so you have lots of time to hear him out.” She looked at him sharply.
“Really, it’s…” You gulped as you peeked over at Peter. He sat calmly in the chair as he watched you. “Yeah, okay.”
She marched into her room and as her door closed, you reluctantly approached the back of the couch where your roommate had just stood. You stared at Peter, uncertain what to say. You hadn’t been prepared for this; for him to be there in your apartment, your home.
“Peter,” you ran your hands over the couch cushions.
“You lie to everyone you know?” He asked. “As I recall, I’m not the one who’s been… ‘ghosting’, as your friend says.”
“I…” You shifted and picked at the seam, “Look, I told you it wasn’t going to work--”
“You barely gave me a chance. Gave us a chance,” he said as he pushed his legs apart. “That’s hardly fair.”
“Well, you know, I have work and it’s just not a good time for me right now.” You sniffed. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but--”
“Ha, princess, I don’t hurt so easy,” he smirked, “Why don’t you sit down and we can talk properly… finally.”
You scratched your brow and cleared your throat. “I don’t think we need to do that.”
Your voice trailed off as Halle opened her door again. She swept out and you waited as she scooped her purse off the counter and sidestepped the groceries still sat on the floor.
“Gotta go,” she sang, “I’ll see you after work.” She stopped by the door as she wiggled into her heels, “Let me know how you deal with… him.”
“See ya,” you said quietly and watched her go. You looked back at Peter slowly as he chuckled.
“What did you tell her about me?” He wondered.
“Nothing. Really.” You said. “I have your jacket. You want it back--”
“Sit,” he gestured to the couch. “We’ll worry about that later.”
“No. Peter, please. I’m just not interested, okay?”
“You seemed pretty interested in the car,” he purred, “Seemed real interested.”
“I…” You looked at the wall and squirmed. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“You were asking for it in that dress,” he intoned. “Now,” his movement drew your eye as he reached into his jacket, “I don’t like playing things like this.” He pulled the pistol from its holster and rested it on the arm of the chair, his hand firm on the handle. “Please, sit down. Let’s talk.”
You stared at the gun. Your blood burned hot and you felt blindly as you came around the couch and dropped down. Your eyes never left the muzzle. Would he use it on you?
“Oh, princess, don’t you worry, I’m just getting comfortable.” He taunted. “Now, I’ve been tryna figure out where I went wrong. I got you a pretty dress, I took you to a nice party, I fed you champagne, and I even gave you a little dessert,” he mused and his lip curled, “So I gotta confess I’m confused as you why you’ve been hiding from me.”
You were paralyzed. You clutched your knees and gritted your teeth. You didn’t know what to say. You’d convinced yourself that you’d never see him again. Your method was tried and trued, at least, when it was used against you.
“Don’t be afraid. You can tell me. I really would prefer the truth.” His finger slid along the short barrel as he spoke. “So?”
“I… Peter, I don’t think that we would, uh, work out. Look, I don’t like guns and…” Your lashes fluttered, “I don’t really know that I wanna be around someone who carries one. Not too mention, your friends--”
“My friends. Princess, your mine. They won’t touch you.” He raised his chin. “They’re not that bold.”
You were silent. Your heart pulsed loudly and you took a breath. You stood cautiously and crossed your arms. “Peter, we talked. I told you my reasons. I think you should… go.” You said as firmly as you could.
He laughed again. His cheek twitched and the smile fell away from his face. He rose slowly and turned his gun to tuck it away under his jacket. His eyes never left you as he did.
“You really want me to go?” He asked.
You nodded and held your breath. “Yes.”
He threw his hands out and clapped them against his pants. He shook his head and crossed the room. You turned to watch him as he passed and suddenly, you were thrust towards him. His hand was on the back of your neck as he pulled you against him. He held you tightly and you felt his gun poking through his jacket.
He grinned, his lips only an inch from yours. “I’m going, princess, but not without you.”
“Let go of me!” You struggled with him. “Get off!”
“Princess,” he warned as his fingers dug into your neck, “Settle down.”
“No, I told you to go.” You hissed as you grabbed his wrist. “Please.”
“Let’s get this straight,” he said, “You don’t tell me what to do. Even if it gets me hard.” He crushed his lips to your suddenly and you wrestled with him, your teeth grazing his lip before he pulled back sharply, barely escaping a bite. “You don’t wanna do that.”
His hand went to your chin and he looked you in the face. He rubbed his nose against yours and growled. You beat on his chest and he squeezed tighter.
“Shit, let’s not just rush out of here,” he released you, “You should get those away before they spoil.”
He stepped back and placed his hand on the front of his jacket, where his gun was hidden. You gaped at him and your eyes flitted to the door.
“Ah, don’t worry, we’ll be on our way soon enough,” he said, “So long as you hurry up.”
You swallowed and he moved with you as you went to the bags. He blocked the door as you pulled the straps apart and began to unpack shakily. You dropped a can and it rolled along the floor before he stopped it with his foot. He kicked it back and leaned an elbow on the door frame.
You picked it up with several other cans and went to the cupboard. You snapped the door closed as you felt around the drawer with your other hand. You heard a click and looked to Peter as he aimed his pistol at you. He tilted his head. 
“Don’t do that,” he intoned as your hand lingered just inches from the knives inside the drawer.
You went back to the spread of groceries and tried to ignore him as you put everything in its place. As you bent to fill the crisper, he purred, a sizzly ‘princess’ under his breath. You finished up and packed the bags one into the other. You left them on the counter and again, he put his gun away.
“Princess, let me tell you something,” he gripped the door handle, “I don’t take that out without using it very often so don’t press my patience.” He turned the knob slowly, “I’ve waited on you long enough.”
The car ride was tense and long. Peter drove you uptown and you watched out the window helplessly. You rubbed your palms together nervously as they dampened with sweat. He’d taken your phone when you reached for it. He tossed it and it was somewhere on the floor.
He drove past the condos and the walk-ups and continued on nearly the exact path he’d taken on the momentous night. Another grand house awaited you but you remained in the seat as Peter climbed out. He opened your door and still you didn’t move. He reached across you to unbuckle the seat belt and grabbed your arm. He jerked you out onto your feet and sighed.
“Peter,” you begged, “What’s going on? Please, you’re scaring me.”
“Princess, have I done you wrong?” He asked but you didn’t answer. “I won’t hurt you.”
“You’re hurting me right now,” you wriggled your arm and he shoved you ahead of him.
“In,” he demanded as you stumbled up the rounded steps. “Now.”
You opened the door and stepped inside. You crossed the marble floor of the foyer as he directed you from behind. He followed at a pace, close enough that you couldn’t flee. Even if you did, you wouldn’t make it far.
“Pete,” the voice startled you and you stopped at the bottom of the wide staircase. Bucky stood in a doorway to your left. His gaze moved from you to Peter and back again. “I didn’t realise you brought company.”
“You’re still here?” Peter snipped.
“Was I supposed to leave?” He sneered. “You got me and Steve running around and you’re gonna kick us to the curb.”
“You don’t look very busy to me,” Peter growled and neared to rest his hand on your lower back. He leaned in and whispered in your ear. “Upstairs, turn left, the room at the very end. I don’t like hide and seek, you got me?”
