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junghelioseok · 4 years

Text

clandestine. | 04

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 6.5k [4/6]

notes: we finally have a set chapter count! did this fic really need to be 6 chapters? absolutely not, but here we are! i’m hoping to have this fella finished up in the next month or so, but we’ll see how that goes given my track record. happy new year, everyone!

warnings: a little underedited bc i’m lazy, shower sex!!! mild? exhibitionist tendencies??? reader is dumb and jungkook is slutty, but what else is new 🤷🏻‍♀️

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

“I swear to god, I am going to amputate your arm with a rusty hacksaw if you elbow me one more time.”

Undeterred, your brother prods you again, pouting at you from his spot in the driver’s seat. “I just want another chip, Noona. Don’t be so mean.”

“Are you a baby bird?” you ask in disbelief, gaping at the way he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue. “Seriously, I’m not feeding you. Get your own chips if you want them so badly.”

“But I’ve gotta keep both hands on the wheel,” he replies cheekily. “Ten and two positions, at all times.”

You frown. “Didn’t they change it to nine and three?” Nonetheless, you reluctantly reach into the bag in your lap, pulling out a potato chip and delivering it to his waiting mouth. “Next one’s going straight into your nose,” you warn as he happily crunches down on the snack.

Jimin simply offers you a beatific grin in between chews. “Love you too.”

“Nope, I changed my mind. Next one’s going up your ass.”

Your brother has long since grown used to your threats. “Kinky,” he chuckles as he merges smoothly into the next lane over. The song on the radio shifts into something more upbeat, and Jungkook is quick to start humming along under his breath from his spot in the seat behind you. Within minutes, it’s morphed into a singalong, and the offkey warbling of all seven passengers—no matter how dissonant—is a perfect soundtrack for the remainder of the drive.

The beach, when you arrive, is awash with tourists and locals alike, all clamoring to lay claim to a prime stretch of sand and a decent parking space. Jimin manages to snag a spot just as someone else is pulling out, and the rest of you are quick to disembark and scope out the beach for somewhere to set up camp. Plopping your bag down onto the sand, you rifle through it until you find your sunscreen, mentally patting yourself on the back for buying the spray instead of the cream.

“Can I borrow that when you’re done, Noona?” Taehyung asks, watching you wrench off the cap.

You nod, squinting against the sunlight. “Sure. As long as you help me get my entire back.”

“Deal.”

Flashing him a grateful smile, you shimmy out of your shorts and begin applying sunscreen to your arms and legs. Taehyung peels off his t-shirt, and you spray him down too, making sure to coat his entire back before he takes the bottle and does the same to you.

“I might have gone a little overboard,” he admits once he’s done, capping the bottle and tossing it back into your bag. Warm hands settle onto your exposed shoulder blades, deft fingertips rubbing the excess product into your skin. “There, that should do it. All better.”

“Thanks, Tae.” You turn around and reach out, wiping at a stray fleck of the white lotion on his bicep. “You’ve got a little bit here too, hang on—“

“Mind if I borrow this?”

You turn at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. The dark-haired young man is standing there with your sunscreen in hand, his gaze zeroed in on the way your fingertips linger on Taehyung’s bare skin. Awkwardly, you pull away and nod, hoping that neither of them can hear your heart pounding erratically against your ribcage.

“Yeah. Sure. It’s all yours.”

Jungkook grabs his white t-shirt by the collar, tugging it up and over his head in one smooth motion, and you swallow at the way his taut abdomen flexes as he tosses it aside. “You’ll help me get my back too, won’t you, Noona?”

You nod, moving before he can even finish his sentence. Your feet carry you across the sandy ground on autopilot, and Jungkook exhales audibly as your palms smooth along the golden expanse of his muscular back, dipping down to the waistband of his black swim trunks. Ever since his visit to your bedroom last night, you’ve been itching to touch him—to feel every last inch of him. It’s impossible with your watchful brother and group of nosy friends hovering around though, so you settle for this—rubbing sunscreen into his warm skin while he sprays down his arms and legs.

“Thanks, princess,” he murmurs once you’re done, soft enough so that only you can hear and raising gooseflesh on the back of your neck. “Maybe next time, you’ll let me repay the favor.”

Then Yugyeom is calling his name, and Jungkook sprints down to the shoreline to join his friend in the crashing surf, his face creasing with laughter. Each time he emerges from the waves, droplets cling to his skin like glistening diamonds in the sunlight. It’s impossible to look away from the sight, and your tongue darts out to moisten your lips as you watch water drip off his hair and down his nape, pooling in his collarbones before he shakes his head like a dog and sends it spraying in all directions.

All that sunscreen is going to waste, a tiny voice in your head points out, but it’s hard to worry about that when you’re too busy following the path of the water streaming down past his dusky nipples to the ridges of his abdomen. And it’s almost as if he feels your gaze on him, because he’s suddenly staring right back at you, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips.

“Come on, Noona,” he calls, raking a hand through his drenched hair. “The water’s fine. Don’t make me drag you in.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you call back, immediately regretting it when something equal parts mischievous and dangerous flashes across his face. There’s a glint in his eye that wasn’t there before, and you back away nervously as he emerges from the waves and saunters toward you. “Jungkook—”

“Yes?” he asks, his voice dropping down into a low purr. “What is it, princess?”

You edge around the towel that you’ve laid out in the sand, as if such a flimsy barrier could stop him in any way. “Just—just don’t dunk me under,” you plead.

Jungkook looks genuinely offended by that. “I would never,” he says, laying a hand over his heart and grabbing yours with his free one. “Now come on—let’s get you wet.”

You groan at the innuendo and try to tug free from his grip, but Jungkook only tightens his grasp, cackling the whole way down to the water.

///

The sun is just beginning to set, streaking the blue sky through with wispy strands of orange and gold, when Jimin raises his hand and declares it dinner time. For the past two hours, you’ve all been engrossed in a very tight three-on-three volleyball match with Jimin serving as referee, and upon hearing your brother’s declaration, Minho looks about ready to chuck the ball into the ocean.

“Dude, are you fucking serious? We’re literally two points from winning!” He gestures wildly at an invisible scoreboard only he can see. “No way we’re stopping here. I refuse on principle.”

“Yeah, I wanna see who the real winner is, too,” Jungkook drawls from the other end of the court, where he’s flanked on either side by Taehyung and Yugyeom. “I mean, we’ve been leading for most of the tournament, so…”

Minho scowls. “And we’re about to win the whole damn thing. Just you wait, Jeon.”

Behind him, you and Taemin exchange helpless glances. It isn’t the first time you’ve seen Jungkook and Minho squabble over the years, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. Both possess a razor sharp competitive streak and a certain pigheadedness that only emerges when it comes to athletic endeavors, and luckily, your brother knows this just as well as you do. Heaving a sigh, Jimin wearily gestures for them to continue, resuming his post at the end of the net. “Fine, fine,” he mutters. “Next point wins.”

On the other side of the net, Jungkook’s eyes narrow. “I’m good with that if you are.”

“Oh, I’m good,” Minho retorts. “It’s our serve. You ready?”

Jungkook smirks. “Bring it on.”

Minho cracks his knuckles and tosses the ball over to you for the serve. “All right then, let’s fucking do this.”

You sigh. Taking a deep breath, you heft up the ball, testing its weight before hitting it smoothly over the net. Yugyeom jumps up to intercept, batting it back over to your side, and Minho attempts to spike it back and into the sand. Unfortunately, Jungkook is too quick, and dives down to bump it back over to you. The back and forth continues like this for a while—you see Jimin boredly scrolling on his phone out of the corner of your eye—and you’re strongly considering calling it quits when Jungkook smashes the ball over the net and into the ground right at Minho’s feet.

“And that’s game,” he declares proudly, raking his sweaty hair off his forehead with a triumphant grin.

“Are you finally done?” Jimin asks, rolling his eyes and pocketing his phone. “Thank god. Can we eat now?”

Jungkook claps him on the back in affirmation, ignoring Minho’s loud, adamant protests that your team still technically won. Together, you head back to where your towels and bags sit in the sand, grabbing bottles of chilled water out of the cooler and fishing for snacks. Jimin pulls a package of hot dogs out while Taehyung rips open a bag of chips, and you follow their lead and grab the hamburger patties and buns. “Huh, I swear I bought ketchup,” you mumble to yourself as you rummage through the half-melted ice in the cooler. “Is it not in here?”

“I have it.” Jungkook materializes at your side, proffering the little red bottle. He’s pulled his white t-shirt back on, the material a stark contrast to his tanned skin, and you silently rise to your feet to take it when a sudden wave of lightheadedness rushes over you and sends the world spinning.

“Whoa,” you gasp, swaying on your feet. “Oh, god.”

Jungkook frowns and drops the ketchup bottle, steadying you until most of your weight is leaned against him. “Noona? Are you okay?”

You swallow, hard, and try to shake the unexpected bout of dizziness away. “I don’t know. Got dizzy, all of a sudden. I think I might have stood up too fast?”

Gently, Jungkook presses the back of his hand against your forehead. “You feel pretty warm,” he murmurs. “Have you had enough water today?”

“I thought I drank plenty, but maybe not,” you admit, and he nods decisively and gestures for you to follow him.

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s grab some water and go somewhere quiet so you can rest. Minho isn’t going to shut up about that match anytime soon, and it’s cooler down by the water.”

You laugh weakly. “We did technically win, you know. We had one more point than you guys.”

“God, not you too,” Jungkook sighs, casting you a playful look over his shoulder as he digs two bottles of water out from the cooler. He uncaps one and hands it over before taking a swig out of his, and you take a grateful sip, relishing in the cool liquid that trickles down your throat.

Nearby, your brother and the rest of the boys have commandeered one of several firepits scattered around the edges of the beach. They’re piling up pieces of driftwood and some of the long, tall sea grass that Taehyung has found, and Jungkook waves at them as he slowly guides you toward the ocean with a hand on your back. “We’re gonna go find some more wood!” he calls, and Jimin raises a hand in acknowledgment before turning back to the firepit.

Water laps gently at your toes as you and Jungkook walk along the shore, washing away all traces of your footprints. The sun dips below the horizon at last, illuminating the sky in one last burst of red and orange and gold that slowly fades into deep purples and blues as night falls. The temperature dips as the moon ascends to her lofty throne, accompanied by a smattering of starry pinpricks. Most of the beachgoers have packed up and left by this point, and here, with nothing but Jungkook’s quiet, familiar presence and the lapping waves, you feel more at peace than you have in a long time.

“You know, I’m really glad I came this weekend,” you say softly, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you. Your gaze drops down to your toes, fixing your attention on a pearly white seashell that’s sticking out from the wet sand. “I think you were right—I really did need a break from everything.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t quite catch that,” Jungkook says, swirling his pinky in his ear. “Could you say it again? Something about me being right?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

Jungkook casts a quick look over his shoulder, and when you follow the trajectory of his gaze, you notice just how far you’ve gotten from the firepit where the others are sitting. Darkness has settled over the beach, the sand painted a wan silver from the light of the moon, and you flinch when Jungkook’s hand finds its way around yours.

“Jungkook—” you begin, but trail off when he twines your fingers together and gives your hand a squeeze.

“They can’t see us, Noona,” he murmurs. “Relax.”

Easier said than done, you want to say. Nevertheless, you suck in a deep breath and take another sip from your water bottle, trying to ignore the way Jungkook swings your interlocked hands between you as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Shouldn’t—shouldn’t we be trying to find more driftwood?” you ask after several long seconds have dragged by. “We need way more if we’re gonna keep the fire going.”

Jungkook hums softly and veers inland, until the sand beneath your feet is dry and starts sticking to your wet toes. You come across a few scattered pieces of wood, dried out by the sun, and tuck them beneath your arm. Likewise, Jungkook gathers a few pieces of his own, hefting them up before reaching out to take your hand once more. His fingers slot all too comfortably into the spaces between yours, and your heart stutters a few times in your chest before plunking down into your churning stomach.

Nighttime has well and truly settled over the beach by the time you and Jungkook start picking your way back over to rejoin the group around the firepit. You pull your hand out of Jungkook’s well before you reach the ring of orange light that the flames cast across the sand, your arm now swinging free at your side and your fingers cold from the loss of his warmth. Silently, you hasten your pace and plop down onto the towel that Jimin has spread out, stretching out your legs toward the fire and wiggling your toes.

“Where have you guys been?” Jimin asks curiously. “You just kinda wandered off.”

“Getting more driftwood,” you reply, gesturing at the small pile you’ve dropped at the edge of the towel. “We told you that’s where we were going.”

Jimin frowns for a few seconds before the memory resurfaces. “Oh, right. I forgot.”

Jungkook snorts and takes a seat beside you, dropping his stack of driftwood on top of yours. “Dumbass.”

“You’re a dumbass,” Jimin retorts.

“You’re both dumbasses,” you sigh.

The fire crackles merrily, sending orange sparks up into the velvety black sky. There’s a grill situated over the flames, loaded with hamburger patties and hot dogs, and you watch as Jimin tears open a bag of hot dog buns and begins to place them around the edges.

“Hey, can you throw me the hamburger buns?” he asks you. “I wanna try toasting them.”

“You’re gonna burn them,” you tell him flatly. Nonetheless, you locate the second bag and toss it over, watching as he makes more room on the grill.

Dinner is a loud, chaotic affair, filled with laughter and conversation and plenty of booze to go around. Jimin has procured a flask of whiskey from somewhere in his clothing—an impressive feat in and of itself, considering he’s only wearing swim trunks and a thin blue t-shirt. You wave him off when he offers you a sip, and he shrugs and throws back a generous swallow himself. Then he offers it to Jungkook, who shakes his head and raises his water bottle. “Designated driver,” he says. “I’m sticking to water tonight.”

Curiously, you glance over at him. “You don’t have to do that. I wasn’t planning on drinking, so I can drive us back.”

“With the way you were looking earlier?” Jungkook fixes you with a look of pure disbelief. “Not a chance. Besides, we’re going back to the real world tomorrow, and the last thing I need is to be hungover. I have to get us back home in one piece, not to mention the entire menu I still have to memorize for work.”

You hum. Jungkook has mentioned his new job a few times—a summer stint working as a server at a new restaurant opened by a family friend named Seokjin. “Right, I remember you saying that. You start on Monday, don’t you?”

“Dinner shift,” Jungkook confirms. “I stole a whole bunch of pens from Junghyun’s room the other day in preparation. Jin said I’d probably end up losing two-thirds of them by the end of the week.”

“That sounds about right,” you tell him with a laugh. “Some guy stole my favorite pen last summer when I was working at that diner on Main. Lesson learned, forever.”

Jungkook laughs. “Yeah, I bet.”

You grin. “But, hey, seriously. If you need me to quiz you on that menu, I’ve got time to spare.”

“Honestly, I might take you up on that offer. I have flash cards, and everything.” He uncaps his water bottle and takes a long sip, his throat bobbing with each swallow, before glancing back over at you. “What about you? You ready for your internship?”

You sigh and offer him a helpless little shrug. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready, to be honest. I don’t think I’m going to stop stressing about it until I get through my first day. The entire thing still doesn’t feel real.”

“I get that,” Jungkook hums. “Well, I can imagine it, at least. I won’t pretend to know exactly what you’re going through, since I’ve never had an adult job, but—“ He shrugs a shoulder halfheartedly. “I can kind of relate, I guess.”

“All jobs suck a little bit,” you tell him, and Jungkook lets out a derisive huff of agreement.

“I’ll drink to that,” he says, and the two of you tap your water bottles together before rejoining the conversation with the rest of your friends.

///

The drive back to the lake house is shorter than you remember it being—though that might be because you spend most of it watching Jungkook drive. He steers with one hand slung carelessly over the wheel, his expression relaxed as he sings along to whatever pop hit plays on the radio. Unloading the car is a team effort, though you hear no shortage of complaints from Jimin as he heaves the cooler over the threshold of the house before collapsing atop it in a pile of limp limbs.

“Thanks for leaving me to carry this thing by myself,” he snarks, not even bothering to raise his head. “Really appreciate it.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Taehyung scoffs, tossing a game console at him. “Have a beer and pick something to play. We’re waiting on you.”

You watch as your brother immediately hops up and darts over to join the rest of the boys lounging in the living room, fighting back the sudden wave of exhaustion that washes over you. “I think I’m going to head to bed,” you tell them, hiding a yawn behind your hand. “Goodnight, guys.”

A chorus of goodnights and see you in the mornings rings out in response, and you wave before heading down the hall to your room and into the adjoining bathroom. Your hair is crusty from being submerged in the salty water of the ocean, and a shower to rejuvenate your dehydrated skin is just what you need. Turning on the tap, you wait until it’s flowing warm before stripping out of your clothes and tossing them onto your bed to deal with later. Then you step into the shower and tilt your head back, letting the water stream down your face and soak into your hair.

You’re midway through squeezing a generous dollop of shampoo into your palm when there’s a soft knock on the door. “Noona?” Jungkook’s voice filters through the sound of rushing water, low and lilting like a song. “You left kinda fast. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

You cap the shampoo bottle and replace it on the shelf, peering out from behind the shower curtain. “I’m fine,” you call, hesitating before you steel your nerves and continue. “You can come in, if you want. I don’t like yelling through the door.”

Slowly, the bathroom door eases open, revealing Jungkook standing in his and Jimin’s shared bedroom. His brown eyes are wide as he takes in the sight before him, and you have no doubt that he’s thinking about just what the palm tree patterned curtain is hiding from his view. Your lip finds its way between your teeth when you notice him shuffle his feet awkwardly for a moment before stepping a little closer to where you’re standing beneath the spray, his mouth opening to speak.

“Join me?”

The invitation slips past your lips, unbidden, but you have no intention of taking it back. Not when Jungkook’s gaze darkens to obsidian at those two simple words, his mouth snapping shut and his hands already reaching for the hem of his white t-shirt. Not when he strips it off in one smooth motion to reveal all the dips and ridges of his abdomen, his skin golden even under the harsh fluorescent bathroom lights. And certainly not when he pulls aside the shower curtain and joins you beneath the spray, his dark eyes appreciatively raking up and down your bare figure.

“Hey,” he says, his voice a low purr.

“Hi,” you respond, reaching out and trailing a fingertip down his chest.

And then you’re dropping down to your knees, your tongue darting out to tease at the tip of his already rising cock. One hand finds its way to his balls while the other traces the line of his pelvic bone, and you smirk when you feel him let out a shuddery breath.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “Someone’s eager.”

You wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, humming, and Jungkook’s fingers fly into your dampened hair. “Oh, fuck. You’re really trying to kill me, huh, princess?” he asks, and you respond by taking a little more of him into your mouth, laving at the vein running along the underside of his length before hollowing your cheeks. Jungkook throws his head back, a deep groan escaping his parted lips, and you preen under his encouragement as he urges you to take him deeper.

You’ve just begun to settle into a rhythm—figuring out exactly how much pressure he likes and what makes his hips buck—when he suddenly pushes you away. “Jung—” you begin, only to have him silence you with a searing kiss, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you to your feet.

“Wanna fuck you properly,” he rasps. His hand finds its way between your legs, experimental fingers sliding through the wetness that’s gathered there, and your cheeks heat up when he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean. “Just let me go grab a condom,” he whispers urgently. “Don’t move a muscle, okay? I’ll be righ—”

You silence him with a hard kiss. “Don’t,” you mumble. “I’m clean. Are you?”

Jungkook nods slowly, his eyes wide. “Does that mean… I mean, are you…?”

“I’m on the pill,” you murmur. “Fuck me raw, Jungkook.”

A sharp gasp escapes you when Jungkook cages you against the cool tiled wall of the shower, the slick surface dampened by the spray from the showerhead. He grabs ahold of your thigh and hoists it up to wrap around his waist, and you’ve never been more thankful for the ugly fish patterned shower mat that your mom insisted on putting down to prevent slipping. Jungkook nestles into the newly created space between your legs, his cock hot and slick against your center, and you keen when he grinds against you in a slow, deliberate motion.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, his breath hot against your cheek. “Feel how hard you get me, Noona?”

“God, Jungkook,” you breathe back. “Just fuck me already, will you?”

His answering chuckle sends a shiver from your toes to your crown. “So needy,” he murmurs, his hand sliding from your thigh to your hip. His mouth seeks out yours as he positions the head of his cock at your entrance, meeting little resistance as he slowly begins pushing inside. Your walls part willingly for him and your lips do too—his questing tongue slipping inside when you moan and beginning his seemingly endless task of mapping out every corner of your mouth.

“God, I forgot how big you are,” you breathe when he bottoms out—the entirety of his hot, heavy length sheathed within your walls. Your head falls back against the tile as he rolls his hips experimentally, a moan that sounds vaguely like Jungkook’s name escaping your lips. Your arms come up to brace on his shoulders as he picks up his pace, but he intercepts one of your hands and twines your fingers together, settling them onto the wall just to the left of your head. His other hand returns to your thigh to keep you stable and spread out for his increasingly harsh thrusts, and you whimper helplessly in his ironclad grip.

“That’s it,” he whispers, groaning when you clench around him. “God, you’re so fucking tight, princess.”

“Fuck me open, then,” you moan back, squeezing his hand and meeting his next thrust with one of your own. Jungkook’s breathing stutters, and you laugh breathlessly at the way his mouth falls open at the spike of pleasure. Emboldened, you grind against him, the spray from the shower easing the movement. “Jungkook, please.”

He chuckles hoarsely. “Careful what you wish for,” he purrs against the shell of your ear, punctuating the warning with a harsh roll of his hips that sends all remaining thought flying out of your head. In this moment, there’s only Jungkook—his dark hair dampened and dripping, the spray from the showerhead slicking his chest and pooling in his clavicle before trailing down each ridge and dip of his honeyed skin. His lips find yours again, and you sigh into the kiss as he begins to fuck you in earnest.

“Hey, Jungkook! You in there?”

Your eyes fly open at the new voice, your body tensing when there are several loud bangs on the door. Jungkook freezes mid-thrust with an expression that can only be described as a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck, his throat bobbing nervously as he fights to find a response. You can practically see the gears whirring in his brain, and shove uselessly at his chest in an attempt to escape his steely embrace.

“That’s Jimin,” you hiss urgently, turning his face toward yours and prodding his cheek until his gaze refocuses. “What the fuck are we going to do?”

“Dude.” Jimin’s voice is laced with irritation. “I wanna brush my teeth! What the hell are you doing in there?”

Jungkook hesitates, glancing between you and the closed bathroom door. Then he inhales deeply, pressing a light kiss to your furrowed forehead before pulling the shower curtain closed, ensuring there are no gaps. “I got you,” he murmurs softly, his brown eyes boring into yours. “Don’t worry, okay?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the gentle pressure of his lips against your skin, but they fly open again when Jungkook breaks away and yells for Jimin to come in. Warm palms slide soothingly down your sides, but that doesn’t stop you from tensing up when the bathroom door creaks open, your brother’s soft footsteps approaching the flimsy palm tree patterned curtain.

“Have you been showering this whole time? Jeez. Leave some hot water for the rest of us, will you?”

Jungkook chuckles. Ever so slowly, he pushes forward until he’s fully seated inside you again, and you do your best to level a glare at him even as pleasure flares at the base of your spine. “There’s plenty to go around,” he says. “Relax.”

You get the distinct feeling that he’s not just addressing Jimin anymore. Jungkook pulls back until only the top of his cock remains nestled in your folds, and you open your mouth to berate him but all that comes out is a low moan when he sinks back inside you in one swift push.

On the other side of the curtain, you hear the faucet turn on. “Man, I can’t believe we leave tomorrow,” Jimin says over the sound of running water. “The weekend flew by.”

“Mmm,” Jungkook hums, brushing a thumb across your clit. The pace he’s set is slow and deep, and is made all the more sensual by the steam that’s steadily building up in the small room. You try once more to push him away—to quell the growing ache between your legs—but it’s all in vain as he chuckles softly into the crook of your neck, his bare shoulders quaking. “I got you, princess,” he murmurs, his voice a wicked little whisper that’s immediately lost in the spray of water. “Just let me take care of you, yeah?”

You don’t have a chance to answer. Jimin starts speaking again, this time accompanied by the sound of toothbrush bristles scrubbing against his teeth. “I’m starting up at the studio as soon as we get back—isn’t that crazy? I mean, I’ve never taught anyone how to dance before. Not really. Not for real.”

Jungkook snaps his hips up so sharply that you nearly mewl in surprise, forced to bite down into his meaty shoulder to muffle the noises that threaten to escape from your throat. “You’re a great tutor, man,” he says, his voice steady even as he resumes his slow, lazy thrusts, his cock dragging along your fluttering walls. “You’ve been helping people with math for, what, two years? What makes you think it’ll be any different with dancing?”

Jimin spits into the sink and sighs. “I don’t know. It’s scarier because there’ll be more people, I guess. Tutoring is one on one, y’know? And at the studio, I’ll have a full class of people watching me. Every single move I make, they’ll be looking at. That’s fucking terrifying to think about.”

Slowly, Jungkook’s hips still, his cock buried to the hilt in your cunt. Your heartbeat drums in your ears, backed by the relentless spray from the showerhead, and Jungkook leans down to plant a wet kiss on your cheek, his hair dripping.

“You’re a great dancer, Jimin,” he says once he’s pulled back and straightened back up to his full height. “Best one I know. You’re also one of the smartest people I know, but right now, you’re being really fucking dumb.”

There’s a clatter that sounds like a plastic toothbrush being dropped into the sink, and Jimin lets out an affronted squeak. “Hey!”

Jungkook just chuckles, his shoulders quaking. “It’s true,” he says easily. “Seriously, man. You don’t have a thing to worry about. You’re gonna kick ass out there, and your class is gonna be awesome. You’re already, what, almost maxed out on the number of registrants? You’re already killing it.”

Your brother lets out an unintelligible grumble on the other side of the shower curtain, but you can still hear the smile in his voice no matter how hard he tries to mask it. “All right, you fucking sap,” Jimin says at last, his soft footsteps padding toward the door. “Hurry up and get out of there, yeah? You’re really gonna use up all the hot water.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and you immediately smack Jungkook in the middle of his stupidly toned chest. “Oh my god!” you hiss. “Are you kidding me right now, Jeon? We could’ve been caught!”

“But we weren’t,” Jungkook replies easily, shaking his dampened hair out of his face and fixing you with an indolent little smirk. “So why don’t you be a good girl and cum for me now?”

///

The next morning brings with it a whirlwind of frenzied packing, and you mentally congratulate yourself for preemptively gathering all of your belongings together last night. Minho is wandering every last inch of the house with a piece of half-eaten toast dangling from his mouth, and you can hear Taehyung in the distance asking if anyone’s seen his strawberry body wash. Jungkook is seated on the floor near the front door, his brows furrowed and his lower lip jutting out in a pout as he fights to close the zipper of his suitcase.

“Got it!” he exclaims after a few seconds, triumphant. “Where’s your stuff, Noona? I’m gonna load the car.”

You begin to stand up from your spot on the couch. “It’s in my room, let me go get—”

Jungkook is on his feet and halfway down the hall before you can even finish your sentence. He returns a moment later with your luggage in tow, shooting you a grin and a wink as he passes by. “I got you, princess,” he murmurs. “Remember?”

Of course you do. You remember like it was yesterday—because, well, it was yesterday and you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. You remember the moment you shared at the beach and the way his hand felt so right wrapped around your own. You remember the way you’d dropped to your knees for him so readily in the shower last night. And you definitely remember the way he’d fucked you afterward—slow and deep in the best possible way, even with your brother’s untimely interruption.

After what feels like an eternity, both cars are finally packed and ready to go. You bid goodbye to the boys who are riding with Jimin, promising to stay in touch, before climbing into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s beat-up sedan. Jungkook himself is already lounging behind the wheel, his sunglasses perched low on his nose as he fiddles with his phone. He looks up at your entrance and flashes you a smile, tapping his screen a few more times before holding it up so you can see.

“I changed your contact photo,” he says. “Like it?”

You peer at his phone, and something in your chest clenches when you see the photo he’s selected. You’re on the beach beside the volleyball net, illuminated by the setting sun. The sky is streaked through with pink and orange behind you, but through some editing magic, Jungkook has made it so that you are glowing even brighter in the foreground—with laughter etched across your face and the wind in your hair. It’s a beautiful photograph, and you tell him so, unable to contain the dangerously warm affection blossoming in your chest.

“I love it,” you say. “I usually don’t like having my photo taken, but wow. You have a talent for this.”