You nodded and looked at Bucky again. His mouth slanted knowingly and his tongue poked out for just a moment. You turned up the stairs and left Peter behind. You reached the top and listened for a moment to his muffled voice.
“You and Steve do your fucking job and leave me alone. Understand. I don’t want to be bothered.” Peter snarled.
“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna be interrupted either,” Bucky snickered. “Not with her.”
“Go,” Peter barked. “Now.”
“Ay, you might be Tony’s man but you still gotta watch yourself,” Bucky warned. “This little arrangement isn’t gonna last forever…”
You went to your left and to the door at the end, like he said. You entered and couldn’t help but gasp at the immense bedroom. The black and white decor was expertly matched in marbles and exotics woods, plush velvet and polished sconces. You couldn’t help but admire the luxury.
You didn’t close the door. You glanced around dumbly and stood in one spot as you feared you might break something. You wrung your hands as you heard the steady footsteps and you spun as Peter entered. He looked even more agitated as he cracked his knuckles.
“Sorry about that, Princess,” he said, “Now where were we?” His eyes roved the room as he thought, “Ah, yes, an apology.”
“Apology. I…”
“Should I close the door?” He raised a brow, “You’d be surprised how sound carries in here.”
You frowned and he laughed as he swung the door shut. He neared you and bit the tip of his tongue as he considered you. His brown eyes bore into you and you took a step back. He stayed near and caught your wrist. His other hand fumbled with his belt and he let out a slow breath through his nose.
“Princess, I’d love to treat you how you deserve but you gotta be good to me too.” He pulled on your arm and twisted as you tried to resist. You hissed and he pushed your hand against his crotch. “I don’t forgive easy but I’m sure you can change that.”
“Don’t... don’t make me do this,” you uttered.
“Oh, but princess, you did this,” he pressed your hand around his bulge. “You take care of me and I’ll do the same.”
You parted your lips to argue and he grabbed the back of your head. He kissed you roughly and guided your hand to the top of his boxers. He slid your fingers under the elastic and urged you on, wrapping your fingers around his dick with a groan.
He squeezed until you gripped him firmly. He led your hand up and down as he held you to him, his hot breath filling you as it picked up. He forced his tongue into your mouth and you clawed at his jacket as he kept your other hand around him. He parted from your mouth at last and pressed his cheek to yours.
“Keep going, princess,” he purred as he slowly withdrew his hand from around yours. “You don’t wanna use your hand, I might think of something else.”
You quivered and slid your hand up and down his length. He nuzzled your neck and nibbled as he moaned against your skin. You could only move your hand as you stood against him stunned and rigid. He gripped your waist as you felt him tense and he murmured hungrily.
“Oh, princess,” he breathed and pushed his pelvis against your hands as he came. 
You felt the slick heat seep down your hand and slowed until he was breathless. He stilled your hand with his and carefully eased your hand from his pants. He stood straight and eyed your glistening fingers.
“Shit,” he swore as he caressed your cheek, “You made a mess of this suit.” He dropped his hand to the front of his pants as he smiled. He inhaled and pushed his shoulders back. “I forgive you, Princess.”
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chrisevansmaid · 3 years
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Virginal
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Summary: You go to a beach town in search of losing your virginity. The server at dinner is extra cute but it's also young Chris evans.
*this pic is from chris’s twitter*
MUST BE 18+!!!!
I see everyone saying this, so 18+ pleaseeeee. Begoneeeee youngins
Pairing: Chris Evans x female!reader, Young!Chris Evans x minor!reader, (Name inserted but you can switch it to yours)
Word Count: 3393
Perspective: Reader
Warnings: SMUTTT, p in v, mentions of smoking weed / dab pen, oral sex (female receiving), FLUFF AND ANGST, high sex, lowkey rough sex, dirty talk, degrading dirty talk, EXPLICIT sexual content, age gap, minor having sex with non-minor (17F with 20M), 
Authors note: 
FIRST FIC YAY!!!!!! Don't be mean pls <3.
I’m really bad at tenses so if it keeps switching from present to past tense sorry. The only grammar corrector I’m using is grammarly so if something doesn’t make sense oopsie, I’m too lazy from spending a while on this fic to go anal and analyze every sentence for errors. 
Okay so… I’m a pisces which basically means I can never stop daydreaming. Also the backstory is lowkey gonna be my backstory lol. This is how I wished I lost my virginity plus make it Chris evans.
*THIS IS NOT BASED OFF OF CHRIS ITS FULLY FROM MY IMAGINATION* 
Idk I'm bored and it's summer so I have nothing to do. YES THIS IS ABOUT A MINOR BUT IN MY STATE THE AGE OF CONSENT IS 16 SO CHILL.
18+ PLEASE STOP READING NOW IF YOU ARE A MINOR
So I’m a virgin. Not because I am a prude or anything, but it never worked. I like to self diagnose so my conclusion is I have vaginismus. That is basically rolled into my cervix/vagina clenches up whenever I try to have sex so no dick fits in and if anything does fit it's incredibly painful. It's not a matter of being turned on cus I could have Niagara Falls in my panties and it still wouldn’t work, trust me. Even being fingered was awful and I’ve been fingered like 10 times and none of them were enjoyable. My sister says I’m just really tight. Idk. I can finger myself and it's good-ish, I mean how far up can you reach with your own hand? 
But I’ve had enough of being a virgin and I just want someone to blow my back out. Preferably some sexy older guy. And because I’m sick and tired of having an untapped pussy I’ve devised a plan. I am going to the beach in a week or so and I am going to find the guy who I had my first kiss with and have him fuck me. Or some other hot guy I meet. But to make sure my inhibitions are lowered and my vagina doesn’t clench from nerves I am gonna get a little high before. 
1 week later.
My mom, stepdad, and I arrive at the beach and it is so pretty. I love this beach. It brings back so many good memories. I am rooming with my childhood friend, Sarah, and she knows I want to get fucked. We’ve snuck out before and we are so excited for this week. I take a picture of the beach and put it on my Snapchat story with my location tagged. This will let my first kiss know I’m near him so he can hit me up to fuck me. 
The day goes by kinda slow because all I could think of was walking up and down the boardwalk trolling for hot men. Finally, night comes and all the families that are at the beach go to dinner. I was kinda bored but then our server came. He was something else.
“Hi my name’s Chris and I’ll be your server tonight.” Ugh. Even his voice made my whole body warm up. His greenish blue eyes stared into my soul as he took my order. His dirty blonde hair was perfectly quaffed and the way his black shirt hugged his biceps was absolutely sinful. Okay yes, he was probably in his early twenties but who said I was ageist. If anything an older man would know how to fuck a woman better than any stupid high school senior that I would meet. 
I got up to go to the bathroom and saw Chris on my way. We locked eyes and didn't break contact until I went into the bathroom. As I stepped out of the bathroom I saw him again. It looked like he was waiting for me. His body was leaned up against the wall across from the bathroom I had just exited. He stopped me and said “Call me.” and handed me a piece of paper. Before I had a chance to say anything he turned and I was watching his perfect ass walk away. 
I went back to the table as if nothing happened. I don’t think anyone noticed my uncontrollable smile. Throughout the dinner, I could not tear my eyes away from our sexy server. I think Sarah noticed but I was gonna tell her about it when my parents weren’t right there. We finished dinner and all went back to the beach house. When we got back I told Sarah and she was so shook. We were racking our brains on what I should text Chris. I didn’t want to come off too strong but also I wanted this man to fuck me. So we settled on:
“Hey”
Yes. I know it's lame but he’s older defffffinitely older and I can’t act too young. Ugh, I am so scared of his response it's absolutely killing me. Sarah, two other girls that came to the beach, and I decide to go out for ice cream. At least ice cream would take my mind off waiting for a response. As we wait in line I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I pull it out and it’s Chris. 
“I thought I told you to call me” His response is very bold but for some reason, it only intrigues you more. Immensely more. I show Sarah and she smiles. 
“Guess who’s getting her wish tonight.”
“Oh my god,” I respond. “What do I say?” I am literally so scared that he will think I’m too young or too much of a child. 
“Um, don’t say anything. Call him.” Sarah says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 
Do I actually call him? I’m literally getting the worst knots in my stomach and now I have to shit and I’m literally so nervous over a phone call. I am not a spontaneous person. AT ALL. 
“Okay, I’m gonna call him.” I say to Sarah after literally pondering this for 5 minutes.
Oh god. This is so scary. I tell Sarah to get me a vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles and I step out of the line. I go to the walkway near the ice cream shop away from the crowd so I can hear better. I dial his number and put the phone to my ear.
It rings like 3 times and he picks up.
“Hey.” He says and his voice is even sexier than I remember. 
“Hey.” I literally didn’t know what to say and I am pacing up and down the sidewalk.
“So you must be the hot girl I gave my number to.”
“And you must be the sexy server.” Some wave of confidence came over me and that was the best response I could come up with.
“So what’s your name?”
“Olivia and if I remember correctly, your name is...” I paused to let him fill in the blank
“Chris.” 
“Chris, that's right.” I wanted to come off like I didn’t hang onto every word he said and so I played it off like his name wasn’t already filling my fantasies.
“So Liv, when am I gonna see you again?” He asks and this caught me a little off guard that he would jump straight to the point but I guess why prolong the inevitable.
“I don’t know, when are you free?”
“Can I pick you up tonight around 12?” Ugh yes. My plan was filling out nicely.
“Sounds great.” I mean what else am I supposed to say? 
“Send me where you’ll be and I’ll pick you up then.” His assertive tone was a panty fucking dropper. 
“Okay. See you then Chris.” I’ve picked up from my previous male experiences that if you say a guy's name he’ll be more inclined to fuck you. I mean I totally pulled that out of my ass but I wanted to sound like a confident vixen, not some 17 year old virgin. 
“Bye Liv.” The way he made up a nickname for me had me reddening in my cheeks and warming in my core. I say bye and hang up. As soon as the call ends I’m running back to Sarah and telling her every little detail. Okay, I really needed to get back home and shit. 
Sarah, the other girls, and I go back to the house and hang out for like an hour, and then it’s 11 and all the parents are asleep. I need to start preparing. So I take a phat shit and then shower even though I showered before dinner but I need to wash off my nervous sweats. I shave everywhere and when I get out I lotion my entire body, put on my sexy lingerie, and douse myself with perfume. I do my makeup but it’s simple and of course waterproof. I text Chris the address of the beach house but tell him to pick me up a couple houses down. I tell Sarah she needs to sneak out with me so if we get caught I can pretend me and her were just hanging outside the house. Sarah and I sneak out the back and bring her cart. I take a couple hits to calm myself down because god forbid I tense up before he can get his dick in. It's like 11:55. God my stomach is in knots. 
It’s 12. ‘Oh god’ I think to myself. I see a white range rover pull up at the end of the block. I say bye to Sarah and walk to the car. I see his face. Oh, fuck still sexy. I open his car door and jump into the passenger seat. 
“Hey.” I say
“Hey, Liv.” He says back. Him saying that little nickname he gave me is so much hotter in person. So so so much hotter. I think he knows what it does to me because his lips curl into a smirk. “Let’s go for a drive.” Chris says.
“Okay, I’m down.” I say back and kinda rethinking saying ‘I’m down’ because he is definitely rethinking how old I am.
We start driving around and talking and thank god the radio is on to fill any silence there could be. It’s on the country station and him liking country music is literally another added bonus. Then When it Rains it Pours comes on and I say “Omg I love this song.”
“Really?” He says back. “I’ve never met a girl as pretty as you that actually likes country music.” 
“Are you kidding? I love country music.” I say back not noting he just called me pretty. We mindlessly chat for like 20 minutes and Chris pulls the car into an empty parking lot that overlooks the whole beach town. 
“This is so pretty.” I say in awe of the gorgeous view. I can see from the corner of my eye that Chris is just looking at me.
“Not as good as my view.” He says back in a soft tone that has me melting to the floor of the car. I look back at him and we sit in silence just staring into each other's eyes. I glance at his lips and they look so kissable. They are the perfect amount of plump without being too big. When I look back to his eyes he is still staring at me. His lips almost form a smile and he grabs and cheek and kisses me. It’s even better than each and every one of my fantasies. I grab the back of his neck and kiss him even harder back. Before I know it the kiss gets more rushed and Chris is running his hands along the curve of my back. Our lips are crashing into each others with fervor like no other. He pulls me into his lap and he ruts his hips upward. He takes his left hand and moves the seat back and starts kissing down my neck. His lips leave little bite marks and he reaches my bosoms. He pulls my tank top down and pulls my breasts out of my bra and sucks on my right nipple as he pinches the left. Soft mewls leave my lips and he stops to look at me and the rush of cold air sends goosebumps across my skin. He leans up and kisses my neck and leaves marks all the way to my ear lobe and whispers “Before I fuck you until you can’t remember your name, How old are you?” 
Forming words is harder than I imagined so between pants I say back “17.” 
“Perfect” he whispers back while still biting my neck. “Come here” he says as he opens the door. I hop off him and outside the car and see the tent forming in his pants. He picks me up and wraps my legs around him and pins me against the car door. He bites my lip and I can’t imagine anything better than this moment. While still mounted on his he opens the door to the backseat and lays me down. He gets on top of me and shuts the door behind him. He ruts against my core and his jeans rub against the soft fabric of my athletic shorts. Although my mind is completely fixed on his engorged cock a thought forms in my mind. What if he thinks I’ve done this before? What If I’m so bad he doesn’t even speak to me again? These thoughts completely cloud my mind and Chris notices.
“What's wrong?” he says as he pulls away. I glance at his bitten lips and pant trying to form words. 
“Nothing just, I... I’m a virgin.” I blurt out. I am so scared I ruined the moment but his expression only intensifies. 