Jungkook’s smile grows. “I have a pretty muse,” he replies, and your cheeks warm.

The door to the backseat opens with a bang, and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden sound. “Yo,” Yugyeom says, plopping down and buckling his seatbelt. “We ready to roll?”

Jungkook scowls and puts his phone back into his pocket. “Careful with the door, man. I need this thing to last through the summer.”

Yugyeom puts his hands up in apology, and Jungkook turns back to face the front, starting the ignition with a flick of his wrist. The engine sputters to life, and Jungkook waits for Jimin to pull out first before following after him, tailing the van out of the driveway and onto the winding road that will take you back into the city.

“Music?” you ask, gesturing at the stereo.

“Go for it,” Jungkook replies. “You want my phone so you can put on the roadtrip mix?”

“Sure.”

With the help of the upbeat music and Jungkook’s tendency to drive just a touch over the speed limit, you make it to the winding roads of Yugyeom’s neighborhood in what must be record time. “You missed the turn,” Yugyeom says lazily from where he’s sprawled across the entire backseat. “Turn left here—we can circle around and approach from the other side.”

Two more turns and a descent down a steep hill later, Jungkook manages to successfully drop Yugyeom off at his house. The drive across town takes no time at all, and before long, you’re cruising into your neighborhood, coasting past Jungkook’s driveway and straight into yours.

“Looks like we beat Jimin back,” you remark, looking at the empty spot where the van usually sits.

Jungkook hums. “Makes sense. He has more people to drop off.”

“Mm. Yeah.”

The sudden awkwardness that falls doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Clearing your throat, you reach for your purse, grabbing it from where it’s fallen to the ground near your feet. “I guess I’ll see you around then,” you begin, turning to open the door.

A strong hand wraps around your wrist, forcing you back into your seat. “Is that it?” Jungkook asks, and there’s an edge of something you can’t quite place in his voice. “Are you gonna go back to pretending like there’s nothing between us?”

You shake him free. “There isn’t anything between us,” you whisper. “We’re not on vacation anymore, Jungkook. We’re back home. Back to real life. We can’t do—whatever it is that we’ve been doing.”

“But you’re attracted to me,” Jungkook growls. “You like me. So why do you keep running away?”

A sigh escapes you. “Jungkook, it doesn’t matter if I like you or no—”

He interrupts before you can even finish your sentence. “Yes it does. It’s the only thing that matters.” And then he’s pulling you into his chest, taking advantage of your skewed sense of balance, and crushing his mouth to yours.

This kiss is different from the others you’ve shared so far. It’s hungry and passionate, and yet it’s tinged with something else—something that feels strangely akin to desperation. Jungkook kisses you with urgency, and it’s so raw and unbridled that it steals the very breath from your lungs and leaves you lightheaded.

Jungkook doesn’t say a word when he pulls away. Instead, he reaches down, popping the handle that opens the trunk and stepping out to pull your suitcase from within. Silently, he presses the handle into your hand.

And then he’s turning—climbing back into his car and leaving you with nothing but the memory of his lips and a whirlwind of thoughts in your mind.

#bangtanarmynet #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook #bts #lia writes

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drabbles-mc · 4 years

Text

Passing Through

Bishop Losa x F!Reader

Request by @masterlistforimagines: Okay so reader is passing through Santo Padre for some reason. Her car breaks down, and Bish is her mechanic. I’m thinking like super cute and flirty Bish

Warnings: language, alcohol, Bish being a flirt with a capital F

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: I feel like I always let myself get carried away with requests from you. Like they almost always take on a life of their own once I start writing them. Thank you for loving me and continuing to send them to me regardless lmao. We get a few of our other MC boys in this fic too. Hope y’all enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

Bishop Losa Taglist: @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @queenbeered @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @sesamepancakes @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @arveeee @mayans-sauce @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder (If you want to be tagged in fics for Bish or any of my other writing let me know and I’ll add you to the taglist!)

You’d been driving for practically 2 days straight. It was your own doing—you wanted to go all up and down the coast while you had the opportunity. You didn’t know the next time you would get a few weeks off. However, the first leg of your journey you took your sweet time and didn’t really plan things out, which left you in the tiniest bit of a time-crunch as things were coming to a close. It was impressive that your car had made it this far to begin with. It wasn’t exactly new, but it had always gotten the job done. You knew that this was a big ask, though, and the universe was finally coming to collect.

You sat on the hood, soaking up the sun while you waited for the tow truck to get there. Music was playing from the speaker of your phone as you recounted all of the adventures that you had had so far. If it hadn’t been such a good trip already, this mishap would’ve been far more upsetting. You were in too good of a headspace to be upset, though. Whatever the deal was with your car, you’d figure it out one way or another.

When you saw the tow truck approaching, you shut the music off and hopped down off the hood of your car. You stretched out, trying to gear yourself up for whatever the next leg of your journey was going to be. The truck parked in front of your car and one man hopped out of each side of the vehicle. You bit back a laugh at how different the two of them seemed.

“Are you Y/N?” one man approached you with a clipboard.

You took note of his hands but expressly tried not to stare. Besides, the smile he greeted you with was contagious it was difficult to focus on much else as you nodded, “Sure hope so. Otherwise someone else out there is having just as bad of luck as me.”

He nodded as he handed you the clipboard, “Just need you to fill out this form here for me, Miss.”

You smiled as you took the clipboard and pen from him, “I think I can handle that,” you continued to speak to him as you filled out the paperwork, “What’s your name?”

“Chucky.”

Your eyes flicked up from the paper as you smiled at him, “Nice to meet you, Chucky,” you nodded towards the man who was in the middle of hooking your car up to the tow truck, “Who’s your friend over there?”

“The one and only Johnny ‘Coco’ Cruz.”

You laughed, “One and only, huh?” you handed the clipboard back to him, “Seems like you might know a lot of people who are one-of-a-kind.”

The drive back to the mechanic shop was much more comfortable than you thought it was going to be. Chucky never seemed to run out of things to talk about, which was refreshing. Coco was quiet for most of the ride, chiming in here and there but staying silent for the most part as Chucky drove. The two of them made you wonder what the rest of the people were like at the shop they were taking you to.

When you rolled into the lot, Chucky hopped out and motioned for you to do the same while Coco set about getting your car off the tow truck and into the shop. Part of you wanted to watch it all happen, but Chucky needed you to fill out the rest of the paperwork and answer a few more questions. When he asked you about a rental, you asked if you could see what the damage was on your car before answering that.

You walked over to where your car was being worked on. From the angle you were standing at, you couldn’t see exactly who it was that was working on your car. It was just a pair of legs sticking out from underneath your vehicle. You found a stool to sit on while you waited for whoever it was to resurface so you could ask what exactly was going on and if you were going to need to find a new car to get back home in.

After a few minutes, they rolled back out. He sat up, eyes immediately locking onto yours. You smiled, eyebrows raising slightly as you took in the sight of him. He wiped his hands off on the rag tucked in the pocket of his jeans.

“She yours?” he nodded towards the car.

You sighed, “Depends on what you’re about to tell me.”

He chuckled as he shook his head, “Nothing that we can’t fix.”

“Is it gonna cost me an arm and a leg?”

“It shouldn’t, no,” he stood up, leaning back against your car, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The simple pet name shouldn’t have made your face feel hot, but it did, “It’s Y/N. But you can keep calling me sweetheart if you like,” you paused, “You?”

He laughed at your response before holding out his hand, “Bishop.”

“Nice to meet you, Bishop,” it was hard to take your eyes off of his lips and beard. You shook your head to dispel the thoughts, “So, what exactly is wrong with my car? And can you fix it in the cheapest way possible? I just gotta make it back home.”

He smiled at you, “Back home?”

You nodded, “Yea. Had a couple weeks off between jobs and decided to take advantage of it. Probably should’ve used that time to go car shopping though, huh?”

He chuckled, “Maybe.”

You listened as he outlined what was wrong with your car and how he planned to fix it. You were focusing on what he was saying for the most part, but it was easy to get distracted as you watched the way the muscles in his shoulders and arms flexed as he moved and shifted. You were practically salivating by the time that he finished talking.

“You got all that, sweetheart?” he asked with a laugh, knowing that you had definitely tuned out at a few different points as he spoke.

“I got the important parts,” you said, not trying to deny that you let your mind wander.

“How long are you in town for?” he asked, a curious glint in his eyes.

“At least until you fix my car,” you laughed.

“Maybe I should take my time then.”

You smiled, crossing your arms over your chest, “I don’t know how professional that would be of you, Bishop.”

“First you want me to call you sweetheart, and now you want me to be professional?” he laughed, eyes crinkling at the edges, “You’ve gotta pick one or the other.”

You smiled, nodding, “Fair enough,” you paused, “How about this?” you saw the curiosity written all over his face as you continued, “I’ll budget an extra night or two in Santo Padre into my plans, that way you don’t gotta drag out fixing my car. Besides,” you smiled, “I can’t afford to pay for three days’ worth of labor.”

He smiled and nodded, “Alright. That sounds fair. In that case I could have you up and running by tonight.”

“Just in time for you to take me out for a drink?”

He smiled, “Yea. But I wouldn’t make you take your car for that.”

“Oh? You wouldn’t?”

He shook his head as he gestured towards the row of motorcycles, “I’ll take you out on the town in style.”

You laughed, “Can’t wait,” you stood up off the stool, “I guess I’ll let you get to work then. I know I can be a bit distracting.”

“You’re a welcome distraction,” he nodded towards the building behind you, “If you wanna get outta the heat you can go wait in the clubhouse. My guys will take care of you.”

“Wow,” you tucked your hands into your pockets, “feel like I’m getting the royal treatment.”

He smiled, “Because you are,” he walked over to his toolbox and started taking a few things out, “I’ll come and get you when I’m done.”

You made your way over to the clubhouse. You glanced back over your shoulder and saw Bishop standing there, watching you walk away. You couldn’t help but to flash him a smile as you continued to make your way away from him.

When you pushed open the door to the clubhouse, suddenly everything began to make a lot more sense. You saw multiple men walking around with kuttes on, which explained why you got the feeling the place was a bit like the island of misfit toys. It took all kinds. However, despite the fact that it was home base for the local MC, it didn’t feel like an intimidating place to be. You felt perfectly comfortable as you approached the bar and took a seat.

“What can I get you?” the young man behind the bar offered you a sweet smile as he asked the question.

You clocked the prospect patch on his kutte as you looked him over, “Just water, please. Just trying to get outta the heat.”

“What brings you here? Don’t think I’ve seen you before,” he noted as he handed you a bottle of water.

You sighed slightly, “Car broke down,” you took a sip of your water, “One of your guys is working on it now, though. Bishop?”

The man behind the bar looked surprised, and the man who was sitting a couple stools down from you couldn’t refrain from making a comment. He turned towards you, “Damn, Bish is working on your car?” he chuckled, shaking his head, “Been a minute since I seen Pres get his hands dirty out there. You know him?”

You shook your head, “Don’t know any of you guys, actually.”

He moved to the stool next to yours, holding out his hand, “I’m Angel,” he nodded towards the man behind the bar, “That knucklehead is EZ.”

You laughed as you shook his hand, giving a courteous nod to EZ, “Nice to meet you both. I’m Y/N.”

The three of you sat and chatted while you waited for Bishop to finish up your car. You laughed as you listened to the two of them banter back and forth. For as much as you wished that your car hadn’t broken down, there were a lot worse people to be spending your afternoon with, so you really couldn’t complain.

“So I met Chucky and Coco,” you said as you sipped on your water.

“The dynamic duo,” EZ said with a laugh as he cleaned the glasses behind the bar.

“Is that right?” you asked with a smile.

“Nah, we all love Chucky,” Angel said, “But him and Coco are on the same wavelength sometimes. Shit’s weird.”

You were listening to the two of them dive into another story when a different voice cut through the conversation, “These guys bothering you?”

You laughed as you turned around to face Bishop, “Not at all. They’ve been perfect gentlemen.”

He raised one eyebrow as he looked back and forth between EZ and Angel, “I find that hard to believe.”

You chuckled, shaking your head, “What’s the verdict on my car, presidente?”

Angel and EZ biting back their laughter was audible. Bishop shot them a look but the serious expression only lasted for a moment as a smile broke out across his face, “So I see the three of you have been talking.”

“We have,” you leaned back against the smile, “I’ve also been informed that I have to be pretty high up on the totem pole in order for you to be the one to work on my car.”

He shook his head with a quiet laugh, “Something like that.”

“You decide to work on my car just because you thought I was cute, Bishop?”

“If I say yes are you gonna be mad?”

You laughed, shaking your head, “Not at all.”

“Then…yes.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter at his response. And you also couldn’t help but to notice the surprised looks on the faces of EZ and Angel as they watched you and Bishop go back and forth. Something told you that the Bishop that you were talking to, wasn’t the Bishop that they were used to seeing. That in and of itself was very interesting to you.

“But in answer to your original question,” Bishop got the conversation back on track, “Your car should be good to go.”

“Perfect, thank you so much,” you hopped off the stool, “I’ll go square everything up with Chucky, then.”

Bishop shook his head, his hand catching you by the waist when you went to walk by him, “You’re all set.”

“Bishop,” you folded your arms across your chest, “I can’t just let you not charge me.”

He nodded slowly, “Alright. First round is on you tonight then. Deal?”

You nodded, knowing that that was as much as you were going to be able to get him to budge, “Deal.”

“Let me go clean up and change. I’m sure these two can keep you amused in the meantime.”

You laughed, nodding, “I think so.”

He let his fingers trail lightly across the small of your back as he walked away. This time it was your turn to watch him, biting down lightly on your bottom lip as you did. You stepped back and found your seat once more at the bar, not able to return your attention to the men in front of you until Bishop was completely out of sight.

“Seriously,” Angel said with a laugh, “who are you?” he shook his head, “Never seen Bish flex so hard around someone.”

You laughed, “It’s because he knows he’s on a time crunch. Can’t play the long-game.”

“Time crunch?” EZ spoke up.

You nodded, “Yea, I’m just passing through. Honestly, Santo Padre wasn’t even really a stop I was planning to make before my car shit the bed,” you chuckled with a shrug, “But now that I’m here I might as well make the most of it. Told Bishop I’d budget in some extra time here if he could make it worth my while.”

“Damn,” Angel shook his head with a smile, “you really put him on the spot like that, huh?”

“He certainly didn’t seem to mind,” you laughed.

“Yea, I’ll bet he didn’t,” there was a knowing smirk on Angel’s face as he lifted his beer bottle to his lips.

Before you could try to pry further into what he meant by that, Bishop reappeared in a fresh set of clothes and his kutte. You couldn’t hide the fact that you were gawking at him as he approached you. He smiled as he approached you, holding out a hand to help you hop down off the stool.

“Ready if you are.”

You nodded, “I was born ready,” you laughed as he draped an arm around your waist and guided you back towards the door to the clubhouse.

“Anywhere in particular you’re looking to go?”

You shook your head, “You’re calling the shots tonight, Pres.” You heard Angel let out a whistle from the bar at your statement and you couldn’t help but to laugh. You turned to look at Bishop as the two of you exited the clubhouse, “Your guys seem pretty happy for you.”

He chuckled and shook his head, “Yea, something like that.”

You let him guide you over to the bikes. You weren’t sure if you should mention to him that you had never ridden one before. But he must’ve seen the look of slight apprehension on your face because he gave you a reassuring smile as he handed you a spare helmet.

“It’s not that bad. Just hang onto me and you’ll be fine.”

You smiled at him as you clipped the helmet on, “That sounds like an easy direction to follow.”

He got onto his bike and helped you to do the same, giving you a moment to get situated. You draped your arms lightly around his waist, but the second the bike roared to life your hold on him instantly tightened, causing him to laugh. He checked one last time that you were good to go and once you said yes, he shot out of the compound. You were holding onto him so tight that you were afraid you were going to crack one of his ribs, but he didn’t say anything.

A few miles into the ride, you finally loosened your hold on Bishop a little, allowing him to breathe with ease. You could feel his body vibrating with laughter as you slowly found your comfort.

“You good, sweetheart?”

You laughed as you leaned against him, “All good.”

Of all the towns that you could’ve gotten stranded in for an afternoon, you were glad that it was Santo Padre. And if there was anyone worth switching up your travel plans for, you had a feeling that it was Bishop.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #bishop losa #bishop x reader #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves · 3 years

Note

Hey, if you have time, you can do headcanons about the dating Underbite? I just love this big, voracious, acting like puppy, idiot

My inbox is technically closed, but headcanons are easy enough. Let's go!

Sfw!!:

Underbite is jealous. Very. Tbh if you so much as stand next to another mech, he's ready to beat ass. You pretty much have to assure him every morning that you only want HIS muscles.

Such a show off. Seriously, he loves flexing for you, he loves lifting things for you-sometimes he throws bots just for fun. You should see him in a fight, he's practically begging for you to look at him.

The only one he trusts to look into his mouth. Sometimes he gets stuff stick in there, and he needs help. If you do not help him, he'll sit there, acting like he's got a kernel stuck in his teeth.

Speaking of, he's SUCH a baby when it comes to pain. But only specific type of pain. If he gets fucked up in a fight, he BRACES it, and brags like a big shot. He whines like a giant baby if you're too heavy handed healing him, or he has something stuck in his claws. Oh and sometimes he gets really bad hiccups-they really give him owies, you gotta remind him to chew properly.

Underbite with anyone else:"You wanna fucking square up??😡 I'll actually fucking eat you, you weak ass-" Underbite with you:"Wait why you sitting so far away🥺"

Is embarrassed over his lil tail wags. But you know it means he's happy. You see it most when you scratch his chin.

He's a gentleman, sometimes. Like he'll burp and the smell could kill local wild life, but he'll move a mountain if it meant giving you a clear path.

NSFW!!:

His FAVORITE thing to do? Pussy eating. He can put his head in between your legs for HOURS, and I'm warning you, he's a sloppy eater.

He doesn't do PDA. Not because he doesn't like it, because he does- but he doesn't like anyone knowing about how willing you are to fuck. Because you're HIS.

He's messy. You tell him where to cum, he can't guarantee it's gonna happen. Not intentionally, he's just a fucking meat head who can't think of much during sex.

Favorite style? Doggy. And you can joke about it, he thinks it's funny.

Valve stuff isn't his favorite. His is MAD sensitive due to lack of use (lots of mechs struggle with this, which is unfortunate), but if you're willing to put in the time, you'll realize he actually REALLY likes being the bitch here and there.

Speaking of, if he's not eating or sucking, he's. Not good at dirty talk. It's bad. But it's fine, because his grunts and growls are pretty nice, and he's willing to learn.

A kink of his not many know of- praise kink. Little obvious, but give it to him? Remind him how big and strong he is and how much you love him in your bed. Drives the big pubby NUTS.

#asks #lemon #underbite

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hotchseyebrows · 4 years

Text

now i scan the sky for snow

a penelope garcia x emily prentiss fic

a/n: my very first fic!! woooooooooooo!! thank you for giving it a read and heres to many more :)))

written to fill the prompt "31 (quiet) + seeing your breath, a ship of your choice" from @derekmorqan (better late than never, eh jay?)

read it here on ao3!!

It's January in Boise and Penelope doesn't have any gloves. But her nails definitely match the monochrome purple look of the day, so can you really blame her?

word count: 1561

“Prentiss, when did Hotch go get the car?” Penelope’s voice is muffled from where she’s blowing hot air into her ungloved hands.

Emily glances at her phone. “It’s only been 2 minutes.” In a practiced dad move, Hotch decided to make the trek through the flurries of snow to the SUV alone, citing Penelope’s tall heels and the potential for black ice in the parking garage, leaving Emily and Penelope standing outside of their Boise hotel. Earlier, Emily and Hotch stayed behind with Penelope to help her pack up stray gear and cords from her set up in the local precinct while the others got a head start on cleaning up their hotel rooms. By the time the trio got back to the hotel themselves, Rossi had already started the drive to the airport with Reid, Morgan, and JJ, all of them happy to be heading home after a rough case.

Penelope makes a small huff before wrapping both of her arms around her stomach. The puff of air floats upward, creating a small cloud in between them before dissipating. “Why don’t you have gloves anyway, Garcia? It’s January and we’re in the middle of Idaho.”

Penelope crinkles her nose a little as she sticks her tongue out at Emily. “But my nails are so cute and gloves would cover them!” She’s right, her nails are a sparkly purple that coordinates well with the sparkly purple beanie on her head and the deep purple lipstick that Emily can’t stop staring at when she talks.

“You forgot them in your bat cave before we got on the jet, huh?”

The pink flush on Penelope’s cheeks from the cold turns much more scarlet. “I’m not used to winter prep for a go-bag, let alone maintaining a go-bag at all!”

Emily chuckles, privately memorizing the contrast of the rosy flush and her purple lips and how shiny her eyes are behind the large purple hexagon glasses. “Do you want to wait in the lobby?” Surprisingly, Penelope shakes her head even as she visibly shivers underneath her puffy coat.

“The snow is so pretty out here. And it’s so quiet, like there’s no one else in the world.” She tilts her head up, eyes closed for a moment as she sticks her tongue to catch some flurries. After a beat, her eyes open and she looks at Emily with joy dancing in her gaze. “Come on Emily, have fun with me.”

“I always have fun with you, Penelope,” she says too honestly. Penelope sees something in her face that makes her pause and they stand in silence. The snow falls gently and the puffs of their breath mingle in the space between them.

Emily tells herself she’s watching their breath and the snow simultaneously but her eyes remain fixed only on Penelope. Without giving it too much thought, she pulls off her gloves and hands them to her. “Your hands are still shaking,” she says in answer to the silent question in the tilt of Penelope’s head.

“But now you’ll be cold.”

Emily shrugs. But that isn’t good enough for Penelope, who hands back the left glove before pulling the right one on herself. “Penelope, I don’t need-”

“Oh no, I won’t hear it, we can share or you can have them both back.” It’s moments like this that make Emily’s heart skip a few beats. Penelope’s effortless kindness is currently a stubborn glint in her eyes and Emily knows better than to argue. She makes a small production out of acquiescing, pulling the glove on with a dramatic sigh. Penelope laughs, the sound bright and warm as it bounces through the cold quiet air. It’s the best sound in the world.

Emily can’t help but smile in response. Snow is lightly covering the puffy sleeves of Penelope’s coat and creating its own set of sparkles on the purple beanie. She uses the gloved hand to brush the shoulders clean. Penelope’s gaze on her face is a warm and tangible thing somehow, and suddenly her face feels incredibly hot. Her hand comes to a rest, lightly gripping her upper arm. “Um. Is your- is your other hand still cold?”

Penelope nods. Emily nods back, flexing her own ungloved hand. She extends it palm up towards Penelope. “For warmth,” Emily says, voice not as shaky as she feels all of a sudden.

Penelope blinks twice, before slipping her hand into Emily’s without a word. They both stare at their joined hands until Penelope twists her hand, interlocking their fingers. Emily’s whole arm crackles with a low flame, warmth billowing up the limb and spreading through her torso. In pursuit of that warmth, Emily takes a step closer. The only sound she can hear is the mixed sounds of their breathing. She glances down to watch the breath leave Penelope’s purple lips into the cold air and can’t tear her eyes away. Penelope’s fingers twitch and then tighten in Emily’s grip. Glancing up to take in her whole face, Emily is sucked in by the openness of her expression- the way the cold has made her glow, the way her eyes are gazing back into Emily’s with softness and hesitation all at once, the way the warmth of her exhales slightly fog up her glasses, the way snowflakes land on her eyelashes and her nose and her hair and the swell of her cheeks and slowly become beads of water- and opens her own mouth because she has to say something, right?

“Penelope, I-”

Just then, Hotch pulls up next to them. The hum of the engine is like a crack in the perfect stillness of the moment and Emily jumps back slightly from the surprise. Their hands, still entangled, drop out of his line of sight. Penelope circles her thumb on Emily’s skin once, twice, and then a third time before letting go. Emily shivers, but she knows this time it isn’t from the cold.

Hotch gets out of the car to help with the bags, and Emily manages to fully tear her attention away from Penelope. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she sees it has been a little longer than she would have expected, even accounting for the car being on the 4th floor of the parking garage and the elevator being completely out of order.

“What took you so long, Hotch?” She’s half joking, mostly looking to listen to something over her own pounding heart. But he blushes in response, a similar color to Penelope’s pretty flush from slight embarrassment just minutes earlier. It makes her stop and really look at him. He’s limping the tiniest bit, and the back of his coat looks slightly damp. Emily bites her lip, debating if she should say something more. Penelope, however, has no such debate.

“Oh! Bossman! Did you fall?” She waddles over on her heels, careful not to slip herself. “Are you ok?”

He clears his throat before leaning down and picking up the two largest of their bags. “I’m fine.” The signature Hotch glare is back in full force, but she knows he’s a little embarrassed. His cheeks haven’t lost all of the red flush yet and he won’t quite meet their eyes. Instead, he stows the suitcases in the back of the SUV before grabbing two more.

They glance at each other, attempting to hide a smile. He notices, because of course he does, but that just sends them both into actual laughter. After a moment, he starts to laugh too. They all climb into the car, Emily holding the passenger seat door open for Penelope and offering a hand (that is very enthusiastically taken) to help her into the car. As he puts the car in drive and the laughter fully dies out, he says “I told you I was worried about black ice.”

It makes Penelope laugh all over again, but Emily just watches her from her seat behind Hotch. Her beanie is still firmly on her head and the remaining bits of snow all over her are melting in the heat from the car. Emily flexes her ungloved hand again, arm still feeling tingly. Penelope sees her do it in the rearview mirror, and blushes again. Their eyes meet, and they share soft secretive smiles. If Derek hasn’t saved Penelope a seat and if Spencer isn’t taking up the whole couch again, maybe I’ll try to discreetly sit next to her on the couch. Just in case her hands are still cold.

Penelope only breaks their stare when Hotch asks her something about some budget maneuvering for new computer nonsense. She responds to him with her signature enthusiasm, and Emily settles back into her seat, knowing this conversation will probably last until they get to the airport. She’s content to only half listen and instead enjoy watching Penelope be incredibly smart and passionate. She keeps glancing back at her in the rearview mirror, but Emily doesn’t mind that Penelope knows she’s staring. Her mind drifts off as she watches Penelope’s mouth move as she speaks. She thinks about how close she was doing something reckless. She’s still close to doing something reckless if she’s being completely honest. Somehow though, she doesn’t think she’s the only one. The snow is still falling, and it’s still the middle of winter in Idaho. Yet, Emily Prentiss has never felt so warm.

#penemily #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #cm #cj.txt #cm fic #cjs fic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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miracle-sham · 3 years

Text

Die Like the Butterfly Shoot With Their Guns.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Week 2, Day 7: Guns} |

Chapter 1 of Sheltered by Darkness not yet Moths to the Flame.

———

| Sometimes a family can be a gang comprised of eleven vigilantes, and their AI robot, fighting against the father of one of their own. |

| Or alternatively: after falling through the cracks, they do what they must to survive. And if that means committing crimes in order to bring down the Big Butterfly and all the other corrupt businesses in the city, then so be it. |

———

| Tonight's the night. Half of them will strike one of the Big Butterfly's warehouses that just so happens to contain some fancy new gun tech. Besides, it'll be in better hands with them than the Big Butterfly or his associates. Now all that matters, is that nothing goes wrong! |

| Word Count: 3,322. |

| Warnings/Tags: Cyberpunk/Criminal/Gang Au, Explicit Language/Swearing, Hacking, Breaking and Entering, Theft, Mentions of Bombs and Guns, Mentions of corrupt/shady businesses, Fluff, Gang/Team as family/family dynamics, Found Family. |

———

| A/N: It is Cyberpunk Au time! This is a twoshot, so have a looksy to see if you can find all the snippets of foreshadowing I've set! Also this is mostly Action/Fluff but beware of the warnings regardless. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

Rain patters against the concrete, sound mixing with the low hum and high buzz of electricity. The ground is slick with murky puddles that never seem to clean the pavement. Still just as filthy as before, permanently dyed with dried bloodstains, mud stains, electric scorch marks, and far worse. The air is heavy with the smell of cigarette smoke, ozone, and that ever underlying decay that clings to the city.

It's dark—dead of night—but the streets are awash with flickering neon lights. There are a few others haunting the street though most of them are sticking to the areas of light, avoiding the shadows.

Which is where Marinette, also known as the ruthless gang leader Fantôminou, is lurking.