“Oh well we just can’t have that now can we?” He says back and his lust blown pupils grow darker and he kisses me with such intensity my thoughts completely leave my mind. I could get drunk off the taste of him. Chris breaks the kiss and rips off his shirt showing his perfectly chiseled abs. I felt them through the cotton but seeing them right in front of my eyes makes my mouth open. My lips peak into a smile and he picks me up and places my back closer to the car door. He rips off my shorts and starts kissing down my neck to my navel and I run my fingers through his hair. My chest rises and falls quicker as his lips reach my red lace covered mound. His teeth grab the waistband and he pulls off my panties. 
He inhales and says “So sweet.” His husky voice vibrating against my core. His kisses dance around my thighs. As more sounds leave my mouth Chris bites my skin. His hands hold my legs open as he licks down my folds. His tongue flickers across my clit leaving me trembling. I had never felt this way from anyone ever. My fingers run through his short dirty blonde hair and my nails dig into his scalp leaving crescent shaped indents. He slips his middle finger through my folds as he sucks on my clit. His fingers curl up hitting a spot I never knew existed. A feeling in my stomach starts intensifying and spreading through my entire body and I tremble in euphoria. Chris finger fucks me through my first ever orgasm. I shut my eyes tightly and when I open them Chris is staring right at me. I grab the hair on the nape of his neck and pull him back up to kiss me. I can taste myself still on his tongue as the material of his jeans rubs against my sensitive bud. His fingers pinch my nipples as he slips his tongue between my lips. I reach down and feel his throbbing cock through his pants. As I rub with the palm of my hand, throaty moans leave his mouth. Nothing was stronger than my desire to be fucked raw by this sex god. I pulled away from the kiss and say as I stare deep into his eyes “Fuck me Chris.” My words are efficacious to him. 
He licked his lips like an animal locked onto his prey. “Don’t have to ask me twice.” He pulls down his jeans and takes his cock out of his boxers. I have seen a dick before but never that big. My mouth almost dropped to the floor. He pulled a condom out of the back of the seat and wrapped it around his cock. He pumped his dick a few times before running the head along my sodden folds. “You ready?” I had never been more ready for anything in my entire life. Unable to form words I nodded my head. Chris pushes his cock into me slowly. I gasped at the feeling. I wasn’t as tight as I usually was but it still stung. Each inch stung a little more until he bottomed out into me. He stilled. His breath was hot on my ear as our breathing synced. I gasped again as he pulled his hips back. I reached down and pulled him back into me. 
“Don’t hold back.” I said. I wanted this to be as enjoyable for him as it was for me. Chris pulled out and thrust back into me again. The groans that left this throat made my pussy clench around him. He picks up his pace and pain turns into pleasure. My legs wrap around his thighs and I’m pulling him into me. 
“You dirty little slut. So needy.” He whispered into my ear. The sound that escaped my lips drew him deeper in like a moth to a flame. Chris drives his cock into me faster so that all you can hear is breathy moans and the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin. Chris moves his hand to my throat and squeezes. I try to moan but they catch in my throat and I look back at Chris. His mouth is agape and he is staring deep into my eyes. He thrusts so deep my eyes roll back and I have to shut them. He grabs my chin and pulls my face to meet his. “Look at me. Don’t look away. I want to see your face as I make you cum on my dick.” His cock is hitting places he didn’t even reach when fingering me. Another orgasm rips through me and my body trembles harder this time. Chris fucks me through my orgasm and just as I regained my mental awareness I could feel another one coming on. Chris squeezes harder on my neck as he sucks on my hardened nipples. He bites my skin and takes his hand from my neck and reaches between our sweaty writhing bodies and pinches my clit. A guttural moan leaves my throat as another excruciatingly intense orgasm takes over my entire body. I can tell Chris isn’t far behind because his thrusts become sporadic and he puts all his body weight into his last thrust and stills. The noises he makes me wish he was still fucking me. He leans down to meet my lips once again but this time it is slower and more gingerly. He pulls his dick out and lays down on top of me. 
We catch our breaths and I say. “Wow, that was.. fuck.”
Chris softly laughs and says “Who knew a 17 year old could have me in the palm of their hand.” 
“Who knew a however-old-you-are would take my virginity.” I say with a smile on my face.
“I’m 20, I probably should have told you earlier.” He says looking a little guilty.
“Don’t worry it would have only turned me on more.” I laugh back and our lips join in a soft kiss. 
Chris and I look at the dashboard and see it's 1:30 am. “Shit I should probably get home before my friend worries too much.” I say looking back at Chris and he nods. We sit up and reach down for our clothes. I reach for my underwear and Chris snatches it from my hands.
“These are mine now.” Chris smirks.
“Fine.” I put on my shorts and pull my top back on. Sadly Chris covers his humongous biceps with his shirt. I lean in and meet Chris with a kiss. We get back into our respective seats and Chris looks at me with a dumb smile.
“Why are you staring at me?” I say with a giggle.
“Oh, nothing.” Chris says and his smile only looks more like a 6 year old who just stole a cookie before dinner. I mean technically he did just steal something but that's beside the point. Chris puts the car back into drive and turns around to back up. 
As he drives me home there's more small talk but then he asks “How long will you be in town?” 
“A week,” I say. Chris’s dumb smile returns. “Okay, what's that smile for?” 
Chris looks at me and says “I’m just excited to fuck you every night this week.” 
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
Text
Filterless
Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)
Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing
Genre:  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.
Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤
If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.
Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.
Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.
Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult. 
With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.
Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.
I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.
This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.
We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better. 
And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.
Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.
You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.
It’s like a constant slap to the face. 
That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions. 
Like the one I made two days ago.
Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery. 
Wait, hold up, it gets worse. 
I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.
As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:
“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“
I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that. 
Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.
I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.
I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.
I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.
I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.
You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?
I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.
I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance.  I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.
“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“
Because I’m not
I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.
And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.
With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.
In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.
I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’
A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.
Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.
“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“
My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.
Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?
It sure is, it sure is.
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1kook · 4 years
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netflix & chill
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summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!
will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta​ for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺
When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.
Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.
According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.
The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.
Namjoon is over the moon.
He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.
So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.
In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.
You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.
Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.
hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??
The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.
You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.  
You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.
You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.
Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.
cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??
You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.
Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?
Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?
You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.
It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.
Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.
Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.
Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.
You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)
——
Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.
You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.
You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.
Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.
You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.
Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.
It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.
He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.
“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.
“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.
“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.
“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.
All the while, you’re deep in thought.
It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.
He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.
Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.
You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.
“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.
Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.
Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.
You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.
You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.
Okay, you came here with two goals.
——
Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.
Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”
The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.
Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”
You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.
You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.
This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.
But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.
Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.
Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?
Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.
But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.
Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”
The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.
The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.
The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.
“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.
Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.
Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.
Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.
Yeah. Perfectly fine.
The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.
No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.
But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.
The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.
But the devil was right.
Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.
“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.
“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.
He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.
You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.
Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.
With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.
He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.
Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.
Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.
You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.
“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.
You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”
“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.
“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.
“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”
You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.
“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.
“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”
He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.
Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.
“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.
Finally, you see an opening and pounce.
“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.
Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.
“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.
“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.
“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.
You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.
He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.
“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.
“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”
You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.
You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,
He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.
You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.
“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.
You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.
It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.
The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.
And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.
When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.
Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.
It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.
But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?
Well, you had all night to figure that out.
“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”
You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.
Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.
You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.
He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.
As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”
You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.
At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.
If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.
Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”
Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.
If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.
He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.
His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.
“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.
“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.
Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.
Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”
Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.
“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.
He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.
After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.
You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.
Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.
He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.
You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.
The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.
“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.
Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.
Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.
To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.
His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.
You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.
“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”
You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.
“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.
He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.
“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”
You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.
But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.
This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.
“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.
His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.
Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.
“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.
“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.
“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”
“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.
Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”
You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.
The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.
A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.
Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.
——
“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.
Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.
He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.
“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”
You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.
After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.
“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”
It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”
It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.
He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.
——
On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.
“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.
Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”
You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.
“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.
Namjoon startles. “What the f—“
“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”
“What’re you doi—“
“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”
“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock. 
“Kids these days,” he huffs.
[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]
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egcdeath · 3 years
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welcome! before we begin, i want you to know some things about me:
my requests are currently open
i will write anything EXCEPT smut
you can join my taglist here!
now what you’re actually here for:
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soccer parent AU masterlist
one word prompt drabble masterlist
someone in the crowd - you and joel found your start as local musicians thirteen years ago, but ultimately drifted apart. after seeing him again, the two of you embark on a night of questionable decisions.
how the cookie crumbles - when you come back home to austin to help your sister with her bakery, you end up in an arrangement with your high school crush that ends up being far more than you bargained for.
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coming soon…
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coming soon…
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father-daughter dance - frankie has some concerns before his first father-daughter dance.
spontaneous proposal - after years of being together, frankie is finally ready to propose to you… except his proposal doesn’t exactly go as planned.
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love in bloom - every saturday morning jake brings you to the farmer’s market, and every saturday morning, you leave him a flower.
sunday kind of love - a glimpse into the best and most domestic day of the week for jake and the reader.
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devil’s advocate - life isn’t all that bad for a former black widow turned hit woman. that is, until you meet a certain pain in the ass vigilante.
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drabble masterlist
dad!steve masterlist
MULTI CHAPTERED
a blip in the reader-verse - a minor mistake causes a shift in the multiverse that only you have the capacity to fix. (mainly steve x reader, but future minor pairings will be added)
ONE SHOTS
unwinding - on valentine’s day, you receive a bit of a surprise. (tooth rotting fluff)
aunt flo - your monthly friend decides to visit you while staying over at steve’s. (fluff, many references to periods)
camper’s quarrel -  who would’ve guessed that a camping trip with your team and a man you couldn’t stand would go south so quickly? (that’s a rhetorical question.) (fluff, a little angst if you squint, enemies to lovers)
strangers again - [request] “hiiii sweetie!! can i request a steve x reader where he left yn for peggy. but he always felt guilty and missed yn. he would always stare at her pic. when he came back he bumped into yn while she was dropping a kid to daycare. and steve realized it was his son. kinda sad but fluff at the end pls!!!! and oh i super love your works!!! tysm 🌼🥺💕”
opposites attract - a villain!reader x steve rogers fic based off the song ‘ferrari’ by the neighborhood (fluff, angst, hurt/comfort)
likes repel - you finally find steve again, but things don’t go exactly how you expected them to. (part two to opposites attract)
act natural - sometimes, you just have to share the bed. (tooth rotting fluff, mutual pining)
tell your baby that i’m your baby - nothing good lasts forever, and your relationship with steve is no exception. (unrequited love, angst)
finders keepers - did captain america just steal your cat? (tooth rotting fluff)
second chances - you wake up on the side of the road with no memories, no posessions, and no place to go. luckily, an attractive stranger arrives just in time to help you out. (softdark)
in plain sight - steve makes your mission to pose as a married couple in the suburbs much easier than you expected. (tooth rotting fluff)
for old times’ sake - steve stands trial in the TVA. you are not pleased. (angst)
ways to say i love you without saying “i love you” - you and steve explore love languages. (fluff, a hint of angst)
hook, line, and sinker - steve was never meant to be anything more to you than a check, a basic mission. but somewhere along the way, things had veered from that. (angst, unhappy ending)
green eyed monster - a run in with your ex at a gala encourages everyone's green eyed monster to make an appearance. (minor angst, happy ending)
HEADCANONS
steve as a dad
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ONE SHOTS
secret santa -  (coffee shop au, enemies to lovers)
a date with destiny - fate brings you to a... questionable man more than a few times. (fluff, strangers to lovers)
cabin fever - when a nasty snow storm ruins your girls trip to a ski lodge, you have to... adapt to your interesting new roommate. (strangers to lovers, fluff)
DIY - if there’s one thing life has taught you. it’s that if you want something done right, you’ll do it yourself. (warning: dark!reader)
first impressions - [request] “hmm prompts… Ransom introducing you (a total opposite of him) to his family for the first time, or a Thrombey wedding! if you feel like it” 
an apple a day - it seems like an apple a day couldn’t keep the doctor or ransom away. (fluff, hurt/comfort)
checkmate - you’ve always refused to lose, and love was no exception. (gone girl au)
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ONE SHOTS
wrong place, wrong time - a drunken mishap leads you to reconcile with someone from your past. [based off this prompt]
your birthday with multiple characters
606 notes · View notes
berrynarrybanana · 4 years
Text
pink lemonade
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A/n: I...had a cliche moment of I wrote this and it got deleted bc my computer had a hissy fit while I was trying to find a good pic to use. All I want to say is that I spent weeks agonizing over this piece because I wasn’t sure that it was good enough and that it touched on bi!reader as much as it should. I started it out in Harry’s POV and it kind of just took off from there. This is very heavily based off a song from one of my favorite bands. It’s called pink lemonade by the wombats and it really gave me inspiration to write this whole fic and for my reader and flatmate!h. I hope that I did this justice, because as a bi woman, I know how little representation we get in media and in fics. So thank you to the beautiful @bopbopstyles and @harrysclementines for hosting a challenge that made me feel included. I really appreciate and love you both so much! 
warnings: smut, drug use mention, angst, harry’s pov
word count: 4.3k+
Please enjoy and feel free to tell me what you think! 
Friday Night 
Harry remembers the day he met his flatmate. 
She was a little shorter than him, but her personality definitely made her seem much taller. She had her hair up in a messy bun, her Rolling Stones shirt tucked in, and her jeans cuffed at the bottom. She introduced herself to him with a dazzling smile and a witty joke about being a stereotypical bisexual being. It made him laugh, pulling her into a hug (after asking her permission) because they were going to be flatmates and she needed to know he was a hugger. He didn’t want to start off on an awkward note with a person he would be spending so much time with. He suggested they order some pizza and drink wine on the floor of their living room on their first night. 
Their furniture hadn’t been delivered or moved in yet, so they had to settle for putting a few of y/n’s pillows under their bums while they watched comedy specials on Harry’s laptop. A majority of their evening was spent giggling and sharing stories about their previous experiences with old girlfriends. He found it oddly comforting that the beautiful girl was a little bit different, because he had always felt that way in life. With her, he didn’t feel so alone in being different. Perhaps that was one of the things that made him fall in love with her. She was a bright, radiant soul that brought him more joy than anyone else ever had. But she could be a bit thick, sometimes. 