Jason—Red Hood, her co-leader—snarls as he drops down onto the shadowed fire escape beside her. “We've got a rat. Someone's tipped off the big Butterfly and security has been increased around the perimeter. Most likely interior security increased too.”

Fantôminou flexes her glowing clawed gauntlets, “I suppose we should check in with our local pied piper, before we strike, hmm?”

There's a bzzt in her earpiece as the channel is hijacked by the familiar voice of their gang's hacker, Max aka Raijack. “I wouldn't worry about that if I were you, our pied piper has already been contacted. Whoever they were, they didn't reveal which location we were targeting, so it's just a general security increase.”

She hums. “Raijack, link us up with the rest of the strike force.”

“Got it, 'Minou.” He responds, and not a split second later, the earpiece makes another bzzt and there's the faint ping of the rest of the channel being alerted at someone joining.

“Look, I think you could totally pull off the—oh, who just joined the channel?” Adrien, Cheval Mallet, asks in surprise.

“Just me and our anthill tiger.” Red Hood announces, snorting at the glare Fantôminou sends him.

Silence echoes across the line before a scrabble of hushed but excited voices causes a ruckus.

Fantôminou sighs, “I know we're all excited to hit the big Butterfly hard by stealing some of their new fancy gun tech. But let's leave the yelling for when we inevitably set off the alarms!”

“Hey!” Raijack protests. “I'll have you know I have produced a new virus that has a ninety-eight per cent chance of not setting off any alarms!”

Red Hood rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but you've still not worked out how to get your viruses to deactivate the bombs in the crates yet, huh?”

“I will one day, until then it's your job to stop the bombs from triggering the rest of the alarms!” Raijack counters with a huff.

Fantôminou sighs again, this time with an added sprinkling of are-you-kidding-me. “Red Hood, Raijack. I can and will kick your asses if you do not shut up so we can discuss final prep before we begin the pesticide protocol.”

Bumping shoulders with her, Red Hood snorts again. “I've got nothing against being beat up by someone as pretty and buff as you Minou, you know that!”

“Oh, I think we can all agree to wanting to get crushed by Minou's guns.” Cheval Mallet pipes up once more.

Fantôminou sighs very wearily. “Nevermind, are you all ready?”

Red Hood salutes at her, and despite his mouth being covered, it's easily telling that he's grinning cockily underneath. “I'm ready. My guns are ready, and I've got the bomb defusal kit at the ready.”

“I may be holding my horses but I'm saddled to giddy-up on the go!” Cheval Mallet cheerfully announces.

“This has to be one of your worst attempts at horse puns yet.” Raijack comments, “otherwise, I'm in position and ready to hack on your call, Minou.”

Red Hood exchanges a glance with Fantôminou as silence falls over the earpiece channel. “Hold up, where's Arsenal? Shouldn't he have checked in by now?”

Taking his hand gently, Fantôminou gives it a reassuring squeeze.

“He already did but because you two had your issues getting into position and avoiding the unexpected police patrol, Arsenal had to deal with another issue that popped up which would've threatened our plan,” Raijack informs, sounding nonplussed.

“Well, you don't sound concerned.” Fantôminou points out the obvious. “Has he got back up?”

There's the faint tapping of a keyboard through the earpiece channel before Raijack responds, “Chèvrapide is on her way to back him up, don't worry.”

“Then that's everyone accounted for. Let's rock and roll.” Red Hood orders, dropping from the fire escape and landing in the rain-slick alleyway with ease, conveniently right beside the hoverbike they had stashed here.

Fantôminou hops down after him, except she manages to flip and expertly land in the driver's seat. “I'm driving Jay, you're the one with the guns after all,” she all but states, putting one gauntleted hand up and flexing just to hammer in the point, “I'm close range only right now and you know it.”

Red Hood throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey! I'd never complain about getting to watch you drive this beauty of a hoverbike.”

Fantôminou snorts. “Just get on, pretty bird!”

“Well, if you say so, pretty kitty!” Red Hood teases back, vaulting onto the back of the bike behind her. He wraps an arm around her waist and rests the other hand on his sheathed-for-now gun.

She revs the engine of the hoverbike and steers out of the alleyway with practised ease. There's no directions on the hoverbike's holoscreen, but it's not like they need any—the directions to where they need to be outside the warehouse have already been memorised by each and every one of them.”

Down the left street, take the right at the T junction, pass under the flyover street, then take a further two lefts and then straight on until the block of office buildings forming a protective extra layer between the warehouse electric razor wire tipped fencing and the road. Easy.

“All networks in the office buildings have temporarily shut down. As far as the tech will be concerned, it'll look like the networks just decided to not work today.” Raijack announces through the earpiece channel, voice coming through slightly more robotic than usual.

“So no security cams?” Fantôminou checks cautiously, circling like a hawk around the small stretch of street between her and the office building she and Jason will be entering through. The rain has slowed to a drizzle but that doesn't make the circling in it any less mildly uncomfortable, at least inside it'll be dry.

There's the familiar clack of keys once more. “Not quite, they're a little harder to crack than entering in through the backdoor via someone's unprotected webcam in the office. Thank you, Shodan.” Raijack pauses, keys continuing to clack in the background. “Unfortunately, the Big Butterfly's got tech security smart enough to keep the security system on a closed network so I can't hop from webcam to computer to network to cams. However, they didn't account for Markov, suckers!”

Red Hood snorts. “Isn't Markov a little obvious for this kinda mission?”

“Oh, did I forget to tell you?” Raijack says, in a voice that very clearly conveys he didn't forget so much as purposefully neglected to mention, “I recently upgraded Markov, outfitting him with the currently most highly advanced cloaking system. Thanks to some help from Fantôminou's knowledge of cloaking and camouflage fashion.”

Red Hood leans his head onto Fantôminou's shoulder. “I'm hurt, you knew and didn't tell me? I want cloaking guns! Think of how much cooler I'd look with them!”

Fantôminou merely hums in an unamused response. “Raijack wanted it to be a surprise.”

He huffs. “I see who your favourite person in our gang is then!”

“You're right! It's me!” Cheval Mallet cheers, jumping into the conversation.

“Fucking 'ell!” Red Hood curses under his breath. “I thought you were gonna mute whilst getting in position.”

Cheval Mallet's laugh cuts in and out across the earpiece channel. “And when did I hay that!”

“Hacker voice, I'm in!” Raijack interrupts. “Looks like the security system was perfectly untouched by whatever minor error caused the main networks to crash, how lucky. Which is to say, looping is in process, and we now have free entry.”

“Got us a place to park yet, though?” Red Hood asks.

Raijack doesn't immediately respond, but the sound of the garage door connected to the office building opening, is answer enough. “I might.”

Fantôminou snorts. “Thanks, Raijack. Hood and I need to split here right, just until we get past the fencing right?”

“That's right.” Raijack responds, “good luck, and Markov and I will see you all on the other side.”

“Break a leg, or three!” Red Hood calls over the earpiece. “Preferably some else's though!”

Fantôminou pulls the hoverbike into the garage, keeping her gaze ahead. “If I could elbow you without fucking up my parking, I would.”

Red Hood cackles quietly in response, trying to at least keep to the stealth part of the mission plan.

In the blink of an eye, the hoverbike is securely parked. Perfectly hidden in plain sight but easily accessible for a quick and clean getaway should nothing go wrong. And well, if something were to go wrong, there's not going to be any hoverbike left for evidence. Though, that's not to say a small part of Fantôminou's brain doesn't anxiously hate how they're practically sitting on top of bombs ready to blow up at the slightest hint of things going wrong. However, they've been through enough strikes like this for the concern to be mostly easily ignored.

———

With the hoverbike parked, Fantôminou and Red Hood part ways.

Fantôminou heads up through the internal stairwell connected to the garage, whilst Red Hood takes one of the external doors leading to the office building next door.

The stairwell is like any other maintenance stairwell. Grey concrete walls, metal railings and steps. Even Fantôminou's light footsteps clang loudly against the ridged metal stairs. It's cold, just as cold as the garage was and barely warmer than it is outside in the rain. The air is stuffy but at least the respirator hidden beneath the bandana wrapped around her mouth makes it bearable to breathe. Other than the aforementioned clanging of steps, and her breathing, Fantôminou is alone with the ominous silence of a liminal space.

The stairs stretch on upwards for what seems far longer than it should, but eventually, Fantôminou reaches the final steps to the roof entrance door.

The door is unlocked, and so Fantôminou opens it as quietly as possible. She walks out into the rain once more and scrunches up her nose. A quick glance of the roof yields no immediate signs of danger or anything of note, so she continues to the edge of the roof.

Fantôminou rests one foot on the lip of the roof and flexes her gauntlets, lights switching off for stealth. Carefully, she turns around and crouches on the lip, gauntlets gripping the edge and toes of her boots braced against the wall. Bit by bit she descends, gauntlets making it more than easy to stay attached to the wall.

Two-thirds of the way down, Fantôminou climbs onto a window sill. The fence is only a metre below, with a further four-metre drop. No security drones in sight, yet—but no alarms have been triggered yet either.

A shadow drops down the building and over the fence on the other side of the compound. Not a second later is the double buzz of the earpiece signalling that someone is in position.

Fantôminou smirks beneath her face coverings, not one to be so quickly outdone she leaps forwards in a dive—spinning midair as she begins to plummet. Clearing the razor wire fence with room to spare.

She hits the ground in another diving roll, and immediately uses the momentum to throw herself up and run towards the nearest warehouse building. As soon as she reaches the wall, she double-taps her earpiece to send the double buzz signal to others.

A moment later comes the third double buzz, soon followed by the fourth and final signal.

“Markov is covering our air support.” Raijack's voice clips across the earpiece channel, “Fantôminou, you and Red Hood are on opposite ends of the same warehouse. I've unlocked the doors for you. You know the drill.”

“Thank you, Raijack. Entering now.” Fantôminou responds, she slinks over to the warehouse doors and cautiously pries open the now unlocked door.

Fantôminou heads straight for the terminal, and knows Red Hood is doing the same. Slipping Raijack's new and improved virus into one of the terminal's ports. Seconds pass.

“Interface secured,” Raijack informs.

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Red Hood prowling over to her. She nods to him and taps into the terminal with her gauntlet.

Red Hood readies his bomb defusal kit as she instructs the internal warehouse drones into delivering the goods to them.

The drone, blinking yellow—a sure sign of Raijack's virus in effect—hovers over and drops a large black cased crate before them.

As soon as the claws of the drone release the crate, Red Hood is immediately on it, pulling it open and weeding out the bomb.

They wait with bated breath. Red Hood tinkers away. The earpiece channel is silent as the team focuses.

He hisses through his teeth, and Fantôminou tenses—ready to grab him and run, in the worst case—but he only packs the kit back away and sighs in relief.

He taps the earpiece thrice—signalling success.

Raijack and Cheval Mallet don't respond, so Fantôminou and Red Hood stuff their haul into Fantôminou's Miraculous, for ease of transport, and begin making their way towards the warehouse the other two were hitting.

By the time they reach the nearest warehouse doors, the earpiece triple buzzes. Success, again.

They pause only to exchange a nod between the two before continuing to meet up with Cheval Mallet and Raijack—no rendezvous needed this time so far.

It takes forty seconds to cross halfway to the other warehouse, where they meet the other two along with Markov in the middle.

Cheval Mallet waves a hand and the five of them skulk over to a small shed off the side of another warehouse. He raises his horseshoe weapon and calls out, “Bon Voyage!”

The portal forms and Markov flies through first. The remaining four exchange glances then bolt forwards, racing to see who can get through first.

The blue light blinds them all for a second, despite how used to the power they are.

“Mission success!” Fantôminou cheers breathlessly once the blue fades, throwing her hands up in celebration.

“WOOH!” Cheval Mallet yells, jumping up and punching the air.

Red Hood snorts, “but more importantly I so won!”

Raijack hums, “let's see what Markov has to say about that.”

Markov makes a series of boops and beeps, yellow LEDs flickering. “Red Hood is correct, he won the portal race.”

“YES!” Red Hood crows.

“Oh come on!” Raijack grumbles.

Footsteps and clapping approaches. “Well done,” Félix praises, “but perhaps leave the celebration until after you've all gotten into jammies.”

Cheval Mallet giggles, “Flicks, I can't believe you can somehow still sound pretentious whilst saying something as childish sounding as "jammies"!”

Félix raises an eyebrow, “you say this every time I call pyjamas that. Now come on, I've ordered pizza and Roy, Alix, Luka, Artemis, Kori, and Bizarro are already waiting for you lot, in the lounge, so we can get the party started.” He turns on his heel and walks out of the utility-changing room.

Markov, as the only one not needing to change, shows the tongue-sticking-out emoji on his LED screen and zooms after Félix.

Jason, Marinette, Adrien, and Max all start changing out of their gear as quickly as possible.

“Oh no!” Adrien gasps, half undressed, suddenly remembering something. “We forgot to take the motorbikes back!”

Marinette groans, “I knew I was forgetting something!"

Facepalming, Jason sighs. “We were all too caught up in everything going well for once.”

Max snorts. “Oh don't worry! I anticipated this, all it took was a little hacking into our hoverbikes and now they're on autopilot to one of our empty storage bases.”

“Oh. Well, that's good then.” Adrien says, looking a little embarrassed.

“Yeah… anyway come on, we don't want to keep your cousin and the others waiting any longer! They'll eat all the pizza!” Marinette exclaims.

They all finish changing into loungewear and pyjamas just as music starts to play from the lounge and so frantically, they all dash towards it, trying to shove each other out of the way and laughing playfully as they do so.

They've won a battle, they've successfully gotten in and out with a good haul of gun tech. No alarms tripped, nothing went wrong. Hoverbikes undamaged and on the route home. For once, everything went smoothly. And that, is cause for an evening of celebration.

Leaving the worries of the rat for tomorrow.

———

In a dark observatory with a closed butterfly window, a folder is tossed across a desk.

Papillon glances down at the folder with indifference. He rests his elbows on the expensive polished wood and steeples his fingers. “You said you had acquired information that you believe will interest me?”

The man in a black suit sitting opposite Papillon, smiles patiently. “My informant went through quite the lengths to acquire this. Why not take a look inside.”

Papillon purses his lips, “this better not be a waste of my precious time, Lex.”

Lex Luthor raises an eyebrow in amusement. “I assure you, Gabriel, you will find what is inside most interesting.”

There's a moment's pause as Gabriel waits. Nothing happens. He nods and then opens the folder. He spreads the papers inside in arc across the desk. In the middle of the papers, is the photo of a smiling teenage girl with bright blue eyes, and blue-dyed hair. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” He reads out, lips curling into a contemplative frown.

“Poor little girl,” Lex croons mockingly, “missing—presumed dead—after her parents' bakery was destroyed in an Akuma attack. Her name should be familiar to you though, won your one-day derby hat competition at her school.”

Gabriel's fingers still mid-steeple, and he moves one hand up to his chin in thought. “Ah yes, I remember that designer. The one with the feather derby whose design was stolen and copied. That signature embroidery was impressive work.” He recounts.

Lex grins, “yes, however most distressingly, it would seem this up and coming star of a designer has lost her glow.”

“How so?” Gabriel responds, furrowing his brows.

“Well you see, my informant has found… evidence, that our poor little designer here fell through the cracks into the shadows after the loss of her parents and bakery. It's rather obvious that the larvae have taken her as their own, some of their masks and clothes fit perfectly with what we know of her unique incorporation of her signature, as well as stitch work.” Lex explains, waving a hand towards the rest of the photographs and documents spread from the folder.

Gabriel frowns and eyes a few of the other papers with interest. “I see, that is most unfortunate.”

“But.” Lex cuts in before Gabriel can say anything more. “I'm well aware you're plenty familiar with fixing larvae with damaged wings and frayed wires. As such, a strange little cold case brimming with potential for your program, would do quite nicely for your collection, wouldn't you say?” Lex insinuates, rising from his seat as he continues, “rescue the poor larvae, craft it a chrysalis, and nurture the Pupa into something radiant. Not unlike what you did with the Macrothylacia Rubi, and your replacement wife.” With that, Lex smiles smugly down at Gabriel and then strides out of the observatory, not giving Gabriel a chance to respond.

And leaving Papillon to the folder and his musings.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

| Behind the Names: Fantôminou is a portmanteau of Fantôme (Ghost/Phantom) and Minou (Kitty). And she's called that because I thought the Black Footed cat fit her, and they're nicknamed Anthill Tigers. They also have the highest successful hunting rate! |

| Raijack is a portmanteau of Raiju (lightning dragon) and jack plug (the connect-y bit on headphones into a phone for example) but is also a play on the word Hijack. |

| Cheval Mallet is an evil horse spirit that offers rides to weary travellers and kidnaps them. Yes, there is a reason behind this. It's covered in Chap 2 |

| Chèvrapide is a portmanteau of Chèvre (Goat) and Rapide (Fast). |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I’ll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

20 notes · View notes

badbhye · 5 years

Text

feels like summer (m)

You only have one question on your mind this summer: when did Jeon Jungkook get abs?

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: neighbor au, smut, fluff, angst (if u squint)

warnings: alcohol mention, drinking, explicit sexual content; voyeurism, masturbation, fingering, dom/sub-themes, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral sex (m/f receiving), throat fucking, cum play, grinding, gagging, oc has a muscle kink, jungkook’s character doing a whole 180 halfway through the plot

word count: 16.6k

A/N: This was originally written for the BSC Drabble Exchange and obviously I’m two months late...but also....this spiraled out of drabble territory so fast. But to the person who originally requested this, I hope you see it and enjoy it! Please don’t forget to send in some feedback, and I apologize for any mistakes!

"You're drooling a little there," Yoongi mumbles, nudging your arm.

"Will you shut up," you glare, trying to focus on the article you're supposed to be reviewing but it's difficult. How can you focus on Market Upheavals when Jeon Jungkook is doing pull-ups in his backyard.

You don't know how it happened but when you came back home from college one fine day, Jungkook had just changed. He wasn't just the kid who stuck to your brother like a second skin, following him around like a lost puppy anymore. He had grown up. A little too much, you think to yourself when he lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat that had collected on his forehead. You think you're mistaken, but you catch him looking right where you're sitting, and when he does, you have to hold back the jolt of shivers that threaten to go down your spine.

"Hey, hyung," he calls, waving his hand to Yoongi before making his way over the short fence. "I wanted to ask if I could go over some of my compositions with you later."

"Yeah, stop by sometime before 8, my shift starts at 11," Yoongi responds without looking up from his phone. Jungkook lets out a non-committal hum in acknowledgment before he leans over to you, invading your personal space so all you can see is his sweaty torso. Your eyes budge at the way his muscles flex and follow the way a drop of sweat trails down the side of his jaw, down to his neck. He's so close you can feel his breath on your skin, his eyes noting your reactions and you swear you see a corner of his lips twitch. "Noona," he says, voice lower than normal. Your eyes jolt to meet his own, mouth suddenly very dry.

"You're sitting on my towel," he points towards the offending cloth placed snugly between the dock chair and your thighs.

"Oh," you let out, voice uncharacteristically weak but you comply nonetheless, moving so he can slide it out from under you. He grazes the skin of your thigh lightly, and you know he's doing it on purpose. You don't know when he got so bold, last time you were home he'd barely even look at you for more than a minute before he was reduced to a blushing, stuttering mess.

But that was two summers ago and the scrawny, awkward boy you used to know is no longer there.

All too soon, he shuffles back as if the interaction never happened. You're ashamed enough to peek a glance at Yoongi, who is still focused on his phone. If he noticed anything, he's feigning ignorance which you're thankful for. When Jungkook's done obnoxiously drying off the sweat off his body, going as far as to take off his shirt completely and flinging the flimsy cloth on his shoulder as he finishes drying his hair. You're left in utter shock, shamelessly ogling his movements, especially the way his shoulder blades flex with every shift of his arms. When he bids goodbye to Yoongi with a promise to meet up later, he turns once more to catch your gaze. His expression dancing with playful mirth, "Bye, noona!" He calls, almost sweetly, and you gulp. When he's gone, you feel like you can finally breathe again, you turn towards the dreaded article you should have been done analyzing by now when you notice Yoongi's eyes on you.

"What do you want?" You say, not sparing him a glance.

"You know..." he yawns a little, almost bored. "I really didn't need to see you and Jeon eye-fucking each other like that," moving to leave his spot on the adjacent dock chair.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you try to busy yourself once again but the flush of your cheeks gives you away. Plus, it's Yoongi. You could never hide anything from him, even if you wanted to.

"Please," he rolls his eyes. "Cut the crap, you think I don't know about your little crush on him?"

You can't help but sputter at his blunt words though it shouldn't be surprising to you anymore. He doesn't wait on you to answer him before he makes his way back inside and you try to focus on your work again — the keyword being try.

The list of work you'd made when you were feeling especially productive glares at you from your desk. Clearly, the thought of being ahead in your classes, or even catching up to your current courses was not something you'd be able to pull off this time. The reason for this belated realization: Jeon Jungkook. It wasn't as if you weren't used to him being at your house all the time, you'd practically grown up together. Well, in the neighborly sense. He never spent too much time with you, opting to accompany Yoongi instead. You always wondered whether the boy had an issue with you, maybe he just didn’t like you. It never bothered you too much, you had eventually brushed it off because you had your own thing going on. It wasn't until high school that you and Yoongi's social circles merged but Jungkook still kept his distance.

But now, it's like he's always there. Always in your field of vision. It's not like you try to seek him out (you tell yourself) but it's like he knows where you'll be. It's almost domestic seeing him help your mother bring in the groceries or mowing the yard for your father. And when you pass by him, he always makes sure to acknowledge you, and boy, do you. Ever since he's grown out of his lanky body and filled out a bit more, he's started wearing more form-fitting clothes. Like the white shirt, he's wearing right now. He's been watering the plants in his backyard and because of the heat today washed himself off too. You're conveniently sitting on your porch, laptop in tow but you're not working. How can you when you have the perfect view of how the material of his shirt sticks to his abdomen. The only question in your mind right now is when did Jungkook get abs? You haven't been away from home for that long... or maybe you just didn't notice before. Just then, he lifts his wet shirt over his head and you find it impossible that you couldn't have noticed. And you swear he maintains eye contact with you when he does it, the fucker even has the audacity to smirk.

The silent staring contest is shattered when Yoongi comes out, probably trying to sneak a smoke before your mom gets home.

"I really can't get a moment of peace, can I?" He settles against the porch railing, fishing a cigarette out of his pocket.

You and me both, you begrudgingly think but you keep that thought to yourself, forcing your eyes away from Jungkook to look at Yoongi instead.

"What's up?" You ask, concern evident in your voice. Yoongi wasn't one to complain.

He takes a long drag. "They're giving me overtime for the entire week...won't have time to compose."

You frown, Yoongi barely had any free time on his hands. He worked at the local radio station during the dead hours of the night along with helping out your mom with any housework and composing music whenever he could on top of it all. You feel terrible because you're barely home because of college and you know that's affected Yoongi. You're aware that he most likely regrets dropping out but you know it wasn't his calling. He was wasting his talents by sticking to studying business so you still support his decision. But, maybe staying home wasn't as good as you thought it would be for him. If you could take his place, you would in a heartbeat but you know he'd never let you. He was always like that.

"If you need any help..." You offer, but you know your attempt is futile, "I can take mom out for errands when I'm here."

"Do you think she'll let you drive Petunia?" He laughs, putting out the cigarette before he's even done smoking half of it.

"I'm good at driving," you defend yourself. You admit you were never the best driver but you had gotten your license fair and square.

"I'm happy you want to help," your mother says placing heaps of food onto a plate she especially prepared for Jungkook. "But I'd rather you not drive my car."

You glare at Yoongi when he laughs at your expense.

"I have a license," you remind them quickly but all it does is give a non-committal hum from your mother. It’s rather embarrassing to have your family ridicule your driving skills, especially when Jungkook’s joined you for dinner tonight.

“I’m happy to help out,” Jungkook meekly pipes in. “I drive my dad’s truck for errands all the time, so it won’t be an issue.”

“You’re such a helpful young boy, any girl would be lucky to snatch you up,” your mother coos, ruffling his hair causing him to let out a small laugh, briefly meeting your eyes before he’s too busy trying to keep your mother from adding even more food onto his plate.

The subject on your part, unfortunately, is dropped for the moment and you angrily eat the rest of your dinner.

A couple of days go by and you've forgotten about the whole thing altogether. You find yourself busy with yet another reading you had until you hear your mom come through the front door.

"Just set these here, sweetie," she motions towards the counter in the kitchen. And in tow, you see none other than Jungkook carrying three big bags of groceries with such ease. You don't know if you're jealous that he can carry that much in one go when it probably would take you two trips, but you can't lie and say you didn't just ogle at the way the muscles of his arms flex.

"So, they said the shipment of those Torx screwdrivers were coming in at 4, so they should have them by now," your mother informs him while she's unloading the fresh produce.

"Ah, I can go now then," Jungkook responds, putting the cereal away. By spending so much time here, he'd become to familiarise himself with how things were in your house. He probably had a whole system set up by the way he was moving so quickly. You manage to bring your focus back to your work successfully, although it proves to be a difficult feat. It isn't until you hear your mother call out your name that your focus breaks once more.

"___," she repeats, coming into the living room where you're seated. "I need you to go run some errands with Jungkook."

Your head whips up so fast you almost give yourself whiplash. "H-huh? Didn't you just get the groceries?"

Your mother pins you with a look that indicates not to ask questions. "You said you wanted to help out around the house."

The complaint that threatens to spill out is quickly stopped in its tracks when you see the expectant look on Jungkook's face when he peeks in from the kitchen. Your resolve is so easy to break. You huff, roughly putting away your books before you go to put on some shoes — you can't look too eager now.

It's silent in the car for a couple of minutes, but it's a long drive. Leave it to your mom to stay loyal to the hardware store that's all the way across town. It's a little awkward sitting in close quarters with Jungkook after the way you've been thinking about him these days...you almost feel guilty. So, you focus on the radio instead, listening to whatever mindless pop song that plays next. It's when Jungkook clears his throat when he's stopped at the red light, slowly lowering the volume of the radio that you're reminded of your situation. You're alone with Jungkook.

"So," he begins, eyeing you briefly, "How have you been, noona?"

You peer over at him, "Oh...um same old, I guess."

He hums, "...Are you still seeing uh, Joonho?"

"Junho," you correct him. "And no, we split after he graduated."

"Oh good," he mumbles under his breath but backtracks immediately when he realizes you heard him. "Ah, I mean I hope you're doing good after the split..."

"Nice save," you chuckle as he rubs the shell of his ears nervously. "I'm fine," you clarify, eyeing the radio. "It was a mutual decision."

When he doesn't respond, you sigh, moving to turn up the volume again so you don't have to deal with the silence. Jungkook's just doing your mom a favor anyway, it's not like he wants to be alone with you.

Soon enough, you become hyper-aware of the fact that Jungkook is in the car with you and god, why did the hardware store have to be all the way across town? You stare at him from the corner of your eye but have to stop yourself when your thoughts start going south once again.

"So," you clear your throat, talking loud enough so he can hear you over the radio. "How have you been?" You redirect his question back to him. "How's college been?"

"Oh, um," Jungkook stammers a bit as if he's embarrassed. "I'm thinking of dropping out..."

You shut the radio at that and turn to face him completely, "Why?"

He looks over to you at your bluntness. "Huh?"

"Jeon Jungkook, please don't tell me you're dropping out because Yoongi did," you accuse, sounding almost angry.

"Noona, how could you think so lowly of me?" He pouts. "It was just something I was thinking about," he admits, turning to park the car.

"This isn't something you can just do, Jungkook," you explain. "It's a big decision that has real consequences...have you talked to anyone about this?"

"No..." he mumbles, "You're the first one to know."

You sigh, putting a hand on his knee. Immediately, he stiffens under your hold so you begin to move away but he quickly takes a hold of your hand before you can. There's silence for a minute until you very awkwardly clear your throat.

"Jungkook," you begin, "Are you happy?"

"What do you mean?" His eyes widen at your very personal question.

"I mean...are you happy with what you're doing, is it your own decision or did something happen?" You switch your words around because you realize Jungkook probably wouldn't want to tell you something as personal as this.

He stays silent for a while, contemplating what to say, his eyes not leaving your hands, he intertwines his fingers with yours without thought. Your breath hitches but you don't pull away...it feels nice.

"I don't know," he admits, a little wistfully.