As he watched her prance around their apartment in her tight mini-dress, he tried his best not to let her see his obvious attraction to her. 
The pillow on his lap would seem obvious to just about anyone else, but not to his precious flatmate. She practically floated through life, oblivious to how people looked at her when she moved. She was like a walking porn ad, her beautiful hair and gorgeous smile nearly impossible to ignore. He tried not to focus too hard on what she was wearing, but christ, it was hard not to. Her legs looked a little longer due to the black heeled booties she’d put on and she was most definitely wearing tights with little sparkles in the fabric. 
He hated seeing her dressed up like this, knowing that he wouldn’t be the one sliding his hands up her dress in the backseat of the taxi on the way home. He wouldn’t be the one gripping at her thighs while she straddled him on their shared couch. He wouldn’t be the one making her scream, unable to contain herself as he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of her. He hated that she was wearing the perfect shade of red on her lips, a shade that painted the walls of the prison cell in his own personal hell inside. He wanted to smear it off her lips with his own, kissing her until she was breathless and begging. 
Instead, he flipped through the channels on the telly, pretending to pay attention.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come out, Harry?” She stood in front of him, pouting her lips out as she tilted her head to the side. He shook his head as she crossed her arms, the gesture pushing her breasts up just a little. Fuck me, Harry thought. “You love going out!” 
“I know, love.” He grumbled, glancing behind her as if she was in the way. “But I’m not really in the mood to party tonight and I don’t want to bring the mood down.” 
“Well, I don’t feel right going out without you.” She sighed, dropping her arms to the side, causing Harry to look up at her. “Maybe I should stay home? We can order takeout and-” 
“Absolutely not.” He shook his head. “You have a date. You can’t stand him up!” 
“He’s just some rando from Tinder, I really don’t care about his feelings.,H.” She snorted out a laugh, rolling those perfect eyes as he tried to fight off a smile. “I’d rather be with you if you’re feeling down.”
“Don’t give up the chance for a good time because I’m a grumpy old man.” He shook his head. “I really want you to go out.” 
“Okay, okay.” She let out a heavy exhale, stepping farther away. “How do I look?” 
“Perfect.” He didn’t tear his eyes away from the telly, knowing he would overshare if he actually looked at her right now. 
“You didn’t even look!” She laughed around a playful groan. “Boys.” 
“I’m a man, love!” He called out as she walked into the kitchen for her keys. “If you’re too drunk, call me. Don’t go home with your random tinder date and-” 
“Lock the door when I’m home.” She nodded. “I know the rules, dad.” 
“Please do not ever call me that again.” Harry narrowed his eyes at her. “Go, get out of here and go have some fun. Tell everyone I said hi.” 
“I will!” She smiled. “Bye, roomie!” 
“Bye!” He waved, his heart sinking as the door shut behind her. “Guess I’ll be having a sad wank about that later.” 
Harry grumbled, sinking further into the cushions of their shared couch. 
                                   ******************************************
Saturday Morning 
The guy from Friday seemed to be a keeper. 
He was there the next morning when Harry was making a hangover breakfast in the kitchen for his flatmate. He strutted  in without a shirt or a word, reaching for a coffee cup as if he owned the place. Last time Harry checked, only two people paid rent here. Harry watched from the stove, spatula in hand as he glared at the man’s back. What a sodding prick. With a quick roll of his eyes, Harry pushed around the potatoes he’d chopped up earlier. Of course she brought him home. It had been weeks since she’d had a proper shag and it was bound to happen sooner or later. And even if Harry hated to admit it, the man standing in his kitchen gave it to her proper. Harry closed his eyes, cringing at memory of her moans melded with the banging of her headboard against the wall last night.
He hadn’t heard her moan out like that in a long time. Halfway through orgasm number two out of god knows how many, Harry shoved his headphones in and tried not to cry. He hated that someone else was making her feel so good that she was screaming the bloody walls down. He wanted to sink into her, to have her screaming out his name instead. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not even in his dreams could he have her, always cutting off right around the time his hands landed on her hips. 
“Oh, didn’t see you there, mate.” The guy turned around. “M’Alfie.” 
“Harry.” He grumbled, reaching up to the heat down. “Y/N’s roommate.” 
“She told me about you.” Alfie nodded. “Said you’re a right laugh when you’re drinking.” 
“Did she now?” Harry hummed as if he was actually interested in the conversation. 
“Shame you didn’t come out with us.” Alfie said. “Y/N was a fucking animal. Have you ever had sex with her? I mean she’s amazing when she’s high.” 
Harry wanted to vomit. 
This guy was a total prick.
“Yeah, what a shame.” Harry cleared his throat, glancing over at Alfie. “When Y/N wakes up, let her know that breakfast is here. She’s going to want two pieces of toast with butter.” 
“I will tell her.” Alfie sipped out of the bright pink mug and Harry’s face grew hot. That was his mug, the one that Y/N got him for Christmas last year. The little lamb on the front with a comical smile was mocking him now. “You alright, mate?” 
“Yeah, I’m stellar.” 
Harry stormed out of the kitchen and down the hall. 
He nearly made it to his door when she stumbled out of her bedroom. 
“Morning, Harry.” She yawned before smiling at her roommate. 
He didn’t respond, ducking past her and into his bedroom. 
Maybe he didn’t really know the girl he loved after all. 
                                            *******************************
Another Magical Friday Night 
Alfie, as it turns out, wasn’t a keeper. 
During their second escapade, Alfie shouting to the top of his lungs pulled Harry out of his half-asleep state. His heart sank and his blood ran cold as he sprinted out of his bedroom to Y/N’s. When he got there, Alfie was storming out of her bedroom, half dressed with a red face. Harry stood in Y/N’s doorway, avoiding her gaze as she struggled to put a t-shirt on. After a few moments, Harry couldn’t stand to hear her soft whimpers and loud sniffles. He tore his own shirt off, walking over to where she was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed in front of her. 
“S’alright,” He cooed, sitting down in front of her as he slipped his shirt over her head. “It’s okay, love.” 
“I’m sorry we woke you up.” She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to the column of his throat as she cried. “I know you have an early yoga class tomorrow.” 
“Please don’t apologize.” He said softly, rubbing his hand over her back. “Tell me what he did?” 
“He didn’t do anything.” She shook her head, pulling back as she wiped at her cheeks. “I just...Alfie dabbles a bit in drugs and I tried some with him last week, but I didn’t like it. I told him I didn’t want to do it again and he called me a whore and a tease.” 
Harry’s jaw tensed as he watched his best friend hiccup, swiping under her eyes again. 
“You are not a whore.” Harry reached up, gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger, demanding her attention. “Don’t ever let anyone make you feel like you need to be ashamed of yourself.” 
“Thank you.” She sniffled. “Sleep with me tonight?” 
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Let’s go to my room instead, okay?” 
He didn’t have the heart to tell her he couldn’t sleep in her bed right now. 
Not after Alfie had been in it. 
“Okay.” She gave him a wavering smile. “Thank you, H.” 
“Anytime.” 
Harry held her that night, his heart pounding against his chest as she cuddled into him. 
As he drifted off, he mumbled out loud, “This must be what heaven feels like.” 
He hoped she didn’t hear him. 
                                            ****************************
Harry decided that if Y/N was going out this Friday, he was too.
He couldn’t stand the thought of her going out without him by her side after last week’s incident with Alfie. There was no Tinder date for her to meet up with, just Harry and a few other friends who wanted to have a good time. They got ready in their shared bathroom together, pre-gaming with whatever they had left as they sang loudly to Harry’s pre-game playlist. When she spritzed her perfume over her neck, Harry’s mouth started to water. 
The warm vanilla and citrus hybrid was damn near a love potion to him. 
“Alright,” She nodded, giving herself a once over in the mirror. “I’m ready.” 
“You look perfect.” He smiled, trailing his eyes up from her vegan, leather combat boots to her black skinny jeans, finally settling on the lacy bodysuit that she had recently purchased. “S’a bit like lingerie, innit it?” 
“Yeah.” She shrugged her shoulders, pursuing her lips as Harry looked at her eyes. “But it’s nice and light and extremely sexy.” 
“One of those nights?” Harry’s brows quirked up and he forced a little smirk to settle on his lips as she nodded. “Good, you deserve a bit of fun.” 
And he actually meant it, this time. 
She did deserve to have a little fun after Alfie
He could suck it up for one night if the girl he loved would be happy at the end of it. 
“I do.” She giggled, reaching down to grab the bottle of tequila set on the bathroom countertop, wiggling it around. “One more shot for good luck?”
“Pour it up.” 
                                         *****************************
Harry bucked his hips up as the girl above him rolled her hips over his denim clad cock. 
This time, he brought someone home. 
Granted, Y/N brought someone home as well, he now had a distraction to keep his mind busy and his cock wet while his flatmate got off. The girl he’d met at the club was so sweet, her hazel eyes enticing him the moment his gaze met hers. Her lips were so soft and they tasted like strawberries. He wondered what Y/N tasted like? They were normally covered in gloss when she went out, shiny and peachy. Did her lips taste like peach? Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as the girl dug her nails into his stomach. 
“Can I take your pants off?” She asked, timid and soft. Nothing like Y/N demanding the naughtiest of things on the other side of the wall. “I’m ready to...I want to ride you.” 
“Okay, yeah.” Harry opened his eyes, sitting up as he wrapped his arms around her. He pressed a few soft kisses over her jaw before catching her mouth in his. “Just a second, love.”
“You’re sweet.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, swinging her leg over his thighs as he reached for his buttons. 
“Fuck, yes!” 
Harry rolled his eyes, fumbling with the zipper on his trousers as the girl next to him slapped her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. 
“She’s loud.” She giggled, reaching down to start working on her heels. 
“I know.” Harry sighed. “I’m really sorry about that. I...I didn’t know she would be bringing someone-” 
“Right there, y/n! Yes baby yes!” 
“Jesus.” He let out a huff, reaching his hand up to tap the wall with his fist. “Oi, other people are trying to have fun here.” 
“Oh my god.” The girl tossed her head back, barking out a laugh. “You don’t have to do that, it’s fine.” 
“Sorry, H.” Y/N called back. “We’ll keep it down.” 
“I just don’t want to ruin the mood for us.” He shuffled out of his jeans and boxers, tossing them to the side before he looked back at her. 
“I’m okay.” She climbed on top of him again, her shoes now tossed aside and her dress hiked up to her hips. “I really, really don’t care about anything else but fucking you right now.” 
“Oh.” Harry’s cheeks were surely tinged pink as she gripped his cock in her hand, stroking up with gentle movements. “Fuck, that’s nice.” 
“Good.” She leaned forward, pressing her free hand to his shoulder. He fell back onto the mattress, dropping his hands to her thighs. “I promise I’m gonna make you cum so hard, you won’t even know there’s anyone else in the world besides me.” 
Harry dropped his head back, digging his nails into her thighs as she lined herself up with his cock. It had been so long since he’d fucked anyone, his emotions for Y/N a huge cock-block that he couldn’t seem to shake. Other girls just didn’t do it for him anymore.  But tonight, the alcohol in his veins and the vision of Y/N nearly fingering some girl in the back of the club reminded him that he was free to fuck whoever he wanted, despite his love for Y/N.
“Y/N!” 
Harry let out a heavy sigh through his nose, the sound of Y/N’s one night stand screaming making the fire in his belly dim just a little. He didn’t even care that his own girl was sinking onto his cock, soaking wet and tight like a vice. He barely even remembered that she was on top of him until she moaned his name out. 
He opened his eyes, watching her face contort as she settled onto his thighs. 
“You’re huge.” She whispered, tilting her head back. “I swear I’ve never had...never had someone so big, fuck.” 
“Yeah?” He licked over his bottom lip, sliding a palm up to her belly. “Feel me there?” 
“Mhm.” She whimpered, gripping onto his wrist. “M’so full.”
“Y/N, please let me cum.” 
Harry let out a frustrated sigh, reaching his hands up to rub over his face. 
“Are they bothering you?” The girl asked softly, lifting off of his cock. “Because it seems like they are.” 
“A little, yeah.” Harry nodded, wincing as his cock slapped against his stomach. “I’m really sorry, it’s not that you aren’t amazing-” 
“I get it, it’s okay.” She fell next to him as his cock started to soften. “I would be kind of wigged out if my roommate was fucking while I was too.” 
“She does this every Friday night.” Harry said. “And...not to continue ruining whatever we had going between us, but I’m kind of in love with her.” 
“Oh.” The girl whispered. “That would really turn me off.” 
“Yeah.” He nodded. “And I was trying to have fun for once, you know? Because she seems to go about life oblivious to my feelings and I’m stuck pining for her while she’s fucking whoever she wants to.” 
“Do you think she knows that you like her?” His date asked. 
“I don’t know, probably not.” He mumbled, turning his head to look at her. “You don’t have to listen to me moan on about it, I’m sorry.” 
“No, it’s okay.” She turned on her side, pressing her palm to his chest. “I have a feeling you haven’t talked to anyone about this and it’s not very healthy to keep things bottled up.”
“You’re right about that.” Harry smiled. “You know, I have a friend who would absolutely adore you.” 
“Is it Y/N?” She giggled. “Because I don’t swing that way.” 
“Oi, you think I’d let you shag the girl I just told you I’m in love with?” He laughed, his brows crinkling together as he reached over to pinch her hip. “It’s not her.” 
“Good.” She laughed with Harry, sliding closer to him. “Would it be weird if I stay?” 
“No,” He shook his head. “It’s the least I can do after wasting your time.” 
“And...what about a cuddle?” She asked. “Because I do enjoy a good cuddle session.” 
“I can deal with that, I think.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. “Thank you.” 
                                           *****************************
The next morning, Harry was livid. 
He sent his date, Halle was her name, off with a sweet kiss and a coffee to-go. Maybe in another life, she would have been perfect for him. A soft, sweet girl with kind eyes and a willingness to listen to him. Unfortunately for him, he was too far up his obnoxious flatmate’s ass to see anyone else. And even if it made things awkward between them, he had to tell her how he felt. There was no way he could keep going on like this if there was a way to prevent it. 