You frown and wait for him to continue, thumb rubbing soothing circles on his hand.

"I just think I'm doing something wrong, wasting my father's money...especially after-" he catches himself before he can tell you the extent of his problems. Clearing his throat, he looks away but doesn't let go of your hand. "It's nothing," he concludes.

"It isn't nothing," you defend him. "Jungkook, I understand if you're uncomfortable with me because we've never been close, but I want you to know that I'm here for you, okay?" You pass a reassuring smile at him. "I care about you a lot, you're like a...brother to me."

You feel gross lying to him like that but you need to put your needs aside, Jungkook's wellbeing is way more important than some sexual fantasy. But to your surprise, he doesn't respond the way you thought he would, at most you expected him to shyly laugh. Instead, his brows furrow, and he frowns. He doesn't say anything, just lets go of your hand and moves to get out of the car. You don't dwell on it too much because just then you receive a text from your mother.

Honey, I forgot the coffee your brother likes, would you please grab it on your way back?

"Hey, I'm going next door," you call out to Jungkook as you get out of the car. You're a little thankful that you don't have to be next to Jungkook because, right now, all you can think of the way he reacted. It was probably the most aggravated you'd seen him react in such close quarters. You quickly grab the brand of coffee Yoongi prefers and continue to browse the aisles of the store, not really paying attention to what you're looking at.

"Can't decide between boxers or briefs?" Jungkook chuckles and you flush a deep crimson.

You hadn't realized you were staring at men's underwear.

"...It's for Yoongi?" You grimace, already regretting your words as you're saying them.

Jungkook bursts into loud laughter, nose scrunching and all. You can't help but smile at that, glad that the tension has ebbed away.

"Okay, the jig is up!" You raise your hands in surrender. "...I wear men's underwear."

"That's sexy, noona," Jungkook grins leaning down so the two of you are eye to eye.

Your laugh dies in your throat because, once again, you find Jungkook in your personal space. You can't stop the way you inhale sharply, eyeing at how close his lips are to your own. He's so close, you can feel his breath on your skin, and you're sure he can feel yours on his too. It feels like forever before he moves back, but not before his own eyes fall down to your lips. The corners of his lips lightly lift in a smile smiles before he breaks the moment and walks towards the counter. You meekly follow behind, clutching the coffee tightly in your grasp, mind still reeling from what just happened.

You're dazed. The ride back doesn't even seem that long compared to the ride there. You lean back on your seat, head leaning against the window, focusing on the low hum of the music.

"You're wrong, noona," Jungkook says after a couple of silent minutes go by. You peer at him in question, silently urging him to continue.

"I'm not uncomfortable with you," he turns to look at you before eyeing the road again. You hum in acknowledgment, "That's nice to hear, Kook."

It's silent again but you hear Jungkook mumble something so softly you think you might've been mistaken.

"I care a lot about you too."

After the whole grocery store ordeal, you notice Jungkook begins to spend a little more time with you. He still retreats to Yoongi like before, but it's still progress in your books.

You're lounging around when Jungkook comes by and takes a seat close to you, he doesn't say anything but smiles in lieu of a greeting.

"What's up?" You ask, eyes not leaving your phone. Not that you're doing much on it anyway, you'd just gotten done feeding your virtual cats. "If you're waiting on Yoongi, he's out...probably with Namjoon," you continue.

"I wanted to spend time with you," Jungkook admits, a shy smile playing on his lips.

That's one thing you appreciate, as much as Jungkook has weakened your resolve a significant amount, there are still moments where you see the same lanky, shy boy you admire so much. Or maybe you just like to see him squirm.

"Sure, what do you wanna do?" You look away from your phone to smile at him. The two of you had hung out a handful of times after the car ride, and it ended up being quite nice. You realized that you two had a lot more in common than you originally thought.

"It's nice out today so why don't we go out for a walk?" He suggests.

"You trying to get me to exercise more, Jeon?" You tease, peering out the window to assess the damage you'll be suspecting yourself to.

“Come on, noona, you've been cooped up in here ever since you've come home,” Jungkook whines, poking at your side. “You're getting lazy.”

“Hey, I am not cooped up in here, and this is my vacation, I deserve to be lazy,” you playfully glare from your spot on the couch, laying back further so your legs are spread on his thighs.

He laughs but doesn't make you move your legs off him. Instead, he places his hands on your knees and slowly begins to massage them. You try to feign ignorance to his touch, to keep your eyes glued to anything but him or his hands but it becomes so difficult when one of his hands moves up to your thighs, fingers putting light pressure on the muscle as they slowly begin trailing up your legs.

You don't move, eyes transfixed to the way his fingers ghost the skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Even though you try to act like his touch doesn't affect you, your body immediately betrays you when a shudder wracks through you. And you swear you see the corners of Jungkook's mouth lift a little before you awkwardly cough, disrupting the moment.

"The only way you'll have me outside is if you carry me the whole way," you decide.

"I'll happily carry you, noona!" Jungkook laughs, grabbing your hand to pull you up. You greatly misjudge his strength and in a blink of an eye, he has you sitting up and trapped in his grasp. Your eyes widen in shock at your sudden close proximity and you nervously clear your throat before scampering to your feet.

"Let's go then," you briskly walk towards the entrance to put on your shoes.

Once you're standing on the street you grew up in, you turn back to Jungkook who had wordlessly followed your lead. "So, where are you taking me?"

Jungkook laughs nervously before taking ahold of your hand and dragging you towards the park at the end of the street.

"Are you seriously taking me to the park," you laugh as you let him drag you. His pace is faster than yours so you have to move quickly to keep up with his long legs.

"Jungkook! Hold on," you pant, pulling at his wrist to make him stop in his tracks. He looks back and flushes. “Sorry noona,” he responds, slowing his pace to walk in sync next to you but not letting go of your hand.

It’s when you reach the middle of the park that you let go and take a seat on one of the swings.

“God, I haven’t been here in so long,” you say, sitting limply on the swing.

“You haven’t been back in so long,” Jungkook says, taking a seat on the swing next to yours.

“Okay, that’s fair,” you quip, giving him a side-eye before smiling. “I had different plans for the future back then.”

“With Junho?” Jungkook asks, a little cautious when you don’t respond immediately.

“...Yeah,” you say, kicking your legs so you start swinging slowly.

“What happened between the two of you?” He asks, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me unless you want to,” he stammers, backpedaling a little.

“It’s okay, Kook,” you reassure him. “We just grew apart. Fell out of love, I guess,” you try to explain. “It was a good relationship but we were in different places in our lives, so we decided to break up. Simple,” you shrug.

“What about you, though,” you peer over to him. “You got stuff out of me, it’s your turn now.”

“That’s fair,” he chuckles, kicking his legs so he’s swinging too. “What do you want to know?”

“Why are you considering dropping out?” You turn to face him once the swing stops.

“Wow… you’re blunt, noona.”

“I don’t beat around the bush,” you sniff and wait for him to continue.

Jungkook chuckles, ruffling his hair, “I think I’m gonna end up being a disappointment.”

“Jungkook…” you begin, actually surprised to hear those words from him. “I don’t think you can be more wrong, you know Yoongi’s been telling me just how talented you are for years. He barely calls or texts when I’m not home and when he does, it’s always to tell me how proud he is of you.”

He’s silent for a while, letting the swing stop on its own before he looks up at you again. “Have you heard any of it?”

“I haven’t,” you respond, moving to get off the swing. “Come on, there’s a place I want to go to.”

You two walk towards the trees that line one side of the park, leading to a clearing surrounded by a thicker layer of foliage. It’s a comfortable sort of silence that sits between you as you make your way through the path. When you reach the familiar tree, you smile, moving to sit where you used to spend most of your evenings as a child, Jungkook gingerly taking a seat next to you.

“You remember this place,” he says after a few moments.

“Uh, this is my spot,” you clarify, pointing towards the tree bark where fourteen year old you had carved out your initials.

“Sorry to say, noona, but you’ve been gone too long,” Jungkook sniffs, motioning towards another carving on the tree trunk. You follow his movements and see another dull indentation of the initials “JK”, not far from your own.

“Jungkook, how could you!” You say trying to sound angry, even though the telltale signs of a smile started ghosting your lips. “How dare you not follow the sacred rules of finders keepers losers weepers!”

Jungkook laughs, shrugging. “It’s free real estate, plus I hung out here just as often as you did.”

“Oh yeah, this is where you’d follow me to and then ignore me all day,” you laugh, remembering all the times you’d sit by the tree to read whatever trashy romance novel you’d stolen from your friend’s mom’s closet and he’d come by, sitting on the opposite end, doing whatever he always did. You’d barely talk, you’d sometimes offer him a juice box and he’d sometimes place a peanut butter sandwich next to you before scurrying off. The both of you chuckle together, reminding each other of memories you’d shared there until you fall into another comfortable silence.

“I want to, by the way,” you say, when the sun starts to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. “Listen to your music,” you clarify when he raises a brow in question. “I know it’s a very personal thing to ask for, and even Yoongi barely lets me listen to his pieces, but I’d like to,” you smile, resting your hand on the plush grass, watching the way your fingers are swallowed by the long blades. “If you’d let me.”

Jungkook smiles, cheeks dusting a light pink before he places his hand on yours. “I’d like that.”

It's dark out by the time you get home but it feels like barely any time had passed. You're fairly certain that nobody's home but that doesn't stop you from calling out when you slip off your shoes.

"In here," you hear Yoongi's voice from the living room.

"Don't you have work tonight?" You ask when you spot him lounging on the sofa. You stop in your tracks when you notice Hoseok's presence.

"When did you get here?" You gush, running to crush him in a hug.

"Picked him up an hour ago," Yoongi responds before Hoseok can answer you, though you doubt he'd be able to because you still have him tight in your grasp.

"If you missed me this much, babe, why don't we take this to the bedroom?" Hoseok chuckles, swiftly dodging the pillow Yoongi throws his way. You laugh, used to Hoseok's incessant flirting, almost missing it.

"Why don't you take me right here, right now," you challenge, taking a seat.

"God, if you guys were gonna be fucking gross, I wouldn't have brought him here," Yoongi groans, grimacing at your shameless flirting.

"It's been a while, hyung," another voice calls, and that's when you remember Jungkook was here too. He's still standing in the doorway, face impassive, a clear contrast to how he was smiling at you just moments ago.

"Jungkook! How've you been?" Hoseok goes to give him a hug, you don't miss the way Jungkook's eyes meet yours in their embrace.

Hoseok promptly takes a seat next to you, grabbing your ankles so your legs rest over his lap.

"How long are you here for, Hobi?" You stretch your legs a little more.

"Hmm, probably for two weeks? I'm giving a class in the studio, also have to visit my sister."

"Oh, is Jiwoo still married?"

"Thankfully," he huffs, "Otherwise she'd be stuck up my ass all the time."

"That's a shame," you hum, "Let her know whenever she's ready to leave that husband of hers, I'll be waiting."

"So, you're gonna cheat on me...with my own sister?" He jokingly accuses, already closing the distance between the two of you.

“How else will I bring drama into my life?” You justify as he pulls you closer to grab hold of your waist and begin his attack.

Your cries are violent as you immediately thrash in his hold, tears streaming down your face as you can't hold back your laughter. In the midst of all the chaos, nobody notices Jungkook leave.

A couple of days go by and you don't see Jungkook as often anymore. Sure, you catch him doing some chores here and there but it's not the same. Shockingly, you've been significantly more productive these days with most of the list crossed out already. So, there's not much left to do. So you decide to do the first thing that comes to mind — barge into Yoongi's room. Surprisingly, he's awake and flinches when he hears the door burst open. You ignore his curses and ungracefully flop down on his bed.

"What do you want?" He sneers from his place on the desk, headphones propped away from his ears so he can hear you.

"I'm bored," you sniff, turning to face him.

"The fuck should I do then?"

"When did you get so boring?" You whine. "Let's get drunk or something...since Hoseok's here too," you reason.

"Yeah, we could..." he says, eyes going back to his laptop screen. "But I think I've seen you and Jung hook up enough to last me a lifetime."

"You know he'd blow you before he'd as much as kiss me," you challenge, laughing when he bristles at your words.

"Get the fuck out of my room!"

You easily dodge the balls of dirty socks he flings your way, laughing as you make your way out of his room.

It's a pleasant night and you find yourself sitting in your backyard once again, drinking wine you swiped from your mother's stash. It's quiet, and you're humming to yourself, enjoying the buzz of alcohol in your veins. That's when you see Jungkook in his own backyard and you wave him over, showcasing the bottle of wine as temptingly as you can.

"You know I got that for your mom," Jungkook takes a seat next to you, but still takes the bottle from you.

"Are you trying to woo my mother?" You raise an eyebrow, trying to bite back a smile.

"I plan on becoming your second dad by the end of the year," he takes a swig, grimacing at the bitter taste.

"Well, I'd suggest you get Pinot Noir and I guarantee you'll have her by the end of the month," you wink, taking the bottle back.

He laughs and the two of you settle into a comfortable silence, passing the bottle back and forth until it's half empty. The headiness of the wine finally gets to you and you begin to sway a little.

"Where were you?" You ask rather bluntly.

"I was here," he responds, confused at your sudden question.

"No," you sigh, pushing the stray hair out of your face. "I mean...were you avoiding me or something?"

"N-no," he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. "...Okay, maybe a little."

You scoff, appalled at his answer. "You know you could have just lied so I wouldn't feel bad," You sniff, turning away from him. "What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything, I just..." he clears his throat, and it feels like you're back at square one when he couldn't hold a conversation with you for the life of him. "I just needed some time."

"Oh," you respond, taking his words a little differently. "I get it, Kook, everyone needs time."

"Noona, I don't think you do," he sighs, not looking at you. "I've actually been meaning to talk to you for a while...I just-" He pauses when you put a reassuring hand on his knee, you would've aimed for his shoulder but you're practically slumped in your chair. He pauses, staring at your hand for a moment before he threads his fingers with yours, soothingly rubbing patterns on the back of your palm. You take the time to look at his face then, the way his hair bounces over his eyes, you can't help but follow the slope of his nose and direct your attention to his lips. You must be blatantly staring because he notices when you begin to sit up straight. You can't help yourself when your drunken mind can only focus on how beautiful he looks in the moonlight. His eyes also soften looking at you and you swear you catch his gaze drop to your lips.

"Noona," he whispers, "I-"

You swear he's moving closer and you can't help but lean in until you're only inches apart. Your breath hitches. "Yeah?" you ask, peering up at him. He gulps at your sudden close proximity, his eyes falling down to your lips before he catches your gaze once again.

"Noona, I-" He begins again but he's cut off by your blaring ringtone which somehow is still Apple Bottom Jeans like it's been for the past eight years. You almost fall back trying to answer the call, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"H-Hoseok!" you shout. "Shit, I was gonna call you later, wait, Jungkook's here too let me put you on speaker!"

"Kook! Where've you been?" Hoseok's voice drifts over, a little static from the signal.

"Ah, just busy, hyung," Jungkook meekly replies.

"Don't work yourself too hard, kid," Hoseok chuckles, "Enjoy your youth!"

"Stop talking like you're an old man, it makes me feel old," you tease, "Jungkook's a good kid so the last thing he needs is you to influence him." You reach out to ruffle Jungkook's hair affectionately but he doesn't return your affection with a smile as you expected, instead, you see his jaw clench before he lets go of your hand.

"Oh, so you think I'm a bad influence?" Hoseok asks, trying to sound appalled. "When you sound drunk, ___, did you give the kid alcohol?"

"No," you hiccup. "Technically he gave it to my mom and I stole it from her!"

"Who's really the bad influence then, babe," Hoseok laughs.

You lean back in your chair, drunkenly laughing.

“But listen,” Hoseok continues once you've calmed down. “I’m calling because I heard someone can't get enough alcohol in her system.”

“So drinking my problems away is wrong when I do it?”

“Aw, you can drink as much as you want, babe,” Hoseok chuckles. “Namjoon and I are throwing a party at your request.”

“Wait,” you jolt up. “You got Namjoon to agree? Mr. I have a 9 to 5 job and too many Bonsai tree children to feed.”

“Well...it’s more of a hangout,” his voice changing in pitch at the last word. “But I’m sure I can pull some strings for you...I can do anything for you, babe,” Hoseok adds, still laughing at your Namjoon impression

“Mm, that sounds hot Jung,” you coolly respond, moving to take another swig of wine but you can't find the bottle. When you turn to ask Jungkook, you see him taking a long swig, finishing off the remaining wine.

“Jungkook that doesn’t come cheap, you know?” You berate, frowning at the lack of wine in the bottle.

“I know,” he huffs, leaning back on the dock chair. “I am the one who bought it."

"Will I be expecting to see you there, kid?" Hoseok's voice calls out. "Because it seems like you need a drink too."

"Yeah, sure," Jungkook responds. "See you later, hyung, I'm heading out."

"Wait, Jungkook," you call out with a playful lilt to your tone. "You're leaving after you buy a girl a drink? That's not how it goes!"

To your dismay, Jungkook doesn't turn back or even acknowledge you as he walks back to his side of the fence.

"Don't tease him, ___," you hear Hoseok's laugh from the static of your phone, making you flinch at your forgotten company.

"So it's okay when you do it but not when I do it?" You repeat your earlier words. "You know what they call that, Jung? Sexism."

"No, you dumbass," Hoseok groans. "I mean don't lead him on."

"Wait what?" You sputter. "How are you calling me a dumbass when you're the one saying something like that!"

"Come on, ___," Hoseok sighs. "The kid literally wears his heart on his sleeve, it's harder not to notice."

"Why do I feel too drunk for this but also in need of a drink after hearing this," you groan, leaning back. "Don't play tricks on a woman when she's drunk, Hoseok. You should know this."

"That's called alcoholism," Hoseok easily responds. "And ___, trust me, everyone can see it. But I guess you're just not ready to have that conversation."

You're at a loss for words after hearing that. What the fuck? You're brought out of your panicked thoughts when your phone vibrates in your hand, only then realizing that Hoseok had hung up on you.

"That damn Aquarius," you mumble to yourself as you scroll through your phone to check the aforementioned text message.

Hoseok [23:18]: Everyone can see you too, but you aren't ready for that conversation either.

“___,” you hear your mother call. “Can you give this to Jungkook before he leaves?”

"He's here?" You peer over your mother's shoulder as she packs dinner for him inside some tupperware. "I haven't seen him around."

"Oh he mentioned coming by to see Yoongi, as usual, he should be in his room I suppose," she hands you the box before making her way out of the kitchen. "And remind Yoongi to eat something, he's been cooped up in his room all day!"

You begrudgingly make your way to Yoongi's bedroom, knowing well that he dislikes it when you barge in when he's working so you decide to do the decent thing, and barge in.

"What the fuck do you want now?" He seethes, whipping his head around to glare at you. You mindlessly peer around his room and huff. "Jungkook's not here?"

"No," Yoongi says, turning back to face the glowing screen of his computer once more. "He didn't show today."

"Huh," you hum. "Well, don't rot away in front of your computer screen, take a shower," you scrunch your nose in disgust. "And eat something so you don't die before you get to drunkenly make out with Hoseok."

You're quick to make your exit before you can hear Yoongi's retort. You end up busying yourself in your room for the next couple of hours, humming the tune you've heard come out of Yoongi's room for the past two days as you work, happy that you're actually getting something done for a change. It's when you lean back to stretch your stiff back that you realize that the sun is close to setting.

"So you showered," you grin at Yoongi when you enter the kitchen. Leaning down next to him, you steal some food off his plate. He passes you a glare before shoveling more into his mouth. "Jungkook still not here?" You ask, looking for the tupperware your mom had given you earlier.

It's Yoongi's turn to smirk now. "Why do you care so much?"

You snort at his words, "I'm just asking because mom told me to give him some dinner. Guess I'll have to go next door."

"Yeah the only dinner you'll be serving him is your —"

You've shut the door before Yoongi can finish that sentence, grateful that he doesn't get to see the growing blush on your cheeks.

You peer over to Jungkook's backyard, hoping to see him outside but it's empty. Huffing about the fact that you'll have to go to his house, the conversation you had with Hoseok still running in the back of your mind.

Shaking yourself out of it, you trudge your way across the fence but you once again find yourself nervous. Nervous that you're going to be seeing him.

You hadn't seen Jungkook much after the night you'd gotten drunk together. You'd think he was purposefully avoiding you, but you also know that he'd been helping his father with work for the past few days and had seen him through the window once or twice. Other than that, you'd had no contact with him.

You frown, standing outside the back entrance of the house, unsure of what you should do.

Confused about whether you should go to the front door and ring the doorbell or just go through the backdoor, leave the food in the kitchen and make a prompt exit. You snort, what the hell were you doing? This nervousness was so unlike you, you're always the one with the upper hand, you're an adult for god's sake, and you're far above this coy behavior. With a sudden burst of confidence, you push back your doubts and quickly find yourself inside the kitchen. Peering around, you don't spot Jungkook anywhere, not even his parents but that's not out of the ordinary, they're usually not home around this time anyway. You decide to leave the food out in the living room instead, where he'll spot it quicker. Deciding to send a quick text letting him know that you stopped by, you're about to leave until you're stopped in your tracks.

It's a dull thump that causes you to pause, making you peer in the direction of the noise in confusion. It's repetitive, coming from down the hall. Jungkook's probably working out, you think to yourself. His muscles didn't just pop out of nowhere after all. Deciding to walk further, you're met with a sliver of light falling on the floor, faintly lighting up the otherwise dark hallway.

That's when you hear it.

You're far too close when you realize — you would have never come if you had known (you tell yourself). Though you don't stop walking until you see the girl who's caught your attention. Her wails much clearer now that you're closer. "F-fuuuck, Jungkook," she cries, voice breaking at every syllable.

Jungkook is towering over her form, legs propped on his shoulder as he pushes into her. His occasional grunts taking away your focus, his voice reverberating through the walls and sending shivers down your spine. It takes all of your strength to keep standing at the scene, your mind screaming at you to make a move, to leave but your body stays rooted in place, taking in every detail of the scene in front of you. You're too shocked to take a breath as you see the way his muscles flex at every movement he makes, the way he so easily contorts the girl's body, drilling into her as she shrieks in pleasure. Soon enough, he has her flipped over on all fours with great ease, her head pushing down into the mattress. Your eyes barely rest on her until your eyes find their way back to him. A wrack of shivers goes down your spine once again when you notice the way begins plowing into her, with even more vigor than before. The way his jaw is clenched, letting out a grunt every time his cock is deeply lodged into her. Your eyes follow the sweat dripping down his forehead, down to his neck, following down until you see the ridges of his built form. When you look up to him again, it takes all your power not to fall down to your knees when you realize that he's looking right at you.

You gasp when he pushes her head further down into the mattress, her moans now muffled by the linen underneath. His grunts are the only thing you can hear now, sounding deep and guttural every time he pushes back in. His pace is faster, stronger and it feels like you can feel the way his cock pushes in. The way he's looking at you, it's like he's fucking you and not the girl who's currently blubbering underneath him.

Your thighs rub together at the sudden need for friction. Jungkook's eyes follow your movements, a smirk filling his features. "You like the way I'm fucking you?" He asks through clenched teeth, pushing into the hilt and pressing his pelvis into the back of her thighs.

"Mmf, yes," the girl grits out. "I love the way your cock is fucking me!"

Although she's the one answering him, you know the question was directed to you as his eyes haven't left you yet, even for a second. His hum of approval has your knees shaking and you swear your panties are sticking to you uncomfortably. You're shocked you haven't made a sound even though your breathing is labored, heart-rate accelerated. You must have gone completely insane to still be standing here when you know Jungkook is aware of your presence.

"Jungkook!" The girl cries, her legs shaking. "I'm gonna cum!"

"Come on, baby girl," Jungkook grunts, pushing into her even further. "Cum all over my cock."

It's like you're in a trance, following the way he moves his hands between her legs, making her cries get louder and shakier. At this point, its Jungkook holding the poor girl up as he drills into her. Her moans increase in pitch and it would honestly bother you but you're far too distracted looking at Jungkook that you don't even notice her cum. It's only when his own hips stutter and his head falls back that you get ahold of yourself.

As quietly as you can, with shaky knees, you make it out of his house and back to your room. Your heart hammering in your chest because you just saw Jungkook fuck the life out of some girl. Oh my god, you just saw Jungkook fuck the life out of some girl! Jungkook, your neighbour, the kid who idolizes your brother. Jungkook, who was always too shy to talk to you, who'd always get red-faced when you were around. Jungkook, who works out in his backyard. Jungkook, who sometimes holds your hand. Jungkook, who apparently can fuck the soul out of you. You shudder at that thought, your mind reeling from what you just witnessed, the wetness between your thighs still evident. You shake yourself away from wandering thoughts, you can't, you chastise yourself as you bury your face into your pillow. But the image of him doesn't stray from your mind and you feel like your body is working on overdrive, your nerves so sensitive that you can't help but shakily place a hand between your thighs.

"Yoongi's been complaining that you've been inside more than usual," Hoseok takes a seat next to you when you find yourself lounging around your house yet again.

"I've been busy," you quip, eyes not leaving the textbook in your lap.

"Come on!" Hoseok laughs, "Your lack of flirting is worrying, what's up?"

At your non-committal hum of acknowledgment, he yanks the textbook, prying it away from your grabby hands.

"If it takes me longer to graduate, it's going to be your fault, Hoseok," you groan, folding your arms across your chest after a feeble attempt to get your book back.

"___, why are you studying when you're on vacation," he raises an eyebrow. "More importantly, when I'm here?"

"Clearly, you've mistaken me for someone who gives a shit about you, Jung," you retort, "I've been using you to get to your sister this whole time."

Hoseok scoffs at your refusal to comply before bringing a backpack to his lap. That piques your interest as you raise your eyebrow expectantly.

"What's in there?"

"I was going to give this to you as a peace offering, but you're being a little bitch," Hoseok sniffs, taking out a bottle of vodka from the bag.

"I think you're the one pushing me towards alcoholism, Jung," you snort but pause when he takes out a carton of cranberry juice.

"Don't act like you're not the one who got us all booze with your fake ID in high school," he laughs, raising the bottle in his hand. "So let's commemorate and drink cranberry vodka like a bunch of freshmen."

You stare him down for a while before a smile slowly creeps up on your lips.

"God, I really need to stop using alcohol as a crutch," you grin before taking the bottle from his hand.

It's after you've drunk almost half the bottle between the two of you that Yoongi comes home, groaning as he takes off his shoes to announce his arrival.

"Get in here, you toad," you drunkenly giggle, almost sliding off your couch in between. "I have two surprises for you!"

Yoongi slowly makes his way into the living room, a scowl on his face at your obvious inebriated state.

"I'm here. Now give me a drink," he says, making you move so he can wedge himself between you and Hoseok.

"Surprise number one!" You say, handing him a haphazard mixture of vodka and cranberry juice. "And surprise number two!" You shove him lightly so he's even closer to Hoseok. You giggle as he nudges you with his elbow.

"Hoseok's helping me drink my problems away," you say, moving to the adjacent couch when Yoongi won't let you drape your legs across his.

"What problems, noona?" You hear from the doorway and immediately stiffen.

There is none other than Jungkook, standing at the entrance, innocently smiling at you before he makes his way into the living room.

"Oh yeah, Jungkook's here too," Yoongi says, sipping on his drink and grimacing before shooting you a nasty glare for not putting in enough juice.

"I hope you guys don't mind," Jungkook says before sitting on the couch you're on, a little too close for comfort.

"What were you guys doing?" Hoseok asks, taking Jungkook's attention away from you.

"Yoongi hyung was treating me to dinner for finishing a song," Jungkook says, showcasing his teeth while smiling.

At that moment, you decide that Jungkook is the devil incarnate. He has the audacity to look like the sweet, innocent, helpful Jungkook you've known your whole life. But you know the truth, you know how he is anything but that. You can see through his facade easily, how he has everyone fooled.

He shifts in his spot, causing him to bump his thigh with yours and you immediately clamp your legs shut and move away from him, leaning as close to the corner of the sofa as you can get. You hear him huff but he maintains his distance. Even though there’s about a person’s gap between the two of you, you can still feel the heat radiating from his body.

"You know glaring at your empty cup won't put more alcohol in it," Yoongi says, finishing his own drink before moving to make himself another.

"Uh, yeah," you say, distracted still as you pour a hefty amount of vodka in your cup.

"Slow down, babe," Hoseok snorts at your antics. "What's got your panties in a twist."

"Please don't talk about my sister's panties when I'm here," Yoongi groans.

"He means don't talk about my panties when you can talk about his panties," you smirk, settling back down on the sofa.

"What if I want to talk about your panties, ___?" Comes Jungkook's whispered voice next to you, his breath hitting your neck and you almost choke on your drink, coughing loudly.

"Are you okay, noona?" Jugkook asks, loud enough for everyone to hear this time. "Here, drink some water."

You begrudgingly accept the offered cup and gulp it down so you don't have to look at his face and just recall the way he was looking at you the other night.

"Look at Jungkookie taking care of his noona!" Hoseok drunkenly giggles, slapping Yoongi's arm to get his attention. Hoseok's intentions are as clear as day and you're not amused. You feel even more on edge now, knowing that even Yoongi was in on it — if the smirk on his face was anything to go by.

You hear Jungkook laugh beside you and put an arm around your waist. You jolt up at the contact, feeling extremely sober suddenly.

"Uh...I'm going to the kitchen. Bye," you stammer and run towards your safe haven.

He's the devil, you can't believe you hadn't noticed it before.

"It really is all men," you mutter to yourself, pacing in the kitchen.

"I take it either you and Jungkook finally fucked or that you and Yoongi are fighting...which isn't new or exciting so please tell me you and Jungkook finally fucked," Hoseok says casually as he leans onto the kitchen island.

"No we did not...and will you keep your voice down?" You whisper-shout, peeking into the living room to make sure nobody heard him.

"Then why are you here talking to yourself like a madwoman, are you trying to prove that there are ghosts in this house again because that's not funny and I will scream."

"God, I wish my ghost boyfriend was still here...I miss Taemin," you groan, taking Hoseok's cup and downing it in one go. "He wouldn't torture me like this...why did he have to cross over?"

"You really need to get laid," Hoseok dryly comments. "Especially if you're pining over a clearly non-existent boyfriend."

"Oh my god, Hoseok!" You say, eyes wide as you quickly turn to face him. He flinches ready to get hit with the plastic cup in your hand but instead, you grab both of his shoulders and pull him closer.

"You're right! I do need to get laid...that explains everything," you let go of him and start pacing again. "But the question now is...who?"

"That's easy-"

"Don't you fucking dare, Jung Hoseok," you interrupt, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Don't even try."

"I'm just stating the viable options here."

"I would take this from you any other day, but right now, I need you to help me set up a dick appointment."

"God, we're both not drunk enough for this conversation...and I'm pretty sure I'm seeing double right now," Hoseok slurs a little to accentuate his drunken state.

"It can't be you...because Yoongi would annihilate me," you begin to mutter your thoughts out loud, "Obviously Jungkook is a no go, that's just my sex-deprived brain malfunctioning."

"So you admit it!" Hoseok excitedly shouts, pointing at you with his eyes wide.

"No, shut up!" You gape, pausing in your tracks.

"Something happened, you don't do that weird saying your thoughts out loud thing unless something happened," Hoseok grins. "And don't think I didn't hear that little panties comment he made."

Fuck, it really be your own that betray you, and for you, it's your stupid inebriated self.

"Okay, if I tell you what happened," you begin, inching closer to him. "You have to promise not to laugh at me."

"You know I'm a whore for gossip," he smiles, leaning back to the counter.

"Okay..." You begin, nervously peering at the entrance to make sure that you're both alone. "I may have seen..." You purposefully keep your voice as low as a whisper, as a further precaution. "Jungkook...fucking a girl... and I can't stop thinking about it Hoseok, so you understand the severity of the situation."

He stares at you blankly as his drunken mind processes what you had said to him before, his eyes comically wide, and he barks out a loud laugh.

"Hoseok you promised you wouldn't laugh!" You sniff, looking at him with pleading eyes in hopes that he'll take pity on you.

He doesn't.

"Okay, you can't tell me something like that and not give me details... How much did you see? Did you see his dick? What's he like in bed?"

Hoseok's busy listing out detailing questions but you can't hear him anymore as your cheeks heat up at a significant pace when your mind starts to wander...

"Oh my god!" Hoseok balks at you. "You saw all of it didn't you!"

You don't respond, only gulp nervously when your mouth gets too dry.

"Shit, ___, not gonna lie... That's so hot." You see his eyes beginning to crinkle and scamper to shut him up before the man in question hears that you're currently talking about him getting his dick wet in front of you.

Unfortunately, luck hasn't been on your side for the past couple of days.

"What's hot?" Jungkook says as he peeks his head in the entrance before making his way to where you are awkwardly holding onto Hoseok.

"Kim Taehyung!" You shout the name abruptly before you can even think of an excuse.

"Huh?" Jungkook tilts his head and you have to inhale deeply at the way his hair flops with his movement. Demon, you remind yourself.

"I invited Taehyung to the party this weekend, ___ thinks he's hot," Hoseok winks at you before looking back at Jungkook.

You look between the two of them before quickly stammering, "Uh, yeah! He's really hot... totally fuckable!"

Jungkook looks at you, his face blank before he hums. "I see," he says, before turning to Hoseok. "Yoongi hyung was calling you."

Hoseok passes you an apologetic look before grinning wildly and making his exit — effectively leaving you alone with Jungkook. Fucking Aquarius bastard.

You awkwardly clear your throat when you notice Jungkook silently looking at you.

"So, Kim Taehyung?" He asks, slowly stepping closer to you.

"Yeah," you stutter, "...Kim Taehyung," backing away from him until the back of your legs hit the counter.

"What about him?" He smirks, eyeing you down and you have to peer up at him to maintain eye contact. Fuck when did he get so tall?

"You know..." you begin, "he's a good looking guy...what can a girl do?" You grimace at your words as they leave your lips but Jungkook doesn't react, just keeps his lazy smirk.

"Hmm… what can a girl do?" He grins, leaning down so he's face to face with you, his breath hitting your face. Your eyes widen before they fall to his lips and your mouth goes dry. You subconsciously lick your lips and his own eyes follow your movements before he moves towards the left to grab a spare mug that was sitting behind you on the counter.

He doesn't wait for your response before he's making his way out of the kitchen and back to the living room to Yoongi and Hoseok... and alcohol. God, you need more alcohol but you really can't make yourself sit in his presence anymore.

"Fuck Jungkook," you angrily mutter as you make your way back to your bedroom before groaning at the choice of words. You slam the door in the midst of your frustrations before launching yourself on the bed.

"I can't believe booze has failed me," you mumble into your pillow before falling into an alcohol-induced sleep.

"You can cancel your party," you say over the phone, in lieu of a greeting right as Hoseok picks up. "I'm quitting alcohol."

"I'm guessing you didn't hydrate last night," Hoseok responds, sounding much better than you.

"I couldn't and you know it!" You seethe, soothing your aching head after downing two pills of aspirin. "Anyway, how do you sound okay, I'm sure you drank way more than me."

"I may or may not have puked my guts out an hour after you left," Hoseok admits, sounding a little ashamed.

"It's what you deserve," you remark blandly, making your way out to the backyard where the warm sun welcomed you. You groan in appreciation of the warm dock chair as you get comfortable. It's only when you open your eyes again, you see Jungkook working out in his backyard once again.

"If there's a god," you mutter to yourself, "When will you let me catch a break?"

"What's up?" you hear Hoseok ask over some crackling, probably making himself breakfast.

"The bane of my existence this summer..." you whisper just in case Jungkook doesn't over-hear even though he's clearly out of earshot — but you can never be too cautious.

"Our little Jungkookie's working out isn't he," Hoseok snickers, "Why don't you just sit back and enjoy the show?"

You hum, "You know what, Hoseok?" you say thoughtfully. "Maybe you're right... maybe I can get some sort of sexual gratification by just staring at him... doing those pull-ups... and then I'll get it out of my system" You silently watch the way his muscles flex every time he does one, getting a full view of those godly pectoral muscles because he decided to forgo a shirt today.

"Clearly, it’s working," Hoseok snorts.

You groan loudly, "It's not fair Hoseok! When did he get the upper hand, how did I let this happen?"

"Come on, ___, you seriously thought Jungkook was gonna stay coy this whole time? The kid's got game, you'd know if you’d come home more often."

"Don't say that! Don't call him a kid when I saw what I saw!" You angrily whisper into the phone.

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy the show." You can practically hear the god-awful smirk accompanying Hoseok's tone.

"This is why men don't deserve rights," you mutter, still angrily staring at Jungkook finishing up his work-out. "Anyway," you sniff, "you owe me a favor."

"And what is that?" He chuckles.

"Call Taehyung to the party for me."

"Oh? So now you're coming to the party?" Hoseok asks. "I thought you swore off alcohol...well you lasted ten minutes, I'm proud of you."

"Just invite him, will you?"

You’ve managed to successfully avoid Jungkook, occasionally seeing him around the house but your plan was foolproof: flee. But it’s the day of the party and your otherwise foolproof plan is going to fail, because he’ll be there, and you’ll be there, in the same space.

Hoseok [9:45]: I won’t let u in unless u have at least one bottle of booze with u.

Hoseok [9:57]: That was Namjoon but yeah, the rule still stands.

“I thought this party was for me,” you mutter to yourself as you make your way up the stairs, pulling on your dress nervously after every couple of steps.

You pause when you reach the apartment, a dull throb of music cascading through the walls, staying still for a while before kicking the door once to announce your arrival.

A few seconds go by and you’re ready to kick again but the door swings open to a clearly drunk Namjoon, cradling a bonsai tree close to his chest.

“___!” He grins, pulling you into a tight hug but he misjudges and proceeds to stuff your face in his pit. You awkwardly stand in his grip, letting him hug it out because it’s been a while since you’ve seen him

“Thank god you shower regularly,” you grin at him when he lets you go. “I come bearing gifts,” you hold up the lone bottle in your hand. “So, please put my coat in Hoseok’s room for me.”

“Tequila...” Hoseok slithers his way in at the mention of alcohol. “Someone’s here to make regrets!”

“It’s silver so you better have lemons in your kitchen,” you push past him and are met with enough people to be considered a party and not the hang-out Namjoon had planned.

“So I take it your persuasion worked,” you look at Hoseok as you make your way into the kitchen.

“I told you I’d do anything for you, babe, do I ever disappoint?”

“Okay, get off your high horse,” you jab, rolling your eyes. “Alcohol please,” you cup your palms in front of your chest.

“___,” Hoseok rolls his eyes. “It’s like one foot away from you. Make your own drink.”

“I don’t have my research on me right now but I have proven that your drinks get me drunk faster,” you sniff. “So, alcohol please.”

Once you’ve downed two shots of tequila and now nurse once of Hoseok’s special drinks, you happily stroll to the living room where you’re met with Yoongi and Namjoon, bonsai plant still in hand.

“What is he doing?” You ask Yoongi in lieu of a greeting as you wedge your way between the two of them on the sofa.

“I’m cradling my daughter,” Namjoon sniffs, gripping the plant closer to his chest. “She can’t fall asleep otherwise.”

You pass Yoongi a look who just shrugs. “I think you have more pressing matters at hand, ___,” he says cocking his head to the side. You follow his line of sight and curse under your breath.

Lo and behold, Jungkook is already there, surrounded by a bunch of people you recognize as his friends, not like you could recognise anyone besides Park Jimin...and the girl you saw him fucking who is busy clinging onto his arm and laughing at something he just said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say taking a large gulp of your drink. “Anyway, is Taehyung here?”

“Oh god,” Yoongi groans. “Don’t tell me you got Namjoon to agree to a party just so you could schedule a booty call with Taehyung, you know you could just text him instead of orchestrating a giant ruse.”

“Hey, this ruse is for you and Hoseok to get down and dirty too, I’m doing you a service,” you sniff, downing the rest of your drink. At the rate you’re going, you’re pretty sure you’ll blackout but sneaking a glance at Jungkook again, makes you forgo your concerns and move to get yourself another drink.

“Long Island iced tea?” You hear and turn around, drink sloshing in your cup. “You haven’t changed,” Taehyung smiles, eyeing the drink in your hand.

“Kim Taehyung!” You smile, tipsy already, and move to hug him, burying your head in his neck. “Why did everyone go through a growth spurt and not tell me,” you sniff when you fall back onto the heels of your feet.

“I like towering over you though,” he easily says, taking ahold of your waist and pulling you towards him. “Come dance with me.”

You easily agree, letting him move you to the living room where a couple of people were dancing to the music. You’ve never been a good dancer, always the one with two left feet but get some alcohol in you and suddenly your body just knows. Sure, you can’t call what you’re doing dancing, moving more towards fucking with your clothes on, if the thigh Taehyung has wedged between your legs and the way he’s gliding you on it has anything to go by.

You thank alcohol for giving you the confidence that surges through your body when you feel a twitch against your own thigh, making you smirk. The two of you dance to the music for a couple more minutes until he bends down, lips touching the shell of your ear. “Meet me on the balcony in five, yeah?”

“I thought you’d never ask, Kim,” you pull away. “Let me go grab my coat.”

You’re quick to whirl around, moving towards Hoseok’s room, giggling to yourself at the prospect of your plan coming to fruition. Maybe this will let you see clearly and not drool thinking about Jungkook anymore. Clearly, you just need to get a good dicking down and Jungkook will be Jungkook again.

Thankfully Hoseok’s room is unlocked and empty, you peer around the dark in search of your coat.

A hoe never gets cold but she does need her jacket when she has to make a quick run for it, just in case.

You aren’t there for long when you hear the door open again.

“I thought you said to meet on the balcony,” you laugh, turning around but your laughter dies in your throat when you realise it’s not Taehyung standing behind you.

“Jungkook?” You stutter, “what are you doing here?”

“You know, ___,” Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek as he stalks his way towards you. “Hoseok I kind of understood… but Kim Taehyung?”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” You stutter, all the alcohol running through your veins suddenly evaporating.

“I’m tired of playing games, ___,” Jungkook responds, ignoring your question. “I don’t want to hear any excuses anymore.”

“What do you mean, Jungkook?” You shrink under his gaze. He looks so different right now like a whole different person.

“I mean,” Jungkook chuckles, stepping closer as you inch back, the back of your thighs hit Hoseok’s desk. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

“Jungkook!” You shriek, “Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t want to f-fuck me.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath and immediately bends down so his face is a mere inch away from your own. “Oh, you have no idea just how much I want you, ___,” Jungkook says, his eyes falling to your lips. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you. And I know you want me too.”

In a blink of an eye, he’s lifted you up and seated you on Hoseok’s desk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you let out, eyes wide when you see the look in his eyes, the way his eyes roam your body with this innate hunger.

“Stop kidding yourself, ___. Don’t pretend like you didn’t see anything,” he says, leaning so close to you that he’s all you can see. Everything about him is so different now, it’s surprising that you just recently noticed the raw sexual appeal Jungkook exuded. You nervously lick your lips when you find his gaze drifting down once again, trailing your body with hunger you now recognize as the look he gave you when you found him fucking that girl a couple of days ago.

“It’s okay, noona,” he chuckles, the word sounding nothing but condescending coming out of his mouth this time. “I like being watched.”

"J-Jungook!" you gasp, shocked at his obscene words. He's so close to your vicinity that you're unable to think straight.

“And it looks like you like to watch, don’t you noona?” He teases, his hand gripping your waist to hold you into place.

“Tell me, noona,” he asks, licking his lips and you shudder when you see the wet sheen of saliva coat his lips. “Did you touch yourself that night? Did you get off to me fucking her?”

Without thinking, you find yourself nodding to his words, eyes wide, breathing hard and shallow. He groans, separating your legs to wedge himself between your thighs. He’s so close, pressing his body into yours, and you let him, gripping his shoulders to press him even closer to you.

“Do you even know what you do to me, ___?” He groans into your neck. He presses his hips into your stomach. “Do you feel what you’re doing to me?”

You whimper, feeling the thick shaft of his dick pressing into your skin. All too soon, the feeling is gone and he’s standing back looking at you with half-lidded eyes.

“Take off your clothes.”

You don’t even hesitate and slip your dress off, left only in a pair of lace panties. Jungkook groans at the sight, palming himself through his jeans. His eyes roaming your body, from the swell of your breasts down to the lacy material of your panties.

“Didn’t even wear a bra, you’re so naughty noona,” Jungkook smirks, shamelessly eyeing your breasts.

“I want to know what you did.”

“W-what?” You ask, peering up at him with confusion.

“I want to see how you touched yourself thinking about me.”

You shudder under his watchful gaze and you let out a shaky breath.

“Go on then.”

You slowly inch your hands down your body, sliding down your panties gently enough that they stick to the wetness of your core. You hear Jungkook curse under his breath at the sight.

“So wet, and I haven't even touched you,” he looks entranced, the way his eyes widen at the scene between your legs.

“You did this,” you mumble, swirling the wetness of your folds and spreading it across the expanse of your pussy. Biting your lips when your finger grazes your clit.

Jungkook moves to take a seat on the chair, getting a better view of your fingers working on yourself.

You ghost your fingers across your clit, breath shuddering every time the movement sends small a small wave of shock through your body. You should feel embarrassed, being watched so closely but the fact that Jungkook is here, watching you so intently just eggs you on. You circle your finger along your entrance as another gush of arousal flows through, glistening the tips of your fingers, and you gather the wetness, shoving it back in. A small moan leaves your lips when you curl a finger inside yourself.

"You're doing so well, noona," Jungkook whispers. His jeans are unbuttoned but he doesn't bother touching himself, too busy watching you. And you're in awe of him yourself, biting your lips as you slowly begin to grind onto your finger, slowly adding another digit. You shudder when you scissor them inside of yourself, your legs beginning to close into themselves but Jungkook pushes them apart, so he doesn't miss a single movement.

"Fuck, fuck! Jungkook," you gasp, "It feels so good!"

Your movements begin to get more erratic, faster as you start to lose yourself to the pleasure. Your thighs twitching when you press onto your clit. You sputter when you add another finger, slowing down your movements to get used to the pleasant feeling of feeling so full.

"J-Jungkook!" You moan out, your other hand reaching to grab ahold of the one that's grabbing your thigh, "I'm gonna-"

"Are you cumming already, ___?" He tilts his head, looking at you with a teasing smirk. "Did you enjoy the show that much?"

"Yes!" You grit out, biting your lips as you fuck yourself. "Wanna feel you so bad!"

You groan, hips lifting off the desk when you crook all three fingers inside of you, thumb rubbing against your clit. "Jungk- fuck, I'm cumming!" You cry out before your words taper off to strangled moans. You keep fucking yourself until you've ridden out the waves of your orgasm, panting by the time you come down from your high.

When you lazily open your eyes, you find Jungkook's eyes wide, staring between your legs.

"Fuck," he says before he peers up at you. "That was the hottest thing I've seen in my whole life." Before you can respond he's shoving his head between your legs and licking a long stripe up your slit before he latches onto your clit and begins to suck gently.

"Ah, Jungkook," you groan, head falling back and hitting the wall behind you. "It's too much Jungkook," you whimper, feeling oversensitive from your orgasm but he doesn't listen, eagerly lapping up your release like a man starved. He groans when his tongue probes at your hole, fucking it with shallow thrusts, sucking up the wetness. "Noona, you taste so good," he groans before diving back in. The oversensitivity has you sobbing, tears falling down your cheeks but you still find yourself pressing yourself against his tongue as hard as you can. The fact that it's Jungkook’s head between your legs has you tumbling towards a second orgasm at an embarrassingly fast pace. Without warning, the tight coil snaps once more and you're coming undone, grinding yourself onto his tongue, moaning out his name. This only spurs him further as he licks into you with even more vigor, lapping up whatever dribbles out of you like it's his only life source.

When the waves of pleasure settle down, you slump against the wall, utterly spent. Your thighs still twitching at the intensity of your orgasm.

"Fuck," Jungkook mutters, looking up at you, his breath hitched. You gasp when you notice his lips, cheeks, and chin dripping with your release. "You're so fucking hot," he mutters before moving to stand up. He strips himself of his shirt quickly, and your eyes widen once more over how toned his body is. You shamelessly ogle his body, eyes following the ridges of his muscles.

"When did you turn into such a muscle pig," you scoff when he flexes.

"Feels good when you cream yourself watching me work out in the backyard," Jungkook chuckles. You bristle at his words, flushing a deep crimson.

"You noticed?"

"Why do you think I put on such a show, noona?" He winks before he's standing close to you once again. "Now be a good girl, and suck me off."

You're quick to pull his jeans down, grateful that he had undone the button earlier, you're sure you would have fumbled with it the way your hands are shaking in anticipation.

The moment his cock is free from its confines, your eyes widen. It's a mouth-watering sight. His cock beautifully glistens as precum leaks out of the tip, sliding down the curved shaft and you lick your lips, following the trail with your eyes. Gingerly, you grab the shaft, spreading the wetness on the head and he hisses when your thumb digs into the slit. At his reaction you grow more bold, kissing a line on the side of his length, licking his skin more and more after each kiss. When you reach the head, you press another kiss on the tip before encasing it between your lips, swirling your tongue before you suckle on it lightly.

"F-fuck, ___!" Jungkook hisses. "Be a good girl and take it all in, okay?"

You easily comply, slowly sinking on his length, inch by inch you swallow his length as far as you can go before going back up to catch your breath. Once you get used to the length and the thick girth, you loosen your jaw and eagerly stuff him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you take him in.

"Oh god, you're doing so well, baby," Jungkook grits, taking a hold of the hair that falls onto your face. His praise just makes you more eager and you go even further until your nose touches his pelvis. You stay in that position, nose hitting the base of his cock, and you inhale deeply, groaning when the heady scent invades your senses. Tears stream down your face as your throat constricts, jaw aching from the girth but feeling the weight of his cock on your tongue makes you moan. Jungkook's head falls back when he feels you moan around his cock, and when he finds you peering up at him with wide eyes, teary from the abuse of his dick, his cock twitches in your mouth.

"I'm gonna fuck your face now, can you take it?" He asks, pulling your face back by your hair and you nod eagerly.

"I didn't know you were such a cockslut, noona," Jungkook grins before he shoves his length down your throat. You immediately choke but he doesn't relent, shoving it down until you're pressed against him. You swallow wildly around his length, making him groan.

"Fuck, you're such a sight, noona,” he rasps, “With my cock stuffed down your throat."

He pulls out a little before thrusting back in, abusing your throat and you enjoy every minute of it. You gag every time he has you pressed against him, your eyes trained on the way his muscles go rigid.

"Look at you, getting your throat fucked like a whore," Jungkook says, enthralled by the way you swallow around his cock. "You're gonna have me cum before I've even fucked your pussy."

You hum, hips beginning to grind on the desk at the prospect of Jungkook fucking you.

Jungkook pushes his entire length into your mouth once more, letting it sit there as you sputter, the sides of your mouth dribbling with a mixture of your spit and his precum, before he pulls you off completely, his hand replacing your mouth as he slowly fists his cock.

You're breathing hard, gasping to catch your breath but your eyes don't leave how he's slowly working his shaft, hissing when squeezes at the base. You eye the way his abdominal muscles clench every time he thrusts into his hand.

"Can I-" You begin but stop, a surge of shyness falling over you and you avert your eyes.

"Hmm? What was that?" Jungkook asks, bending down so he's in your field of vision.

"I...I've been fantasizing," you explain, turning towards him again, slowly lifting your hand to have it trail down his chest. "About riding your abs... can I?" You ask, peering at him with your eyes wide.

"And you ask me why I work out so much when you have such a muscle kink, noona," Jungkook teases but moves to make you stand on your feet. You wobble on your feet a little but catch your balance quickly when Jungkook takes your seat on the desk, leaning back against the wall.

You quickly scamper to straddle him, his face so close to yours. Without thinking, you close the distance between the two of you and catch his lips with your own. He moans into your mouth, grabbing ahold of your waist to push you onto him, tilting your head to lick into your mouth. You start slowly, experimentally rubbing your abused pussy on the hot skin of his abdomen. You moan loudly when your clit rubs against the flexed ridges of his muscles.

"Mmm, as much as I love the sounds coming out of your mouth, ___, you have to be quiet," Jungkook says, kissing down your neck. "Unless you want the whole party to hear what you're doing."

You nod eagerly, biting your lips to muffle the sounds of your moans but the idea that anyone outside could figure out what the two of you doing sends a jolt of excitement down your spine and only make you move faster against him.

"You're so dirty noona," Jungkook bites your neck, making you whimper. "You want everyone to hear you, right, you want them to watch me fuck you."

You shiver when he slides a hand down your back and whine when he makes you sit up. At your dejected expression he chuckles, "Noona, do you want me to stuff you full of my cock or not?"

At his words, you move at lightning speed, standing on your shaky legs in anticipation. He's quick to stand up, moving behind you. You watch him sift through his jeans until he brings out a condom but you shake your head. "I-I'm on the pill," you clarify. "Want to feel you inside me."

“Fuck,” He groans, fisting his cock, "I can't believe how perfect you are, ___."

He moves behind you again, grabbing you until he's had you bent over the desk. "Now, you have to be a good girl and keep quiet, okay?" He says, smoothing a hand on your back and you eagerly nod, spreading your legs so he can stand between them. He drags his cock over your entrance, slowly sliding it down without adding any pressure so it slips down your entrance and nudges your sensitive clit. You yelp as streams of pleasure zap down your legs.

"I thought I told you to be quiet, noona," Jungkook chastises, "I bet you want Taehyung to walk in and see, don't you? Or is it Hoseok hyung, want him to see me fucking you in his room?"

You moan loudly at his words, eyes falling towards the door, where anyone could walk in an see the state you're in.

"Or should I stuff your panties in your mouth if you can't listen."

Unable to answer, you let out a breathy moan when his cock slides down your slit again, biting your lips to hold it back but ultimately fail.

"Guess, I have no choice," Jungkook says before stuffing the black lace into your mouth.

"Can you taste yourself, ___?" He asks, nudging your entrance with the head of his dick and you let out a muffled moan, nodding when your flavor hits your tongue.

"Do you taste how sweet you are, noona?" He pushes the head in and you groan, your walls clenching down, making Jungkook hiss.

"Fuck you're so tight, noona or is my cock just too big for your tiny pussy," Jungkook grits out, pushing in until half of his dick is lodged inside of you. Your legs are shaking at this point, walls convulsing at the intrusion but it feels so good to have a cock — Jungkook's cock — inside of you. There's no guilt to the realization like you had been expecting, it feels nothing but right, like you were meant to have him filling you to the hilt. The sudden realization has you pushing back on his length, silently asking him to stuff you full, and he easily complies, pushing in until his length seated completely inside of you. Both of you still for a moment, you're left a whimpering mess, feeling so utterly full that you could just snap in half. Jungkook is no better, he shudders when he feels you convulse around him, cock twitching inside of you.

"F-fuck," he grits out, voice wavering. "You don't know how long I've wanted this for," he groans, leaning against you until his body is molded perfectly above yours.

You peer up at him and are shocked to see how fucked out he is, sweat beads his forehead, slowly sliding down the side of his face as he bites his lips raw.

"Noona," he groans, burying his face into the crook of your neck. "I can't believe I'm inside of you."

You shudder when he presses himself even further inside of you, and you feel like you might explode when he hasn't even started moving yet. You clench down on his length once more that has him break out of his thoughts and he pulls out before he's slamming into you again. You shriek into the lace at the brute force of the pace Jungkook's fucking into you. He's relentless with his thrusts, his thick cock filling you to the hilt before he's pulling out again. It's obscene, the way he's grunting and the way the slap of skin against skin reverberates through the room. You're lucky that the music is loud enough that nobody can be privy to what's going on inside.

You moan and drool against the fabric, hands desperately finding purchase onto the desk. You feel like the whole table might break apart against Jungkook's monstrous pace. His hold on your hips is so strong that you're sure he's leaving bruises on your skin, and that only makes you groan in delight at the prospect of having his marks branded on your skin.

"I won't last long," he grits out, voice deep and tinged with a guttural groan. You nod against the wood, eyes watering, letting him know that you're in the same state. Even if you didn't have your mouth stuffed full, you're sure you wouldn't be able to make a coherent word leave your lips. It's like every cell in your body is on fire, igniting every time Jungkook furiously fucks into you. Even after having this on your mind all summer, nothing could have prepared you for the sheer pleasure of actually feeling his cock inside of you, the way pushes into you. Without even having the realization of your impending release, the coil snaps and you're hurtling headfirst towards the strongest orgasm you've ever had in your life. Every muscle in your body goes rigid as you clench down onto his length with all the strength you have, stars glittering behind your eyelids as your walls flutter and convulse relentlessly around his cock. The feeling has Jungkook moaning, his forehead resting on your neck before spurts of hot cum begin to fill you up even more. He fucks you with even more vigor until you've milked out everything from him. He fucks his cum back into you one last time before he stops in his stuttering pace and collapses on top of you.