“Good morning,” She chirped, her hand linked with the girl she brought home last night. “Are we having breakfast?” 
“You can do whatever the fuck you want.” Harry snapped, taking his coffee mug and his breakfast plate from the counter. “I don’t care.” 
Y/N’s jaw dropped and the girl’s eyes grew wide. 
Harry didn’t say another word, walking past the two girls.
He hated being a dick, but lashing out made him feel the tiniest bit better about what happened last night. He pushed his bedroom door open with his hip, settling back into bed as he flicked through his options on Netflix. He wasn’t even thinking of Y/N, his mind struggling to remember whether or not he’d seen the last episode of the Great British Bake-Off. When he realized that he hadn’t, clicking on the title to start the episode, his bedroom door flew open and his roommate stormed in. 
“Fuck you!” She snapped, reaching for his remote, standing in front of his bed with a scowl on her perfect lips. “I don’t know who pissed in your cheerios this morning, but you don’t get to talk to me like that! Especially not in front of guests.” 
“Okay.” Harry shrugged. “Can I have my remote-” 
“No, you can’t!” She shouted, tossing her hands up as she let out a noise crossed between a groan and a growl. “What’s your deal?” 
“I haven’t exactly finished my coffee, love.” Harry was trying not to relish in the sight of his roommate frustrated and adorable. The feeling she was experiencing now was a fraction of what he felt every time he heard her through the wall. “Maybe come back later?” 
“Are you upset because I fucked someone last night and you didn’t?” Her brows shot up. “I know you didn’t cum last night and neither did the girl you brought home. Are you mad because you’re shit in bed?” 
“Maybe we were quiet. You know, decent and considerate of other people,” The smile he gave her was sarcastic. “Or maybe- and this is a good one- maybe, I had a girl sitting on my cock, ready to fuck me so bloody good I would cry, but I couldn’t let her because all I could think about was how much I love you. ” 
“What?” She asked, her mouth falling ajar. 
“Maybe when I was kissing her at the club, I was thinking about kissing you.” He set his coffee mug down on his nightstand, continuing on. “And maybe when I had my fingers in her cunt, I was thinking about you. And maybe, just maybe, every time you fuck someone so loud that it keeps me up at night, I wish it was me instead.” 
She didn’t say anything, watching as Harry moved forward. He snagged the remote from her hand, proud of his little confession. He turned the show back on, ignoring his roommate as she stood there with her eyes wide. He smirked, crossing his legs before he settled his hand on his stomach. 
“You process that and I’m just gonna watch Noel and Paul bicker.” Harry said. 
“You’re an asshole.” She whispered. “You...you can’t just be upset with me because I didn’t know that you liked me.” 
“I’m not upset with you,” He said. “I’m a little upset that I was trying to have a good time for once and you ruined it with you and your girl’s pornstar moaning, but I’m not upset with you. That would be extremely unfair of me.” 
“Why have you never said anything?” She cleared her throat, fidgeting with the hem of her oversized shirt. “We’ve been roommates for years, Harry.” 
“Because I love you as a friend, too.” He started. “I didn’t want to risk it.” 
“And now?” She squeaked out. “You’re willing to risk it now?” 
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’m tired of wishing that it was me on the other side of this wall, Y/N. So...take some time to think about what I said and let me know if you’d be willing to give it a try. No hard feelings if you don’t want the same thing, I completely understand and I’ll respect your choice either way. We’ll just have to work out some arrangement where you let me know when you have someone-” 
“I want to try.” She said quickly, kneeling on the edge of the bed. “Because I really like you, Harry. Like, the only reason I’ve brought so many people back home with me is because I couldn’t have you. I knew that there was no way in hell you would like a girl like me. I’m obnoxious and boisterous and just...I didn’t think I was your type.” 
“You’re kidding?” His brows shot up. “You thought...oh my god, we’re both bloody idiots.” 
“You’re telling me.” She laughed, falling on her ass in front of him. “This whole time I’ve been fucking people that loudly to make you jealous and the entire time you’ve been listening, imaging it was you?” 
“I guess so.” He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Well, I guess that leaves us with two options.” 
“And what might those be?” She asked, a soft smile settling on her lips. 
“I take you out for brunch, maybe a nice walk in the park, and then I bring you home and fuck you so hard you won’t even remember the orgasms you had last night.” He lifted one finger up, smiling as he watched her inhale sharply. “Or option two, I fuck you now and we go to brunch later?” 
“Wouldn’t it just be lunch by then?” She tilted her head to the side, playfully narrowing her eyes at him. “I mean...that defeats the purpose, yeah?” 
“Really, that’s-” Harry let out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re missing the point.” 
“I’m not.” She leaned forward, sliding her hands over his thighs. “I see it clear as day.” 
“And what does your heart tell you to do?” He licked over his bottom lip as she moved closer, her nose nearly bumping against his. 
“To take you up on option two.” She whispered. “Because it’s really not fair that I came five times last night and you didn’t come, not even once.” 
“Fuck.” Harry sputtered out as she brushed her lips over his. “Kiss me?” 
She pressed her lips into his, moving his body back onto his pillows. She moved over him, straddling his thighs as she deepened the kiss. When her tongue slipped over his bottom lip, his mouth fell open in response. His hands fell to her hips, digging into the soft flesh as his mind tried to catch up. The girl of his dreams was sitting on his lap, in his bed, and she wanted him. She wanted him just as bad as he wanted her. He couldn’t believe that this was happening, sure that he was just a fever dream or a nightmare that he would wake up from any second. But he was brought back to reality when her tongue slipped over his. 
And at that moment, Harry knew he was right. 
She did taste like peach. 
541 notes · View notes
ariavederci · 2 years
Note
ur turn !! superbuddies for the ask game <3
I'm very bad at checking my asks so this is extremely late, sorry, Mina! I very much ship the superbuds, of course 😌.
What made you ship it?
I think I primarily started shipping them when they first showed up in McStrome fic? I thought it was incredibly cute (and also unhinged) that Mikey asked GM Ray Shero to draft Nate. I don't think I went HARD for them until "what a run we had tho" and then I went absolutely batshit when "NJ claims Bastian" happened.
I think, when it comes down to it, my favourite thing about them is just how fucking weird and in love they are with each other? Like, Mika Zibanejad and Chris Kreider are in love and beautiful, but Mikey and Nate? They're WEIRD and also in love. Like has any other hockey talked for three minutes straight about their best friend's extra tooth? Yeah, I didn't think so. That's love, babey.
What are your favorite things about the ship?
In no particular order:
Mikey "loves to be free" McLeod
Nate "let me show off my boyfriend's abs and his yellow shorts" Bastian
Nate's mic'd up
The "friendship" feature
That hot tub pic that will HAUNT ME FOR YEARS
Listening to Nate's interviews about Seattle and replacing New Jersey with Mikey
Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?
I think "unpopular" is perhaps taking it tew far, but I think sometimes Mikey's characterization in fic is entirely based on how we think Nate sees him, whether or not the fic is from Nate's POV? I know of the two of them, Mikey's the unknowable one, so I get totally get it! I think it would be interesting, though, to see other takes of Mikey based on the material we have so far!
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