The two of you stay like that for a while, catching your breath. His body encases you in a sweltering heat, crushing you but you relish in the feeling of the sticky heat between the two of you. He presses chaste kisses on the base of your neck, his breath still heavy. It's silent but you feel complete, like a part of you had been missing and you just found it. You feel perfect.

Before he moves to get off you, he takes the lace out of your mouth and meets your lips in a deep kiss. Helping you stand up, his eyes follow the way his cum dribbles out of your pussy before he's quickly stuffing it back inside.

"Keep that in there, okay?" He says before he's kissing you again.

Both of you change quickly and in silence, you tie your hair back haphazardly, hoping you can play it off as being far too drunk to care about your appearance.

When you look back at Jungkook, you notice him shoving the ruined pair of panties in his back pocket. Raising an eyebrow in question, he chuckles. "It's my souvenir for waiting this long to get to fuck you."

You scoff, looking back at your reflection to look at your ensemble once more before you're heading towards the door. Jungkook stays back so you can make your exit first. The music is still loud, even though the crowd has thinned out since you were last out there. You move towards the kitchen and grab yourself whatever cup you see to make your lie more believable. Peering out into the living room, you don't spot Hoseok or Yoongi anywhere, though you do notice a passed out Namjoon, bonsai tree still clutched tightly against his chest.

You don't move from your spot, even when you see Jungkook emerge from Hoseok's room, and he doesn't come to you either, opting to move back to his group of friends where the girl he was with eagerly clings onto him again.

You frown, even though it hadn't bothered you before, seeing her with him leaves a heavy feeling in your chest. You watch on as he easily laughs and blends into the crowd once more until you can't ignore the feeling anymore. Shaking your head, you're quick to move towards the entrance, suddenly feeling the telltale signs of an oncoming headache.

The following day, least to say, goes by seemingly uneventfully. Unless you count the fact that you catch Yoongi and Hoseok sitting in the kitchen when you make your way down the stairs. He’s quick to greet you with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows.

“What?” You squint, taking a seat next to him on the kitchen island.

“So you and Jeon finally get to do the nasty or what?”

“W-what?” You blanch at his words, choking at the piece of toast you'd stolen from his plate.

“Come on, don’t even try to hide it, I saw him go into my room after you, gotta admit, I really thought you'd end up with Taehyung last night but I guess I was wrong,” Hoseok shrugs, taking the stolen piece of toast back from you.

“If you thought she’d end up with Taehyung, why'd you bet on Jeon?” Yoongi grumbles, shoving a couple of bills in Hoseok’s open palm.

“Wait!” You snap, “you guys actually bet on it?”

Hoseok completely ignores your dramatic exclamation and turns to Yoongi. “Call it my own personal spidey sense, I can sense when people fuck…like I sensed that you were getting fucked yesterday.”

Yoongi’s quick to smack Hoseok across the back of his head.

“So… my grand plan worked out,” you pass a smirk to Hoseok, and hold out your palm.

“Wait you guys bet on me?” Yoongi looks between the two of you, eyes wide.

“Hey, gotta make a living and stay jobless at the same time somehow,” you shrug, counting the bills in your hand.

“Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about you and Jungkook,” Hoseok points his fork towards you. “You still have to tell me the gruesome details.”

“I’m not telling you any details, that ship sailed when you started bumping uglies with my brother.”

“Hey, I’m willing to spill, you’re the one who was so against it,” Hoseok shrugs, “Plus, I need to know if I have to burn my sheets or not.”

You pause, giving him the side-eye before you smirk. “Not your sheets… but you may want to get yourself a new desk.”

The next few days followed by slowly. You find yourself finishing off all your assignments with little to no distractions — unless you call watching the entirety of Instant Hotel a distraction. By the third day, you’re back to your normal routine and you decide that the whole thing with Jungkook was the cause of your lack of sexual gratification, and you’re totally over it. It kind of sucks that you had to literally fuck it out of your system to stop lusting over your dongsaeng, but it happened and there’s nothing you can change about it. That’s what you decide — that you were completely okay.

Except that, you’re not. On the fifth day, you have a meltdown over the whole ordeal, and even Hoseok can’t make your anxieties go away. You avoid the backyard at all costs and don’t even turn to steal any more alcohol from your mother’s stash because, just as you blame your lack of a sex life that landed you in this situation, you also blame alcohol. This time, though, you’ve truly quit alcohol.

It’s on the seventh day that you actually see Jungkook, he doesn’t see you but that’s mostly because you duck out of sight before he gets the chance. It’s not like he was on his way to seek you out either, you see him jogging towards his dad’s truck, probably out on his way to run some errands. At least he hasn’t been hanging around your house these days, which makes the whole thing less awkward. Now, all you have to do is go through two more months just like this and you’ll be back in college, far, far away from here.

A week. It’s been a week and approximately three hours since you had gotten a glance at Jungkook. With your more recent research, you declare that you are indeed not okay. And to your luck, you have no effective distractions — Yoongi — to your disposal. You’re home alone, having exhausted your last remaining brain cells by watching reality tv for seven hours straight. You’re casually perusing through Netflix once more because one more episode couldn’t hurt, when the doorbell rings.

You huff, wondering if you’d ordered a pizza and had forgotten about it, which seems quite impossible, but still, you don’t cancel it out completely. But what you find after opening the door is even more shocking than a forgotten pizza delivery. None other than Jeon Jungkook stands outside your front door, sheepishly smiling at you.

“Yoongi’s not home,” you say, immediately grimacing at your harsh tone, not expecting it to hold that much malice.

Jungkook’s eyes dart to the side before he nods, “Uh, yeah I know,” he clears his throat before looking back at you. “I came here to see you.”

“Okay...” you say, moving to the side so he can walk in. You make your way into the living room without waiting for him, trying really hard to appear casual but end up standing in the middle of the room with your arms crossed. “Why’d you ring the bell?” You ask once he’s inside, “And why’d you come through the front door?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously, “I-it’s because I wanted to do things properly,” he shifts on his feet, “And I don’t think barging into the room will do us any good.”

It’s not difficult to understand what he’s referring to, making you frown at his choice of words. “Listen, if this is about that night, it’s all good okay? You don’t need to worry about that, we were drunk and these things can happen to anyone so you don’t need to bother yourself over something like that. I don’t expect you to do anything about it, I’m a big girl and I can take it,” you ramble on even though your mind is screaming at you to shut up!

“It’s not about that!” Jungkook blurts out, “Uh, I mean, is it technically about that but not what you think,” he reassures right after.

The two of you stare at each other in awkward silence for a few seconds before he breaks. “Listen, ___,” he begins, sighing. “I just wanted to apologise—”

“Like I said Jungkook, you don’t need to,” you interrupt him.

“Will you let me finish, ___?” Jungkook asks, smiling at you and the look alone has you shutting up. “As I was saying, I’m sorry for how I left things last time. I should have been more clear about my feelings.” The more he talks, the more he flushes. It’s so strange seeing Jungkook stammer around you now as if he didn’t stuff your own panties in your mouth a week ago to get you to shut up. But you can’t complain, you’ve always loved to watch him squirm.

“What I mean to say is, noona... I meant what I said that night,” he continues, “About how long I’ve waited to-” He clears his throat awkwardly. “How long I’ve waited for you.”

You still blankly stare at him, not sure where this is going at all. Was he trying to have another round? He’s probably figured out that no one was home, and honestly speaking you wouldn’t be opposed to it either…

“I like you, ___,” he blurts out. “I’ve always liked you but I never thought you even saw me as a... man… until recently. And I know we, uh, have done it, but I still wanted to formally tell you.”

A smile starts lighting up your face as he continues to stutter and stammer out a confession.

“Jeon Jungkook!” You exclaim, “Are you… asking me out?” You ask, fully grinning at him now, even though you know the answer already.

He’s bashful under your gaze, moving to rub at his red ears, “Um, yeah I am,” he says before handing you a paper bag you hadn’t noticed before. “It’s the end of the month, after all, so I guessed might as well shoot my shot.”

You take the bag, peering at it curiously until you take out what’s inside: a bottle of Pinot Noir.

#btssmutclub #kwritersworldnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #bts fanfic #bts scenario #fls

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

Note

Hi! You're by far my favorite writer for the man himself so I wanted to ask you.. can we plleeasse get a super sweet and passionate morning sex smutty-fluffer with Mr. Washington? Maybe the two of them had a stressful week at work/school or something and they decided to drive up to the lodge to escape by themselves for a long weekend together?? I'm on a massive Josh kick right now, there isn't enough love for him 😫😫

13. sleepy sex 14. being ridden

Another perfect place to answer two requests—I’m feeling accomplished! I love you all so much 💋

Also, this sucker is almost 3,000 words. I SWEAR I try to answer your prompts quickly on days like this, but sometimes, a story happens. Well, if this can even be considered a “story” 😆

* * * * *

Every year, Josh Washington hosted one hell of a summer-kick-off party at his parents’ lodge. He watched the weather like he was auditioning for a job on the local news, carefully choosing the warmest, clearest day. Despite the label of “summer,” the temperature in the Rockies at the lodge only ever flirted with anything near 75°F (23°C) yet Josh insisted, every year, that it was a “pool party” and that guests shouldn’t wear much more than a swimsuit.

At least that’s what your mutual friend, Chris, had explained to you.

It had been a stressful final month of school—exams, moving out of your dorm and back home with your parents, finding a summer job—so when Josh finally chose a date for the party, you requested the weekend off and offered to help him get things set up.

Josh eyed you suspiciously, considering that you and he had been engaged in a sort of “will they, won’t they” dance for the past few months. You were locked in a battle wondering if he just wanted to check you off his list as another notch in his bedpost, and he was wondering if you even liked him as more than a flirting buddy, considering you seemed to have quite a lot of those.

“You sure?”

“Totally!”

Josh took your phone and typed in the address for the lodge. “Can you come up Thursday? That way we have all day Friday to get ready.”

You nodded and plucked your phone out of his hand, but not before he tightened his grip, making you look up and smile at him as you tugged on it.

“Gimme. Or I won’t come up at all.”

Josh released his grip with his trademark grin before he schooled his features into a contortion of pain as he gripped his chest. “Call the medic! I’m wounded. My heart’s been plucked from my chest,” he exaggeratedly panted.

You tried to stifle your grin, knowing it only encouraged his antics, but how could you not smile at that adorable goof?

* * *

The drive up to the Washington Lodge was fantastic for your stress level—nothing but empty roads, gorgeous scenery, and all the cheesiest, upbeat pop music you could cram onto a playlist. When you finally parked your car behind Josh’s in the horseshoe driveway, you were humming the lyrics of the last song as you pulled your weekender bag from the backseat.

After you slammed the door shut and rounded the car, you looked up at the lodge and whistled.

“Jeee-sus.” You knew Josh’s folks were rich, but this was the kind of rich you had only ever seen on Instagram … or maybe on an episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians. It was so intimidating, it made you think twice about Josh.

He was just so … normal. Well, normal in a film-nerdy, goofball kinda way, but he never struck you as someone who grew up in a bubble of privilege.

It was close to 8:30 pm, but daylight still persisted and the pinkish sky lit up Josh’s face as he stepped onto the porch and looked down at you while you still stared open-mouthed at the lodge.

“Was the drive okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah it was great,” you said as you shook your head and climbed the stairs. “Josh—this place is … insane.”

“You’ve never been here?”

You shook your head no.

Josh frowned and thought for a moment. “I guess I forgot we haven’t known each other that long. You sure feel like an old chum, lil buddy,” he said as he slung an arm around your shoulders and walked you into the house.

“Chum? ‘Lil’ buddy?” you said with amusement.

Josh cleared his throat and removed his arm, nervously running one hand through his freshly cut hair. “What else should I call you?”

You bit your lip and looked up at him, a small smile on your face. “Guess we’ll see, huh?”

Josh grinned, his face lighting up as his white teeth flashed, and butterflies unexpectedly danced in your stomach.

“Let me show you around.”

* * *

The house was just as impressive on the inside, and when Josh finally showed you his room, you flopped on his king-sized bed and begged him to never make you leave. He laughed and made you promise not to move a muscle as he dashed out of the room, returning in about 15 minutes with food, drinks, extra pillows, and a stack of DVDs tucked under his chin as he tried to balance it all. He kicked the door shut, nearly spilling a bowl of popcorn he had tucked under his arm.

“Now you’re my prisoner,” he attempted to declare, but given the comical way he was shuffling toward the bed, you could do nothing other than laugh.

As he deposited everything onto the comforter, you asked, “DVDs? Is there even a TV in here?”

“Au contraire, lil lady. Behold!”

Josh walked over to the wall and slid the wooden paneling open, revealing a huge flatscreen. “Ta-da!”

“I really could stay here forever,” you mumbled as you kicked off your shoes and scooted to the top of the bed.

“But don’t you think you’d be more comfortable in your PJs? Unless, of course, you sleep in the buff? And in that case, you would absolutely be more comfortable in your PJs,” Josh finished as he settled onto the bed next you, his elbow propping him up as he laid on his side to face you.

“If I came out of your bathroom naked, you wouldn’t even know what to do with yourself, Joshua Washington.”

“You’re right. I’d die of happiness,” he confirmed with a smile.

The room felt a lot hotter than it did a moment ago, so you sat up and looked down at Josh, his big green eyes bursting with affection.

“Let’s see how the night goes,” you promised with a sweet kiss to the tip of his nose.

* * *

As it turned out, the night passed chastely. You were a lot more tired than you had thought, and halfway through the first movie, your hand still sitting in the bowl of popcorn, you fell asleep.

When your breathing deepened and it became clear you weren’t going to wake up, Josh chuckled as he removed your hand from the bowl. He cleared off the bed and turned off the TV before snuggling into your side and quickly falling asleep.

Sunlight streaming through a huge window woke you up with a start. For a moment, you forgot where you were until you shifted under the weight of Josh’s arm. You smiled as you felt him stir, the arm wrapped around your waist tightening as he burrowed between your shoulder blades, probably trying to unconsciously hide from the sun.

Squinting, you shuffled out of bed and fiddled with the blinds until you figured out how to draw them. The room darkened to a greyish hue and Josh rolled over, seemingly still asleep. Since you were up, you went in to use the bathroom, and as you washed your hands in the sink, you looked at your reflection.

A slight blush colored your cheeks as you thought about how much you wanted to wake up like this again, preferably after figuring out if the big dick jokes the boys directed at Josh were because he actually was well-endowed or if they were just being idiots.

You had left your bag in here after changing last night, so you dug around for your toiletry case to retrieve your toothbrush.

After adjusting your tank top and sleep shorts, you gave your just-brushed hair a sexy tousle and glanced longingly at your lip gloss container.

“Too much,” you said with a dismissive shake of your head. You piled everything back into your bag, and exited the bathroom, hoping Josh was still asleep.

As you rounded the corner the bathroom was tucked into, you felt that familiar hot flush creep over your cheeks as you took in Josh’s form.

In your absence, he had sprawled out in the middle of the bed. He was on his stomach, his hands tucked under his pillow as he faced away from the window. His chocolatey-colored curls had lost their definition in the night and stood out against his light-grey pillowcase in a wild puff. The blankets were pushed down to his waist and the plain white t-shirt he had worn to bed was pushed up to his midback, exposing an expanse of light brown skin. His legs were spread, one foot sticking out from under the messy pile of blankets and you had to tamp down the temptation to see if he was ticklish.

You slid back into bed and settled on your side so you could face him. Tentatively, you reached out with your finger and ran it gently down his spine. His skin was smooth and the depression of his spine contrasted so deliciously with the strong muscles of his lower back that you wanted nothing more than to trace that indentation with your tongue.

Still touching him lightly, Josh stirred, his arms flexing as he stretched them before lifting his head and turning to look at you.

“Hi,” he said, his grin half-hidden by his bicep.

“Good morning.”

“Sorry. Forgot to pull the blind.”

“So you were awake?”

“Just waiting to see how much of me you’d touch if you thought I was asleep. Pervert,” Josh teased.

You opened your mouth in mock-offense and smacked his shoulder. “Rude.”

He chuckled and stretched again before he wriggled out from the blankets and stood, offering a mumbled, “Be right back,” as he made his way to the bathroom.

Josh wasn’t gone long, but it was long enough for your eyes to slip shut, a smile still on your face as you thought about him.

When you felt the bed dip, your eyes popped open.

“Sleepy girl?” Josh asked, his hand crawling under your tank top to rest on your bare stomach.

The heat radiating from his palm scorched through your body, a pool of arousal settling between your thighs.

“Not anymore,” you whispered as you looked at him, your eyes locked on his as you slid your hand along his arm, resting it on top of his.

Josh pulled his hand from beneath yours, off of your stomach and up to the side of your face. He cupped your cheek and slid closer, his body warm and connected with yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

In answer, you pulled him to you by the front of his shirt, causing both of you to softly sigh as your lips connected and began to move. You both tasted like the spearmint of Josh’s toothpaste, and when his tongue licked along the seam of your lips, you opened for him, the tips of your tongues touching before he dove into your mouth.

You kissed and kissed and kissed until you were both a panting mess, the blankets twisted around your legs, your once-sexily tasseled hair once again a mess, and Josh’s poof of curls even more wild than they had been against his pillow from you running your fingers through them, scraping across his scalp and around the back of his head.

Reaching for the bottom of his t-shirt, you tugged until he detached himself from your mouth so he could pull it the rest of the way off. You seized the momentary lull to push him onto his back, and as you sat up, you pulled off your tank top, Josh’s pupils dilating as he watched your breasts bounce.

Immediately, his hands reached for them, but you pulled back as you wiggled out of your shorts. Josh licked his lips and followed suit, pulling off his sleep pants. You glanced at the outline of his cock beneath his boxer-briefs and smirked.

“They weren’t just jokes,” you mused as you reached out and gripped him, pulling a mix between a moan and a chuckle from his throat.

It was your turn to control the kissing, so you straddled his hips and lowered your body to rest on top of his, once again relishing in the warmth of him and the masculine scent that seemed to be a mixture of expensive cologne and something that was just … Josh.

His hands roamed over your back and your backside, kneading and massaging as you kissed him—lips, jaw, neck, and when you sat up to catch your breath, he begged, “Ride me. Please.”

Again, that electric heat shot through your body and you knew your pussy was a mess for him. He reached up, finally able to wrap his big hands over your breasts, and you leaned back, grinding on his cock as he worked your nipples gently pulling on them before he leaned up to capture one in his mouth.

You shuddered as he sucked, his green eyes looking up at you, full of unabashed want and affection. He moved his mouth to your other nipple and you thought you might spontaneously combust if you didn’t slide his dick inside of your body within the next three breaths.

“Do we need protection? I’m on the pill.”

“Are you asking me if I’m a slut?” Josh said as he nuzzled between your breasts.

“Yes,” you answered, not caring if it sounded callous.

“I’m clean—and you?” he queried, laying back onto his pillows.

“Me too,” you answered before pulling down his underwear and moaning as you palmed his dick.

“Such a big boy,” you praised before looking up at him. “Tell me why we waited this long?”

“How about after we fuck?” Josh suggested, leaning up to tug at your panties.

With a huff of laughter, you slid your underwear off and returned to straddle him, sliding your soaking pussy lips over his cock until it glistened.

A whiny moan slid out from Josh as he watched and his strong hands reached up to grasp your hips and tilt them, the tip of his cock finally sliding inside your body. You adjusted the top half of him, sliding up and down a few times before taking him in all the way, both of you letting out a whoosh of breath once he was fully sheathed.

“Oh my god,” you groaned as your eyes rolled back at the sensation of his big cock. “Wow!”

Josh snorted and gave your ass a light smack.

“See what you were missin’ out on?”

“Mmm,” you hummed as you began to ride him, slowly and purposefully, not wanting your first time together to be over in a flash.

“You feel so fucking good,” Josh stated as his hands slid over your body. “So good.”

The rhythm you settled into was natural, even lazy, like you had been fucking for years. It felt so right, to be here with Josh, to feel him moving inside of you as you locked eyes, both of you shedding your protective layers and letting yourselves feel exposed, finally knowing that all each of you would see in return would be a sweet tenderness, the kind that could easily turn into love.

“Touch me,” you breathed, leaning back to rest your hands on his thighs so he could have full access to your clit.

Josh’s fingers immediately went to work, stimulating your swollen clit. The sweat blossoming across his brow in tandem with the flush of red settling over his chest told you he was trying his best not to come before you did.

“Come, Josh. Come for me,” you commanded as you clenched your inner walls around him and swirled your hips.

His thumb stuttered across your clit until he couldn’t do anything other than grasp your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass bruisingly as he cried out, his hot cum flooding your pussy while you rode him through his climax.

He looked beautiful as he came, his eyes widening before slamming shut as a series of gravelly groans fell from his parted lips.

Swallowing for breath and still hard inside of you, Josh flipped you onto your back and reached between your thighs, furiously working your clit until you came, clenching around his softening cock.

Josh said something to you, but you couldn’t hear him over the roar of blood in your ears. You shook your head and raised your hand, silently begging him to give you a minute.

Josh placed light kisses across the heated skin of your chest, before shifting slightly so his weight wasn’t crushing you.

“What was it you said?” you asked when you could finally form a sentence.

Josh looked into your face, smiling. “That good, huh?”

You giggled and smacked his shoulder, again. “That was not what you said.”

His face turned serious as he nodded, clearly building his resolved to repeat his spontaneous emission.

“Will you be my girlfriend? I … I don’t want this to just be a one-time thing.”

You were speechless as your eyes roamed his face, your mind wondering how you got so lucky.

“Yeah. I wanna be your girl, Josh.”

“Fuck yeah!” he yelled, rolling over and pumping his fist into the air before he pulled you back on top of him, his hands tangling in your hair to pull you down for a kiss.

You pulled away after a minute to ask, “Can we cancel the party? Just do this instead?”

“And miss a chance to see you prancing around in a swimsuit for hours, knowing I get to tear it off of you at the end of the night?”

Your body flushed with a familiar warmth as you grinned. “Guess I didn’t think about it like that.”

“I can’t wait to show you off,” Josh whispered against your lips, both of you smiling as you exchanged sweet kisses.

#SMUT #Josh Washington x reader #female reader #josh washington #Josh Washington smut #Rami Malek characters

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gotham--fc · 3 years

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It cool we all be busy I have a ton of coursework to do and hockey stuff (got to play a beer leauge game at a proper full on arena the other day which was so cool! It’s like where the national team plays and we got to play there! Though the game was wild lmao, someone on the other team forgot how sticks work and lifted their stick up very fast when it was between my feet (ow, I take back anything bad I’ve said about Jills ), the jump from ice to benches was above the knee for me so I usually jumped with like a skate up and took myself on the bench a couple times 😂, and I screened the goalie a ton and they didn’t kill me (I thanked them for that at the end but they should have killed me )

Yeah the whole winter Olympics is boss, I have to pick a second country to support cause mine is in like 5 events but yeah , Canada has a good curling team I think ( I’d imagine y’all do)

Yeah like with my sticks I’m not switching, my skates recently have been a problem child (they’re rubbing against my feet painfully and I don’t think I can get it punched out) and would 100% be replaced rn if I could afford to 😂. Ooo how’s bowling going? U haven’t mentioned it but it sounds fun !

Yess I love bardown for post and in cause the ding noise is just 👌. I also like five hole just cause that’s where I score the most 😂 ooo good shot! Defo counts! They don’t know u were only going for the clear and tbh that makes it more impressive, you got that offensive awareness-you’re too good to be a forward u wanted to give the other defence a chance! Bet you would’ve got homers, and that sounds very painful we’re u ok after?

Aww noo that sucks😬 we haven’t got the same restrictions but a ton of games are getting postponed 😭 Kirky is the best he scored the most in the iihf mens top division in 2021 (which is impressive when u consider GB is not good and didn’t play past the the group stage- we last won a game in regulation in that level in 1962, before the Belarus game in 2021)😎😎

Ooo that’s soo cool he played in the ohl and you got his card that’s one major flex !!

My Christmas was good thanks I saw both sides of my family and I was the driver this year cause I can drive now which was cool cause I’d never had passengers before but also sad bc I couldn’t have alcohol (don’t need it to have fun (we also legal so it’s chill) but like we had some nice one😂) the food was boss pigs and blankets ftw (whoever decided to wrap bacon round mini sausages is a genius)

Aww noo the WJC was boss and I’m sad it got cancelled (Connor Bedard is amazing) but it made sense with all the forefitting, I don’t get why they couldn’t do a bubble or plan it better though. The iihf messed up there they should reschedule all thier stuff they cancelled. Weird opinion but they should send he WJC squads to the Olympics they do that in mens footy!

That’s good :) F for ur fantasy team, feel like I’m the opposite to u lol my NHL team is sucking rn and we have like 4 NHL players available to play, one of my fantasy teams is 3/10 so that’s good but the other has won 3 weeks out of 12 soo 😬. My phf team is 3rd but we got 2 in hand so it’s chill.

How was your new year? You played any of your sports recently? How are you doing in the whole covid stuff you locked down again?

.🏒🏒

Hey that’s cool for you! That’s one thing I’ll never get to experience with soccer is to get on or off the field it’s just a white line painted on the grass it’s the same every field 😂 I don’t think I could handle having to either step up or down on one rink vs leaping up or down on another 😂

I never watch curling normally but sometimes I’ll throw it on if there’s nothing to watch and get fully immersed in it, I tried curling once but I was really bad at it like really bad like our local curling club begs for members but I threw one stone and they were like maybe you should just go 😂

Oh yeah the worst are when my cleats start to go I don’t wanna get new cleats idc if they hurt my feet I’m not getting new ones

I haven’t bowled in forever, I used to be in a youth league growing up I won’t lie I was pretty good, I’d usually get high 100s/low 200s scores, I went to a lot of tournaments medaled a few times got a few trophies, I wasn’t the best I was good, I never like made it to nationals or provincials or anything like that but I enjoyed it, I haven’t played in forever because I had to leave the youth league at 18 and then I moved for school and then covid so I haven’t been bowling as often as I’ve wanted to but it was fun when I went a few weeks ago! I hurt my plant leg like crazy and was down for a few days after which was embarrassing, and I didn’t play great because it’s hard to bowl without bending your legs 😂 I only play 5 pin btw I don’t want to confuse anyone and make them think I play 10 pin no thanks I’m not that strong

Yeah I agree I like shots that just absolutely rip because they look cool but honestly any goal counts I’ll take anything 😂

Also I was fine I got hurt playing baseball a lot we played on a gravel field it wasn’t good for anyone, I was also just dramatic I’d cry like I broke my leg and then 5 minutes later I’d be fine and ask to get put back in, baseball is a bad sport for children our aim is awful I got plunked more often than I could count and even though we used the big softballs like they still hurt and it’s not like we wore batting gloves so when I would swing and hit the ball with my fingers instead of the bat 😬

Yeah we’re full lockdown basically now which sucks, I’ve already had one concert I had tickets for canceled I’m really just hoping the rest of the things I have tickets for in February don’t get cancelled too

But hell yeah mr kirky!! If he ever has a Zac Efron 17 again moment he can come back to the Pete’s for a couple more years okay?

Oh yeah I flex it all the time to people like anyone I meet who knows anything about hockey I’m like hey did you know my cousin used to play in the ohl 😂

Oh yeah I’ve been the driver to things for a couple of years, as soon as I got my license it was on me, the problem was my older siblings were the dd until someone else got their license but for me I’m the youngest so I don’t have an end point for my dd’ing but we’ve started to host parties more which means no dd for us because we don’t have to drive home after (also you can drink at 19 in Canada (18 in Quebec) so I’m not gonna be the person to shame you for what age you start drinking) oh yeah I love pigs in blankets they’re so good, but yeah bacon wrapped anything is phenomenal we had bacon wrapped scallops this year they were so good, my fav finger food (really food in general) is chicken wings I’d eat chicken wings daily honestly

Yeah exactly like the iihf is looking pretty stupid like why did they think they could do a tournament without bubbling like?? And I heard they’re rescheduling it for august which is fine, but feels like a slap in the face that they’ll reschedule the mens tourny even though they proved they still couldn’t do it safely but they’ll just straight up cancel the women’s tourny like it’s just frustrating but whatevs

Something so funny happened to me the other day, my prof was talking about what constitutes as a history paper and he was saying you can’t usually do sports history because it’s mostly sports trivia or stats not history (I don’t need to get into whether I agree with him or not) but then he said yeah you can’t really write a history page about why the Montreal Canadians are having a shitty season and I was like damn sir you’re right but you shouldn’t say it 😂

My new year was good, I’ve just been hanging out at home but I’m gonna move back for school soon but I’ve been having a good time, I haven’t been able to play any sports lately there’s not a lot of options in the winter because you know it snows here and I was thinking of joining intramurals at my school but with this whole covid lockdown they’ve cancelled everything again, so I guess I’ll have to wait until the summer and hopefully things have opened up by then, but yeah COVID’s been crazy here our numbers are just way up like we’re basically back to square one of lockdown again 🙄

Also I’m crazy disappointed that they cancelled the rest of the rivalry series! But I get why they did it but now we have to wait until the actual Olympics to see Canada play again

#asks #anonymous #hockey anon

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katehuntington · 4 years

Text

Title: In Bad Waters - part twelve Word count: ±2750 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part twelve summary: The only way to find out the truth about Laura, is to start digging even deeper. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09 and @deanwanddamons. Thanks, girls! Gif credit: @demondetoxmanual.

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

“Dead as a dodo,” the oldest of the Winchester brothers states over the phone, as he exits Arkansas Methodist Medical Center, Zoë by his side. Before they drove to the hospital, the hunters dropped Sam off at the Shire residence, so that he could make sure the family wouldn’t get targeted. Laura has proven to be relentless, and they didn’t want to risk the family getting killed as well.

“Laura attacked him while other people were around?” Sam, who is on the line with his brother, is clearly surprised. “She didn’t. She waited until he went to the supply storage, alone,” Dean tells. “Same deal; beat up, broken neck.” Sam cuts to the chase. “We have to figure this out fast. The only other people who may know something about Laura’s location is what’s left of the Shire family.” “You got eyes?” Dean checks, knowing Sam is staking out the residence on Lake Front Lane. “Yeah. So far so good.” “Make sure he keeps them in sight at all costs. Use an excuse and get into the house if he has to,” Zoë suggests, only catching half of the conversation.

Dean glances aside at the woman next to him. She has changed into a clean shirt, one that doesn’t have her own blood on it. Back at the Hampton Inn, she taped her right side, relieving some of the pressure from her aching ribs. After a quick touch up of her hair and make-up, one could barely tell she just got attacked by an angry spirit. Her walk is slightly stiff, but the bruising she suffered is sufficiently masked, her brown curls falling over the gash on her hairline, which she closed with butterfly stitches.

With a groan she lowers herself in the front seat of the Impala, muttering ‘fuck’ under her breath when fractures send a sharp pain through her body. Dean notices when he gets into the car as well, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead he puts his phone on speaker, now that the Impala provides them the safety to talk freely. “Zo says that when you lose sight of them, you better get inside. Tell them you’re insurance or somethin’.”

“Will do. Did you guys manage to get Laura’s medical records?” “We did. Let’s see what we have here.” The older Winchester pulls a folder from the inside of his leather coat. He opens it, about to leaf through the documents, when Zoë snatches it from his hands. “Hey!” “Like you could make sense of what’s in here,” she scolds.

She wets her finger and flips the page. A huff escapes her throat as she reads the file, shaking her head, disapproving. “1999, age four; skull fracture of the parietal, supposedly fell off her bike. 2001, age six; fracture of the left ulna. 2003, age eight, multiple fractures, right radius, she needed surgery for that. Same year, broken carpal bones, right wrist, this time it was the trampoline's fault. It goes on.” “Fucking bastard…” Dean scoffs. “And no one picked up on this?” Sam wonders. “Perks of the dad being Chief of surgery.” Zoë holds an X-ray against the light. “Good news for us is that we should be able to determine now if it’s Laura in that grave or not. Especially her right arm, which was screwed back together.”

“Only one way to find out. Looks like your gonna pay Linwood Cemetery another visit,” Dean says, turning the key in the ignition. The V8 engine comes to life with a roar, a song by The Kinks called ‘You Really Got Me’ playing on the local radio station.

“You know you and Zo have to stick together, right?” Sam brings to mind. “Say what?” Dean replies, puzzled, before he pulls away from the curb. “He’s right.” Zoë backs up the younger Winchester’s statement, glancing at the driver next to her. “Laura kills everyone who stops her, but only if they are alone. We already know she’s after me, and now you shot her through the head, so I’m guessing you moved up her murder list.” “Well that’s a comforting thought.” Dean breathes out, once realization sets in. “What about you, Sam?” “I don’t think she’ll come after me. I never actually had contact with her, unlike you guys,” Sam explains. “So basically, I’m stuck with her?” Dean nods his head at the young woman next to him, even though his brother can’t see it. “Hey, still in the car,” Zoë snarls, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She then continues to correct herself, in her usual brazenness. “Excuse my French. I’m still in the ‘67 Chevrolet Impala.”

Dean’s jaw clenches as he fights the urge to pull the gun from the glove compartment and shoot her. He’s getting pretty tired of her smartass comments. “He has a point, though,” Sam intervenes. “Whatever happens, you two have to stick together, or it will be the end of you. The second one of you ends up alone…” Sam leaves the rest of the words unsaid, because no one needs to hear them to understand. If Dean and Zoë get separated, they will die, and especially the huntress is not particularly happy about that matter.

“Great. My lucky day,” Zoë mutters sarcastically, after which she looks away and watches the houses rush by. “Do I have to remind you that I just saved your ass?” Dean recalls. The huntress huffs, of course he has to bring that up. “I didn't need your--” “Oh, come on! Don't start that bullshit with me,” the oldest Winchester counters, letting out a laugh. No way in hell she’s going to win this argument. “What were you planning to do exactly after Laura pinned you to the wall and was a second from snapping your neck, huh?”

“Could you two stop bitching at each other for one fucking second?!” Dean looks at the phone on the dashboard. For a moment there, he forgot Sam was still a part of this conversation. The younger Winchester clearly has had enough of their bickering and fighting, because it’s not often that the respectable sibling curses. The outburst helps, because both shut up instantly.

“Thank you,” Sam sighs and continues on his theory. “Dean, you dig up that body, I’ll keep an eye on the Shires.” The Impala comes to a stop before a traffic light, crossing cars not allowing Dean to run the stop sign. “What about Miss Congeniality over here?” “She can’t dig. She broke her ribs.” Sam states, matter of factly.

Zoë, who still had her arms crossed in front of her, now turns herself to watch the hunter’s reaction. The amusement that bubbles inside of her makes it impossible to suppress the wide smirk on her lips when she notices Dean translating the true meaning of Sam’s message. For once in her life, she is not going to disagree with Sam, because this is playing itself out beautifully. “So, I’m gonna have to dig up a coffin while she stands there being pretty?!” he almost exclaims. “Ah-uh.” “I have no issues with that, whatsoever.” Zoë agrees, adding fuel to the fire. “Of course you don’t, you--” Dean shuts himself up, biting his tongue before he says something he might regret. He’s only at an arm's length away from her, plus he’s driving his precious car. The huntress might be hurt, but she can still do some serious damage. “Alright, Sammy. You stay put, and be careful, okay?” he presses. “Who knows what that mini poltergeist has up her sleeve.” “I’ll be safe,” his younger brother promises. “You guys too, alright? See you in a bit.”

The sun is about to sink behind the horizon and golden hour is upon them. The heavens are colored in a dark shade of blue, gradually turning lighter in the west, where apricot and merigold fire up the sky. It’s getting chilly, autumn bringing down the temperatures at dusk. Nocturnal animals come to life, a barn owl hooting in the distance. The cemetery’s gates closed an hour ago, offering the hunters the peace and quiet needed to stay undetected.

This time it’s not the huntress who is shuffling dirt. In fact, she’s casually sitting on the tombstone next to Laura’s, her legs crossed like the lady that she is, watching Dean do all the hard work. While filing her nails, Zoë cannot help but admire the scenery, and it’s not the pretty sunset. The Winchester in her company is working his way into the ground, scooping dirt over his shoulder with steady amounts. He shed his jacket and his grey shirt is clinging to his clammy torso, perspiration shimmering on his exposed skin. Muscles roll beneath the fabric of the thin tee and his biceps flex with every motion, a glimpse of a tattoo peeking from under the right sleeve. The huntress might want to bite his head off most of the time, but even she has to admit; Dean’s is easy on the eyes.

“Like what you see?” Dean grins mischievously, having noticed her appreciating looks. Zoë isn’t at all thrown off balance by his remark, however. “Really? You objectify women all the fucking time, and you’re calling me out?” “Touché,” he chuckles, not slowing down for a second. “Just sayin’, the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.” Zoë scoffs, finding his assumption entertaining. “Keep on dreaming, Casanova. I’m more likely to die before ending up between the sheets with you.”

“Well…” Dean swings more ground out of the hole, groaning at the increasing ache in his left shoulder. His eyes are still mischievous, and so is the smirk on his lips. “Let’s get that mini poltergeist off your tail, and we’ll talk again.” Zoë rolls her eyes. This arrogant prick doesn’t know when to stop, does he? “Like I said; keep on dreaming. Now what the hell is taking you so long?” she judges. “It’s only six feet and the ground is already loose.” “Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe if you hadn't put a bullet in my shoulder two days ago, I’d dig a little faster!” Dean snaps, glaring at the person who has been giving him orders all day. “Don’t be such a baby. It didn’t even hit the joint,” Zoë scoffs, blowing the dusty residue from her fingertips. “Now would you hurry it up? I have places to be.”

Gritting his teeth, the hunter dumps another load of soil on the grass besides the grave. I swear to God, one of these days a spirit will be the last of her worries. “Maybe if you had paid attention when you fucking lit the kid in the first place, you could’ve left town hours ago.” “Maybe if your brother hadn’t distracted me, I would have. But you asshats tend to ruin other people's cases,” Zoë counters, rapidly. “Hey, we are just trying to help! Do I have to remind you who’s doing the actual dirty work here?” Dean pauses his actions. “Why don’t you get off your throne of thorns, princess. I’m nearly there.”

Zoë cocks back her head back; did he just call her ‘princess’? Her eyes shoot flames at the intolerable guy, her mouth opening to send back a remark, when the metal shovel collides with the wooden casket. The hollow sound catches Zoë’s attention and she gets up. “Fucking finally.”

Dean hoists himself out of the hole, making room to lift up the lid and exposing the remains. He was going to offer the huntress a hand to get into the grave, but he can’t be bothered now; she can figure out how to lower herself if she’s being such a bitch. She doesn’t ask either, and sits down on the edge, sliding down with a grunt. The older Winchester watches her descent, the light of her flashlight shimmering on his features as she turns it on and places it on the corner of the coffin.

“How are we supposed to tell if this is Laura or not? You already burned her bones to crisp,” Dean wonders, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “Because they aren’t burned to crisp. A salt and burn doesn’t actually destroy them like an oven would when cremated,” the huntress explains wisely, pulling on a pair of latex gloves from her pocket and putting them on as she crouches down.

“So what’s the crime scene telling you, Horatio?” Dean wonders, shining his flashlight down on the skeleton. Zoë doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she clears the burned clothing and half deteriorated skin and muscle tissue from the right arm of the girl in the coffin. She rubs her thumb over the radius bone, swiping away the ash and grime. There are no signs of a healed break, nor has the arm ever been screwed and bolted back together. “This isn’t Laura,” she knows. “Well, shit,” Dean responds, staggered. “If this ain’t her, then where the hell is she?” “Good question.” Zoë rises again, going over the clues they have gathered so far. “Let’s head to the Shire house, get back to Sam. We gotta figure this out, fast.”

The two hunters pack up, Dean hauling the dirt back into the grave while Zoë gathers his jacket and the torches. It takes him less longer than digging the hole in the first place, even though he has to bite through the pain. Not wanting to let Zoë know and give him a reason to scold him again, he keeps his mouth shut.

Thirty minutes later, the driver of the Chevrolet settles down on the front seat, closing the door behind him. “Where to?” Zoë has already pulled her laptop out, studying the map of Paragould on the screen. “Highway 412 up west, right on Reynolds Road, and then take left on Reynolds Park Road.” Dean guides the Chevrolet back onto the street, focused on traffic while the passenger takes in the moving world outside the window. The sinking sun sends an orange glow through the Impala, reflecting on the polished hood of the classic car. They are losing light, they are losing time.

When the driver glances aside briefly, he detects the pondering frown knitted between Zoë’s eyebrows. “Do you happen to see any bright ideas in that thousand mile stare?” he wonders. “We can’t split up, so we have to find Laura’s body and figure out how she relocates with the information we already have,” she says, thinking out loud. Dean brainstorms. “Maybe the way she relocates is a clue on itself.”

Zoë lets the air fall from her lips while thinking about that, trying to make sense of it all. “She can jump houses, but stays in a certain area. The principal’s home, the hospital, the Dawlson’s house, they are not far from each other, but what connects them?” “When you saw her, she was wet through, right? That has to mean something,” the older Winchester brother contemplates. “Yeah, but doesn’t make any sense. We know she didn’t drown,” she ponders, glancing aside at the driver as he turns on Reynolds Park Road. “What if it has something to do with the cover up of her cause of death and not with her death itself?” Dean brings to mind.

Suddenly, it clicks. Her eyes grow wide as she straightens herself, her eyes now locked on what’s in front of her. The Reynolds Park Lake comes into view, the last of the evening light reflecting on the surface. It seems peaceful and quiet at this hour, but it becomes very clear to her that these waters hold a dark secret. “The lake…” she huffs. “The park lake has a water purification system. It provides water to the town.” Dean follows her gaze. It only takes a second before the penny drops. “So that’s how she travels.”

It all makes sense now. Why Sam’s vision showed the sprinklers when he saw Taylor Dawlson get attacked. Why the faucets in Zoë’s hotel room opened right before she manifested. She’s not six feet in the ground, she’s six feet under water. “Little Laura took a swim,” Zoë realizes.

Stunned that they actually managed to crack the case, she glances aside at the green-eyed hunter, who shares a knowing look with her, a small smirk playing on his lips. They finally know what happened, before and after the girl’s death. All they have to do now is find the remains so they can put the spirit to rest, and who knows, maybe Zoë will make that deadline after all.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read chapter thirteen here

#Supernatural: the Sullivan Series #Supernatural OFC #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester fanfiction #Supernatural fanfiction #SPN #Supernatural #STSS #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Zoë Sullivan #1x02 In Bad Waters #Kate Huntington

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shedreamsofstars · 4 years

Text

darts, drinks and dirty tricks

It’s games night in East City, and Jean Havoc has a plan. Not only will he win the evening’s betting pool, but he’ll also have the satisfaction of pulling a fast one over on Lieutenant Hawkeye to claim the position of best sharpshooter for the night.

Dangerous territory? Absolutely. Provided he succeeds that is.

Colonel Roy Mustang however has no plans to let his subordinate steal his First Lieutenant’s sharpshooting crown right off her pretty little head. At least, not without throwing a dirty trick of his own into the mix.

... xxx ...

It was a typically warm and humid East City evening as Colonel Mustang stood up at his desk, his hair a mess of dark strands that perfectly complemented the tired expression on his face.

By any outside account, it would seem as if he had just finished up a long hard day of rigorous paperwork, when the reality was much closer to him having just woken up from an impromptu two-hour nap.

“Well,” Roy said brightly, stretching his arms above his head before retaking his seat. “I don’t know about you guys, but after the day I’ve had, I am in dire need of a drink to unwind.”

There was a general murmur of agreement from his subordinates. “Isn’t it games night?” Falman piped up, poking his head over the large stack of papers in front of him.

“It sure is. So … what are we betting on tonight?”

His First Lieutenant stood attentive to his right, and although she might have been out of his direct line of sight, Roy could already feel her rolling her eyes at him and he sunk further into his seat in satisfaction.

Despite her obvious distaste of gambling, Riza Hawkeye was content to let the boys throw their money at each other so long as they kept her out of it - which they almost never did.

The Colonel eyed the members of his team sprawled haphazardly across their desks with a level look. “I believe it’s your turn to choose the evening’s entertainment Fuery,” he said eventually, turning towards the baby-faced Sergeant and raising an expectant brow.

Cain Fuery squirmed under the Colonel’s gaze, as he was prone to do when put on the spot, and Roy could almost see the different options for the night flashing in his glasses. After an impatient sigh from somewhere across the room, most likely Breda, the Master Sergeant’s face lit up.

“How about a game of darts, Sir?”

Falman and Breda groaned collectively, both notoriously terrible shots, but one sharp look from the First Lieutenant was enough to have them commending the Master Sergeant with an appreciation bordering on grovelling.

It was amusing to say the least, but Roy found his gaze drawn to the corner desk where his Second Lieutenant, Jean Havoc, sat chewing his cigarette with a conniving smirk plastered on his face.

“Darts, huh,” he mused softly, clearly conjuring up some sort of plan in that uniquely chaotic mind of his. Roy couldn’t be sure what his subordinate was thinking, but he had the odd feeling that it had something to do with the nights betting pool.

If he let Havoc have his way, he was fairly certain the sharpshooter would be reigning victorious at the end of the night.

Roy didn’t like the thought of that one bit. And not only because his underling would lord it over them for weeks. He glanced sidelong at Hawkeye, their reigning champion, and his brows furrowed.

Before he could let himself dwell on the feeling, Roy forced himself to stand. “Well, now that that’s settled,” he started with a clap, itching to leave the musty office for somewhere livelier. “Who’s driving?”

The military car rattled noisily as Havoc sped through the busy Friday night traffic, the First Lieutenant sitting in the passenger seat whilst the other four piled into the back.

Whenever he was in charge of driving, Hawkeye refused to sit anywhere other than beside him – likely so she could yell at him whenever his irresponsible driving endangered others, which he had to admit was more often than not.

As he caught sight of the woman’s stony expression, it seemed today was no different.

So far he’d already been berated twice for manoeuvring the vehicle too close to pedestrians, and he only grinned widely as he corrected his steering. He took it all in his stride, but even with someone keeping an eye on him, Havoc’s driving was still borderline reckless.

The team arrived at their local bar in record time, much to the First Lieutenants dismay. Havoc parked up on a quiet road beside the establishment, patting himself on the back for fitting the car into such a tight spot. He frowned at the dark heavy clouds hovering above them for a moment before joining the others as they filed into the building.

The group grabbed their preferred drinks, Hawkeye sticking with a lemon water, before congregating on the sofas towards the back, set out beside an old dart board nailed precariously to the wall.

"What are we playing again?” Havoc asked, shedding as much of his uniform as was appropriate in a public setting before taking a seat, leaving him in a tight black tee and his standard issue trousers.

“Six-oh-one, straight in" Fuery clarified.

“Sweet,” he murmured, turning to see the Colonel watching him with a peculiar expression. “What’s up boss, worried I’m gonna beat you?”

Mustang shrugged his shoulders half-heartedly before draping himself over the sofa. “Not one bit Havoc. You’re all going down anyway.”

“Fighting words,” he said with a low whistle. “You can’t snap your way to victory tonight. You sure you wanna subject yourself to the embarrassment of losing to one of your own sharpshooters?” Havoc joked, flashing his own skill set before his superior.

“I don’t recall ever mentioning myself,” Roy said smugly. “My money’s on Hawkeye,” he said, garnering a disappointed shake of the head from the woman in question.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about her winning,” Havoc taunted. “What about you boys?”

Breda went with Hawkeye and Fuery with Mustang, whilst Havoc managed to convince Falman to go with him. He wouldn’t mind splitting the winnings in the end if it meant he had someone’s confidence.

With the bets placed, the games began.

One by one, the team started several rounds of Fuery’s chosen game. Some time and several drinks later, Mustang collapsed onto the sofa beside Havoc with a pout.

“It would seem that Hawkeye remains the undefeated champion,” he said, clearly sulking at having been obliterated by the woman. "You're gonna need all the luck you can muster if you think you can take her on."

Havoc grinned at his superior. From the Colonels reaction, you wouldn’t think the guy had money riding on Hawkeye’s victory.

“Don’t worry about me, Sir. I’ve been watching her play all night, and I’m pretty sure I’ve figured out a strategy to take down the Hawk’s Eye.”

"Oh really?" Mustang asked, an eyebrow raised in clear amusement. "And how exactly do you plan on defeating my First Lieutenant?"

Havoc sat up a little, chewing at the end of his unlit cigarette. “The trick is to get under your opponents’ skin,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, is that all,” Mustang scoffed, his dark eyes drifting over where Hawkeye and Fuery were clearing the board for the next game. Of them all, Mustang knew the First Lieutenant the best, so he had good reason to believe that Havoc had no clue what he was doing.

But Havoc had known and observed the woman long enough to have an idea of things that would likely affect her in some way. And he only needed something to work once.

“That is all. Wish me luck Boss,” he said, stashing his cigarette into his pocket as he stood and waved towards the two members still at the dart board. “Alright, I’m up next Hawkeye!” he called, grabbing some spare darts off of Falman before joining them.

Hawkeye nodded to Havoc in a friendly manner as she rolled her own darts along her fingers. “After you, Second Lieutenant.”

“Are you ever gonna call me Jean?” Havoc grinned as he stepped up to the firing spot. When she didn’t respond, he merely shrugged and fired off his shot without warning. He smiled smugly as his dart scored him a triple twenty.

He vacated the space, using both hands to welcome his opponent up to the spot. He watched with eager eyes as Riza Hawkeye threw the first of her darts with all the aim and precision to be expected of the Hawk’s Eye and bagged herself a matching triple twenty, just as Havoc had expected.

“Would you look at that Hawkeye. It seems we’ve got the same game plan here.”

“I don’t think so Second Lieutenant. Mine ends with me winning,” she said plainly as the others hooted behind them.

Havoc worked his jaw with a grimace. “Well, then I guess it’s time to shake things up,” he said, flexing his fingers as he readied himself for the next shot. The game was on.

With a soft breath, he released his dart and it landed with a sharp thump on the dartboard.

He grinned widely at Hawkeye, totalling his current score before stepping aside to make room for her. As the woman raised her arm to fire, Havoc casually stepped towards her.

“Hey Hawkeye, you know your hair would look beautiful if you were to wear it down from time to time,” he said, voice low so only she could hear. He wore his best flirty pout, but from the sidelong glance she flashed him, she’d already clocked he was attempting to goad her.

She let off her shot without a single hitch, watching with narrowed eyes as it arced through the air and slammed onto the board, exactly where Havoc’s had landed. From the small smile she flashed at him, his words had had no effect – her shot had still hit exactly where she’d intended.

Shaking off his first failed attempt at distracting her, Havoc took another shot. He’d have to try harder to get to her next time.

When she got ready to fire again, Havoc talked about how mysterious she was, and that half the bar couldn’t help but stare at her - all stuff in his arsenal that would usually have girls swooning at him – but it had no effect on his colleague. Hawkeye only looked him dead in the eye as she fired, equalling the score between them with minimal effort for a second time.

As Havoc’s jaw hit the ground, the woman merely smirked at him. “You're gonna have to try harder than that Second Lieutenant.”

Havoc bit the inside of his cheek. If he played his shots right, he could win the game in two shots, but not if she kept matching him dart for dart. He had to get both shots perfect and get her to throw at least one, otherwise the night was done.

Glancing back at the sofa, he saw the team watching the two of them. Falman and Fuery gave him a thumbs up as he went to throw, whilst Breda gave the slightly more appreciated middle finger. Havoc couldn’t help but notice that Mustang wasn’t looking at him at all. The man’s gaze seemed to be stuck somewhere to his right where …

He hid his grin behind his hand as he spun to face the dart board again. It seemed like he’d found himself a trump card after all.

His threw his shot, and whilst Hawkeye was lining up her own, he took the opportunity to lean in towards her. She threw him a confused glance as he remained silent, but he knew that his timing had to be just right.

He waited patiently for her to pull the shot back, and right as she was about to release it, he struck.

“Say, how long have you and Mustang been together?”

He knew he had her under his thumb the minute her eyes widened in surprise, disrupting her focus enough that her hand slipped and messed with her aim. The dart he knew would have otherwise landed on the same spot as his own flew through the air wildly and landed on the outer edge of the board, giving him the edge he needed to win.

"Oohoo, Lieutenant,” he taunted. “What a shot!" he said, hopping in the spot with glee. A part of him couldn’t quite believe that his plan had even worked at all, and it became even more unbelievable when Hawkeye turned to him with a look of pure annoyance on that usually blank face of hers.

“The Colonel and I aren’t together.”

Havoc whistled low. "I only meant to ask how long you two have known each other Hawkeye. No need to get all worked up over it." He clicked his tongue softly and the First Lieutenant gave him a dark look, warning him against his next words.

He bit his tongue and Hawkeye simply sighed, blowing her hair out of her face before giving up the firing position. As Havoc took up the mantle to shoot, he knew he would have to get the shot perfect.

He knew his limits and getting this far on Riza Hawkeye’s bad side was more than enough for him to handle. Any more and it would definitely not be worth the payoff.

Her reaction at least confirmed something Havoc thought to himself, although he was too focused on winning the game to quite place what it was. As he lifted up his dart to his line of sight, he couldn’t help but give one final retort, knowing that this would be the final shot that brought him victory.

“Thank you Lieutenant. I believe you’ve just given me a solid win over almost everyone behind us,” he said loudly, his gaze drifting to the sofa. Everyone was watching him with bated breath, but he couldn’t help but notice that Mustang was the only one frowning.

Was he really that mad at losing the pool?

Havoc shook off the thought. “One bulls eye coming up,” he stated, making sure to aim for the fifty points that would bring his score down to zero.

Any higher or lower and the game was forfeit.

If he went too high he'd lose by default and going too low would give Hawkeye the chance to match his score again and end the game in a tie. He'd distracted her once tonight already, and he highly doubted she'd fall for it again. Besides, he already knew she'd find some way to get back at him for his words earlier and he was reluctant to dig himself in deeper.

Steadying his nerves and shaking hand, he pulled back to fire when he heard an unexpected name from his side.

“Catalina, what in god’s name are you wearing?!”

Havoc couldn’t help it. Even though he knew not to trust anything Mustang said at any point in the game, he turned without thought to see where the man was looking. The dart flew out of his hands without aim and he turned back just in time to see it veering off course and lodging into a wooden beam in the wall.

Fuck.

Damn that Mustang, he groaned internally. And damn that Catalina too, this was all her fault after all. He turned back to the bar behind him to scan the faces around them and berate her, but no matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t see Rebecca anywhere.

So what exactly had the Colonel-

It took one look at the man’s half hidden smirk for Havoc to know what was up. It seemed he wasn’t the only one playing dirty to win tonight. Hawkeye was too proper to fight fire with fire, but it seemed their superior had no such qualms.

Fuck.

He knew even before the First Lieutenant stood to take her next shot that the game was over. Having gained no points this round, she would easily knock her score to zero in the next round and tie with him.

Having already given up, Havoc fired half-heartedly during his next turn and barely hit the board, his score still too high to win. When Hawkeye got the bullseye she needed to hit zero, he heard the sofa behind him, who had all been holding their breath in anticipation, burst into life.

Havoc clicked his tongue in defeat, pulling out his cigarette as Fuery and Falman burst into celebratory whoops – he didn’t know why either of them were so excited since neither of them had placed their bets on Hawkeye, but who was he to judge.

A win was a win after all.

When Fuery thrust Hawkeyes hand in the air and named her the reigning champion, Havoc knew he’d need several drinks to take away the sharp sting of defeat. How did he play dirty, come so close, and then still end up losing?

It was embarrassing when he thought about it.

As he passed by the sofa on his way to the bar, the Colonel caught his eye with a smug smile. Havoc continued walking right past him without commenting on it. He was much too sober to be engaging in a dispute with his superior officer, that was for sure.

The rain splashed against the windows of the car with a rhythmic drumming, accompanied by the occasional swish of the wipers as Riza drove to the East City Barracks – the others having been too inebriated to even attempt to get behind the wheel.

Sergeant Fuery had called shotgun, and within seconds of sitting down, had proceeded to fall asleep against the door and add his light snores to the already loud weather outside.

Behind her, she could hear the other four bickering about their winnings, or losings, for the night. Well, Havoc seemed to be the only one bickering, the others were either gloating or attempting to keep from falling asleep.

“You know what I don’t even care anymore,” Havoc slurred, having attempted to drown his loss with his cup. “I had that win in that bag till you threw me off at the end. Why’d you do it Boss. Is it cause you really do have a thing for Hawkeye, huh?”

Riza tried her hardest to keep her eyes on the road, but she couldn’t resist peeking at rear-view mirror. Havoc was staring at their superior with a narrowed gaze, half leaning over the top of Falman who looked half a second away from passing out.

The Colonel’s face was blank and unreadable. He said nothing, responding only by lifting a wad of cash out from his pocket and waving it at Havoc in answer. The Second Lieutenant had the gall to look disappointed as his head bounced between Breda and Mustang, the two winners of the night, and she shook her head softly as she returned her eyes to the road.

The back of the car fell silent not long after, and Riza got the distinct impression that it was because they’d all fallen asleep. But when she glanced behind to confirm, she was met with a pair of dark eyes that watched her with an intense look.

The Colonel’s lips quirked into a little smile as she caught him, but he didn’t look away. Her gaze flitted between the road and the mirror, but his eyes remained on her up until the moment the car came to a halt and the others began to stir.

The group fell out of the car and straight into the dreary late night, with not a single one of them prepared enough to have brought along an umbrella. They shivered as the cold rain washed away their sleepiness, bidding their farewells as quickly as possible before beginning the short run to their barracks.

Mustang however hung back. Riza could feel his gaze on her as she locked up the car, and he fell into step with her as she began to walk.

“You didn’t have to wait for me Colonel. We’re headed in different directions,” she pointed out.

Mustang merely shrugged. His hair was already so soaked with rainwater that it clung to his forehead, and Riza had no doubt that her own was doing something similar. Although, she wasn’t the one with the aversion to water.

They walked together in silence, pausing at the edge of the street where they would part ways. She was about to wish him a goodnight when his hand landed firmly on her shoulder, keeping her from leaving.

“Hang on a second Lieutenant,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the wad of cash he’d waved at Havoc earlier. “Your winnings for the night.”

“I didn’t join the bet, Sir,” she clarified, refusing the money.

“Yeah, but I figure since you’re the only reason I won you should get a cut. You could buy yourself some nice flowers or something.”

“No thank you, Sir. It’s yours, you should spend it on whatever you like.”

“Can I spend it on flowers for you?”

“Roy, no,” she retorted. “I mean, Sir.”

Riza’s face burned hot at the momentary slip, but her superior officer barely seemed to care. As she looked up at him through her lashes, she saw him pouting like a child as he replaced the money in his coat pocket.

He turned to her with a sigh. “I suppose you’ll be going now.”

“Yes. Good night, Colonel.”

Mustang gave her a curt nod, but the smile that accompanied it made her dread having to answer the door in the morning for fear of drowning in blooms. She really hoped he wasn’t being serious about the flowers.

“Good night, Riza.”

...xxx...

thank you so much for reading! please excuse the terrible title, i have no brain power left to think of anything good lol. i've been trying to write this since 2017 and it's finally done! i still know next to nothing about darts though. thanks again, and i'd love to know your thoughts if you have the time x

#royai #royai fanfiction #fma #fma fanfiction #darts drinks and dirty tricks

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poiregourmande · 5 years

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under the cut, you’ll find: shyan, genderbent shyan, shyanara, maryan, styan and steshyan.

@anotherlostblogger | triangulation | ryan/sara/shane | explicit | 15k (wip) | Ryan's one of the leading crime reporters for The Feed when Shane transfers to their paper. It's only when he hears rumors that Shane is not what he seems that he decides to intervene, for better or for worse. (70s AU)

@uneventfulhouses | her lips are like the galaxy’s edge | marielle/ryan | explicit | 2k | Up, and up, and up they go, slowly. Ryan loves the view, can’t get enough of it, really, but right now, Mari pulls him in close, looking at him with those dazzling peridot eyes and Ryan gets lost, doesn’t know rhyme or reason or anything at all. “I love it up here,” she whispers. “We’re so far away from everything.” Her hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb soft over his bottom lip. “You wanna be far away?” he asks her. She smiles, soft and sweet, lips so pink. His right hand settles on the soft expanse of her thigh, high up, where only he gets to touch. or; things get a little spicy on the ferris wheel

@uneventfulhouses | ‘cause there’s no nicer witch than you | ryan/shane | mature | 4.9k | Ryan rolls his eyes, reaching up to grab Shane’s hand, tugging him down. Shane goes. He stretches out on the blanket, right in front of Ryan and he waves his hands over Shane’s body, like he’s performing a ritual. Like in movies. Shane laughs. “What are you doing?” Ryan smiles at him, eyes dark. “Magic.” Shane laughs again, rolling his eyes. Whatever makes Ryan happy, Shane will follow a long for a bit. “Are you hexing me?” “I’d never,” Ryan says. His smile is...mischievous, a little like he knows something Shane doesn’t. or; ryan makes a believer out of shane

@sequencefairy | you’ve ruined peaches for me | ryan/steven | teen | 2.9k | Steven eats the bushel of peaches one by one. Sometimes he has one first thing, with the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window, juice dripping down his wrists as he leans over the sink. Sometimes he comes home from visiting a local landmark and needs a snack. One time he takes one in his bag when he drives out to the edge of Lake Ontario and sits on a rock, listening to the waves and watching a sailboat tack in a lazy loop. On another morning, he stands again at the kitchen sink, peach cradled in his palms. He brings it to his face, inhaling the soft scent. It’s perfectly ripe.Or: A misunderstanding leads to a revelation.

@uneventfulhouses | ceiling fan | marielle/ryan | explicit | 1.3k | When she looks over at Ryan, he’s busy rolling another joint. Mari’s thirsty, hungry, but all she wants to do is smoke this, and then let him press his body against hers, let him fuck her til she aches from it, til her back hurts and her hips twinge.

@sequencefairy & @uneventfulhouses | wind me tighter than a wire | ryan/shane | explicit | 5k | “I just think,” Ryan says at lunch over their shared table, “that I kinda want him to fucking ruin me, you know?” Shane accidentally tries to inhale his La Croix. Ryan stands quickly to help him as he chokes, but Shane waves him off, setting the can down with shaking fingers. “You okay, man?” Ryan asks, all solicitous. Like he wasn’t the cause of Shane nearly drowning in far too expensive, grapefruit flavoured sparkling water.“Yeah,” Shane answers, hoarse. He feels faint and there’s a roaring in his ears that he attributes to the momentary loss of the ability to breathe. Or: Ryan’s like, “I’m just aesthetically attracted to some men in particular,” and “I don’t want to do anything about it,” and “alright, maybe, sometimes, I think about getting lovingly railed by Henry Cavill while I jerk off but who doesn’t?” and Shane is maybe losing his mind about it. ��

@voltairesdick | on the line | ryan/sara/shane | explicit | 4k | Ryan’s been away in New York for two weeks and he’s hated every second of it. He doesn’t want to seem ungrateful, since he’s over there for work, all expenses paid. Ryan's been attending meetings and pitches and meeting with producers and whatnot, stuff Shane would rather not do if he had the choice, but he’s hated it. Sure, the food’s pretty great, Ryan could eat New York pizza until it comes out of his ears. And he guesses the views are stellar, so he's had the chance to flex his photography muscles in his downtime; NY architecture is way more photogenic than LA skyscrapers and white brick. Plus, he secured loads of projects down and finalised important shit, like he was supposed to on this trip. But being away from Sara and Shane, and even their little orange furball has been miserable.

@a-slow-disaster | got nothing to lose but emptiness and hang-ups | ryan/sara/shane | explicit | 17k | “My girlfriend wants to have a threesome,” Shane tells him. “A, uh—a ménage a trois, if you will.” Ryan absolutely will not. This is not a place for such conversations, even if they were the kind of friends who have them—and they aren’t. There’s nowhere Shane could say that to him and have it be normal, but in this place it strikes Ryan as particularly unseemly.“Shane, this is a haunted prison,” Ryan says helplessly, the way you might say sir, this is an Arby’s.

@sequencefairy | and then some | ryan/shane | explicit | 2k | “I’m willing to delay coffee,” Ryan says, and rolls Shane over so he can straddle Shane’s hips. Now he gets to look down at Shane, which is also a novel situation. Here’s to the new decade and getting new perspective, and all that, Ryan thinks. He’d tell Shane about this brainwave, but Shane’s shifting underneath him and it is all kinds of distracting.“How noble of you.” Shane’s hands settle on Ryan’s hips, fingers slipping up under the soft t-shirt Ryan was sleeping in. Shane’s hands spread out against Ryan’s lower back, palms warm against Ryan’s skin.“I’m very noble, excuse you,” Ryan complains.It's late on New Year's Day and they've woken up hungover and Ryan is feelin' frisky.

@sequencefairy | walking on a string | ryan/shane | explicit | 3k | As he’s reaching over his shoulder with his loofah, to soap the back of his neck, Ryan’s thoughts stray, as usual, to Shane. Shane and his shoulders; the way they shift and move beneath his shirts. Shane’s hands; capable, deceptively-delicate, long-fingered, big enough to wrap all the way around one of Ryan’s wrists.Ryan's pining, he knows, but it's just that Shane is well, Shane.

@sequencefairy | information action ratio | ryan/sara/shane | explicit | 8.9k | “She really tied one on, didn’t she?” Ryan mutters, as Shane’s hauling Sara back in. She’s giggling and stumbles into Shane, but she still manages to hear Ryan. “I’ll show you tied one on,” she says, which is a nonsense phrase, but, for some reason, it sticks in Ryan’s brain. He can feel it burrowing into his grey matter, wonders when it will come back and what it will bring with it.He decides, later, after they're all lying in a sweaty tangle, that it was the way she said it; eyes dark and knowing, certain of the way the remark would land.The one where Ryan wants to be tied up and Shane and Sara help him out with fulfilling that desire.

@ebonybow | fall through | ryan/sara/shane | explicit | 8.3k | Ryan unlocks his phone, sliding it across the table so Shane can read the messages from Byron, timestamped twenty minutes earlier.“Sorry man, our flights are grounded because of some freak storm. Waiting to see if we can get one out tomorrow,” Shane reads aloud, and Sara pouts down at the screen. “Fuck. Sorry, Ryan,” he says, and Sara echoes the sentiment quietly, sipping from her own mug. He can smell her ginger tea from here. He clears his throat and can taste it on the back of his tongue.

#shyan #shyanara #steshyan #buzzfeed unclean #buzzfic #watcherfic #watcher after dark #fic recs

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divineluce · 4 years

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An Overdue Encounter || Rio & Luce

Location: Scribe HQ

Timing: Early July 2nd

Tagging: @3starsquinn & @divineluce

Summary: Both a little battered and broken, Rio and Luce do a some digging to figure out what exactly is up with Remmy’s strange necklace.

Orion always felt weird showing the Scribrary off to people for the first time. Though, technically since Luce had been here before with Winston part of those nerves should technically be null and void, right? Well any normal human without anxiety would certainly think that made sense. Unfortunately, Rio wasn’t one of those normal humans. Instead, he was a bucket of nerves around Luce. Both because he didn’t know her and because he had never been instead of the building with her before. Plus, it didn’t help that he was still sporting the black eye, split cheek and wrist brace following his encounter with the trolls. The pain in his ribs had settled a bit at least. It was no longer the main source of his pain, a subtle pain surrounding his torso in its place. The bruising around his stomach and back from the tree and subsequent fall to the ground had done a number on him. But the ribs really only hurt if he took too deep of a breath. Or laughed too loudly. Or moved. “Hey there. So uh- Winston showed you the place already, I know. Did they take you to the main library area?”

For about the twentieth time this week, Luce was thankful that she drove a big ass 4x4. It could handle the rough terrain outside of town easily and meant that, instead of hauling ass through the woods, she was able to drive at least a good chunk of the way. Still, the effort reminded her that her ribs were still very much broken. And no amount of human medicine could fix this particular problem. No, only time could heal her broken ribs. Time, or her mother finding out what they’d done. Nope. She could suffer through the pain. As the Scribe building came into view she saw that Rio the Pink Haired Kid, as she’d been thinking of them, was now Rio the Blue Haired Kid. The really fucking beat up blue haired kid, what the fuck? Taking in his appearance, Luce let out a low whistle. “You look about as good as I feel and I was in the hospital all last weekend. Fuck. What happened to you?” She asked. “And yeah, they did. We mostly stayed in the area about real fexted up shit.” Luce joked.

Orion was willing to admit that he was very intimidated by Luce. She seemed confident and social and way too cool to hang out around someone like Rio. Not that the two were necessarily hanging out. This was business, of sorts. Rio and Winston were Scribes, for lack of a better word at least. Helping people like this was supposed to be what they did. So Rio was here to help Luce in spite of how awkward it may be. “Ah, uh accident.” Rio shrugged, trying to downplay the total breakdowns he had been having the entire week. “Or well, I got attacked. Which was sort of an accident. But it looks worse than it actually is.” That probably wasn’t true, considering his ribs, but it was mostly true. He healed quickly. “Great! Well then we’re off to a good start. We can head in and start figuring out which sections we need to pull.” Rio motioned Luce to follow him. He paused by the tree to that he used to open the barrier and slipped inside the building once it had revealed itself. “So what information are you looking for?”

“An accident. I call bullshit on that. What attacked you?” Luce asked as she followed Rio inside the library and immediately sneezed as she entered the dusty building. The reaction sent a wave of pain through her ribs and she let out a strangled groan of pain, clutching her ribs. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She muttered, shaking her head as she leaned against one of the nearby bookshelves. Pain ran up the entire right side of her body and she took a few deep breaths to steady herself. It took longer than she wanted, but eventually the pain subsided and she was able to stand on her own. “Uh…” She said, brain buffering in the aftermath. There was so much that she wanted to know. Needed to know. About her magic, why the flames still felt low. About Bea, and why she had come back so different. But, the first thing that came to mind was the way that Remmy had writhed on the ground of Bea’s house, clutching at the necklace. At the way she’d felt magic coursing through them. Familiar magic, that she couldn’t quite place. “Do you know if there’d be a book about… magical items that can hurt people? Like… fucked up necklaces or anything like that?”

Clearly, Luce didn’t believe Orion. Not that he could blame her. Rio’s face looked pretty intentionally damaged. But Rio liked to stick to it that something had gone wrong during their encounter. If only he could have figured out a way to stop the trolls from attacking. “Trolls attacked me. But it was sort of an accident. Or like a misunderstanding. It shouldn’t have gone down the way it did.” Rio didn’t know how much to tell Luce. Didn’t even know if she cared to hear about Rio’s personal life. Rio certainly didn’t need to relive that moment over and over again. Not that he could help it much, when his brain refused to do anything but play it over and over again every time he closed eyes. Speaking of that, what was hurting Luce? She was cursing up a storm and gripping at her side in pain. It looked exactly like Rio had done a few days ago. “Hey uh- you okay there?” She certainly didn’t seem okay for a minute, until she rested against the bookshelf long enough to reclaim herself. “I uh-” Rio paused, considering the topic before answering again, “Maybe magical artifacts? Either that or it’s worth checking the section on hunting. Could be some kind of gross, screwed up hunter’s tool.” He groaned. He had been avoiding the section written for and by hunters since he got here. He knew enough about that twisted world. He didn’t need any other knowledge. Until maybe now it seemed. “How were they hurt? Like physically harmed? Mentally?” Rio turned a corner, sharp and walked down the rows, cutting into an aisle and pausing near a stack of books talking about magical artifacts, “There’s a couple of Scribe stories in here specifically about tools and artifacts local to White Crest. May be a good start assuming your friend lives in town?”

Still recovering from the bout of pain, Luce did her best to focus on Rio’s weird ass words. An accident with trolls? A misunderstanding? What the fuck? “A mix up with trolls? You know? Sure. That makes about as much sense as anything else in this town.” She said with a grimace and a shake of her head. If that was what he said happened, that was what happened. Waving their concern away with a hand, Luce nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just some fucked up ribs, that’s all.” She dismissed his concern. She didn’t really want his pity-- or anyones. She just wanted to get some information and get out of here. “A hunter tool… What do you mean by that?” She asked as she followed Rio through the winding bookshelves of the library. Yeah, she knew about Hunters, knew that there were different people who specialized in different things. But she always just thought they ran around with guns or swords or stakes. Nothing fancy or anything like that. “Uh… Physically, I think. I’m not sure.” She said, flexing her hand as she trailed behind him. Even though it was just a memory now, Luce could feel the flow of magic, still tingling across her fingers. “They’re not my friend.” She said, the words coming out as a knee jerk reaction. “They’re just someone I know. And they don’t,” She paused, trying to sift through the words buzzing in her head, “They shouldn’t be hurt like that. But yeah. They live in White Crest.”

Considering Luce had just brought her sister back from the dead, Orion knew that she knew about the supernatural. At least when it came to magic stuff. So he nodded, “Yeah that’s uh- sorta my philosophy when I learn new things now too. Just try to go with the flow.” Refusing to go with the flow could get people killed in this town. What a coincidence, Luce’s ribs were injured too?” Oh really? That’s so weird I-” He trailed off, considering that maybe he shouldn’t finish that sentence. If he came clean about his ribs being broken, then Luce might rightfully wonder why Rio wasn’t in more pain. He was honestly, but the hunter healing had already started working and the pain was more of a constant, but dull stinging. Way more manageable than it had been the first few days after he had been attacked. “The troll uh, punched me. In my side. So I’m pretty sore too. But yours sounds… more serious. Did you break anything?” Rio asked Luce. Were the injuries from the spell? He couldn’t be sure, but it made him nervous. If something like that had happened, how did Winston escape with just a scar and weird magic?

“Uh- hunters that specifically go after the supernatural? There’s sort of a… code that a lot of them follow, but not everyone. Some will kill indiscriminately. And some like to… play with their victims. With magic and some other torture devices. From what I’ve read. It could be something like that.” He certainly hoped that wasn’t the case. Especially for Luce’s friend. Or her not friend. Whoever it was that Luce knew. “But I agree, nobody deserves to be treated like that.” Rio settled on the books that he pulled and made his way through more aisles until he got to the hunter section. It was the dustiest section, one that Rio very rarely pulled from and mostly ignored. He had spent so little time over here that he wasn’t even sure what he should be looking for, so he studied the books carefully as he spoke, “So… You seem to know a lot about magic.” Rio began, eyes trained on the book titles so he didn’t have to meet Luce’s eyes. “Can you do magic too? That spell… that Winston helped with. The books don’t make it sound like a one person job. Actually even with multiple people it still usually fails from the sounds of it. So they had to have help from other magic users, yeah?”

“A troll punched you. Well, how about that.” Luce said, casting a look of surprise at the kid. As beat up as he was, he definitely didn’t look like he’d been beat to shit by a troll. Must have gotten lucky? The troll must have whiffed the punch. Rio wasn’t exactly a bulky, Dwayne the Rock Johnson looking guy. He honestly looked like a stiff breeze might knock him over. But, she really didn’t care to know about his situation. If he said it was an accident, it was an accident. She had more important things to worry about and so did he. “Doesn’t matter, it’s healing.” She said with a dismissive wave as they continued to walk between shelves and rows of books.

At his explanation, Luce resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew what hunters were, yeah. She just didn’t think that they would ever torture people. Weren’t they just meant to keep people safe? But, as he continued speaking, her eyes narrowed. “Play with their victims? Torture devices? Fuck.” She said shaking her head. Was Remmy being hunted? Had someone figured out they were a zombie and wasn’t satisfied with just killing them? Was that what was going on there? As Rio began to scrutinize the various books, Luce trailed behind him, not sure what she was meant to be looking for. None of the titles made much sense to her-- there weren’t any books called “Fucked Up Cursed Necklaces And How To Destroy Them.” At his question, Luce reached for the magic within her, but came back with nothing but barely glowing embers amidst ash. Her jaw clenched at that. It had been a week since they’d brought her back. And yet, her magic was still burning low. She had to get it back, had to make sure it came back. “Yeah. I can.” She answered, not bothering to say more than that. “What about that book?” She asked, pointing to what looked like an old hunter manual.

One thing Orion noticed about Luce was that she didn’t seem to ask a lot of questions. He appreciated it right now. The last thing he wanted to do was try to explain how he got away from them or what he did to it. She seemed to move on from the topic pretty quickly too. Flippantly disregarding any concern for her injuries and trying to focus back on the subject at hand. Rio didn’t have much choice but to oblige. Not that he’d try to dig any deeper regardless. He had already learned the repercussions of trying to dig too deeply into someone’s life. “Yeah uh- some hunters aren’t all about that sense of duty or honor or whatever. There are some sick, sick people out there.” Rio shivered at the thought, his mind jumping to the basement of his parent’s house. He wished that memory magic wasn’t as dangerous as Luce said it was. Maybe he could make himself forget the basement.

So Luce was a spell-caster too? Did that run in families? The hunter gene was not necessarily genetic though it did some to be more prevalent in parents that were hunters. Maybe magic was similar? But it certainly helped explain how something like necromancy could be accomplished. Rio shook the thought away and grabbed the book that Luce had pointed out, “Definitely worth a try.” He added it to the ever growing stuck tucked beneath his arm. “We can set up at one of the tables around the corner here. We’ve got a lot of reading to do.”

“You can say that again,” Luce murmured, her mind going back to Montgomery’s home and how it stood as a tribute to cruelty and death. She’d seen the wings of pixies and Fae pinned up in boxes, she’d seen the jars full of the heads of Montgomery’s victims, had seen her own sister’s held in one herself. She knew just how cruel hunters could be. How vicious they could be. The idea that Remmy might be facing someone who would toy with them until they died… She swallowed. “Yeah, people do some really fucking sick things just because they can. I don’t want that to happen to anyone else.”

“Sounds good to me.” She said and followed him towards one of the tables. Brushing off a layer of dust with her hand, Luce immediately sat down at one of the chairs and began to flick through the pages. Studying. Reading. This sort of shit had never been her forte. Not in school, not during the coven tutoring sessions, not at home when her mother had tried to drill into her brain the nuances of how their magic could be expanded beyond just the flame. But, she needed to figure shit out. She needed to find out why Remmy was wearing that fucked up necklace, how she could get it off, and make sure that they were safe. As the minutes ticked away, Luce looked over at Rio. “How did you and Winston find this place anyways?”

Orion has studying down pat now. He was becoming surprisingly good at picking out keywords by now. He can scan through multiple pages a minute, sometimes multiple books if he was hyped up enough on energy drinks. Today, he stuck with the one and flipped through page after page trying to find something that stuck out to him. He was starting with magical artifacts. He was afraid reading the hunter manual would mess with his mind too much. “Well, long story uh- There used to be these people that called themselves Scribes. Not sure if you would’ve heard of them they’ve been mostly defunct since the late 80’s.” Rio began explaining, unsure how much information someone may have on the subject. He figured most people around their age had never heard of the Scribes before. “But my uncle knew of them. He was one of them for a little bit before it shut down. He showed this building to me once when I was a kid and a few months ago I... found myself back” That was a simple explanation, but the truth of it. There wasn’t much more to it than that. “As for Winston, well I don’t know how they did it, but they sleepwalked in here one night out of nowhere. I was... sleeping here at the time and happened to run into them. We had only met once before that but well I guess the rest is history.” He couldn’t stop himself from grinning at the thought. How lucky Rio had been, to be sleeping here that night.

Rio got back to studying, abandoning a book in favor of a new one. This one was written by a hunter, who happened to also be a scribe. So much for neutrality. He dove into the book, searching for anything that may stick out. “I don’t want to... ask too much about your acquaintance because it’s none of my business. But are they something other than a normal human? Like would they have abilities that needed suppressed? It may help narrow down the search.”

Listening to Rio speak, Luce looked at some of the diagrams drawn in the book she had selected. It was some kind of fucked up trap, some monstrous combination of jagged silver teeth and springs. No doubt it was meant to capture werewolves in the most painful way possible. The thought of a hunter going after Ulfric, or Ariana, trapping them in something like that? It put a bitter taste in her throat. But, this wasn’t what she was looking for. She needed to focus. “Scribes. Seems like they took the title seriously, this place is like a fucking warehouse of books.” She said gesturing around them. As Rio explained the circumstances of how Winston came to find the massive library, “Hm. Sounds like the two of you were at the right place at the right time. Worked out well.” She nodded before shutting the book. This was just all about how to trap things, not how to keep them controlled.

Luce let out a quick puff of air, blowing a few strands of hair from her eyes. She didn’t really want to go spilling Remmy’s secrets to someone, but… She didn’t really have a choice. And besides, it’s not like Rio knew who they were. She hadn’t even told him their name. “They’re a zombie. They’ve been wearing this necklace for a couple weeks-- I didn’t even really pay attention to it. But, something happened the other day and it… brought them to the ground. They were screaming. In pain.” Luce grimaced at the memory, her fingers clenching into a fist against the table. “I need to know what that thing is and how to destroy it.”

Orion nodded, “They did. A little too serious sometimes, probably.” It had to be one of the reasons why they eventually fell. “They kept records of hundreds of years of supernatural history. Maybe more. They had chapters all over the world. But they were a little... stubborn.” Rio tried to think of the easiest way to sum up their collapse, “They didn’t want to modernize. So they died out.”

A zombie? Maybe this friend was Morgan. Or maybe it was connected to Morgan or Ashley or whoever was turning others into zombies in this town. It didn’t matter at this point, all that mattered was that something was torturing zombies. “I’ve actually been trying to do some readings about zombies recently. I don’t know a ton about them, but I bet whatever it is they use to suppress their abilities.” Rio hopped off of the table where he had been resting and turned to Luce, “I’m going to go try to find some books specifically about Slayers. We may have better luck finding something specific to the undead.”

“Makes sense. Gotta change with the times, or you’ll get left in the dust.” Luce brushed her hand over the cover of one of the leather bound books, nose wrinkling. “Literally.” A part of her wondered if that was what Rio was doing here, trying to bring the Scribes into the modern day. But, a much larger part of her just didn’t care. Maybe another time, under different circumstances, she would have been interested to figure out just how he knew about this, how his uncle was aware of the Scribes to begin with. But, she shelved that thought. She had more important things to worry about.

“I know… a bit.” Luce said, the words seeming to stick in the back of her throat. She could still remember what it felt like, waking up as a zombie through Morgan’s memories. She could still remember how incapable of feeling anything at all, she had been. “Their sense of touch, it’s muted. Really, really muted. It’s like being underwater, but it’s like… it’s like there’s an ocean of distance between you and your skin.” She shuddered, forcing the memory from her mind. Was that how Remmy felt? All the time? “Yeah. Slayer shit. That might be the place to look.” Luce said, grabbing a random book from the stack. As she did, she noticed a small section in the book about ghosts… As she stared at the scribblings, note in the margin from a human exorcist, she swallowed. Ghosts. They had a way of making their way back to those they’d developed a… fondness for. A shiver went down her spine as she stared at the looping handwriting. “Slayers, they deal with, vampires, zombies, that sort of thing, right? They wouldn’t come after someone who… was brought back?” She asked as she thumbed through the pages.

Orion chuckled at Luce’s joke, “Exactly.” But despite all the flaws that the old scribes had, they still had the ability to help a lot of people through their text. If Rio could turn that into something modern and useful, maybe he’d be able to make something of the life his parents had tried to force on him.

“Muted” Rio repeated the phrase back to himself, latching onto the words that Luce spoke. “I was told once that they don’t feel pain like humans do. So it must be something like you described. Muted.” Rio searched through the hunter catalogue again until finding some information regarding slayers. It was the only branch of hunters that Rio wasn’t very familiar with. Growing up in a household of beast hunters and wardens, they knew about vampires and zombies but had never been appropriately taught about them. As he passed Luce to head back to the table he noticed the book she was holding and paused. “I- don’t know honestly. I think it depends on the hunter.” He wished he had a better answer for Luce. He could only assume that this had to do with her sister. “As long as everything went right... she should technically be alive, y’know? The undead don’t have heartbeats and they can only survive on blood or flesh from the living. Those are totally different.” He didn’t know if that helped or not. He couldn’t be sure because he didn’t know all of Bea’s situation. Rio crawled back onto the table and rested his feet against one of the old chairs. “I know a slayer. He’s not.... I don’t know if I can trust him fully. He seems like a good person, but I don’t know his philosophy on the undead. I could ask if he knows anything about the necklaces?”

“Yeah. It’s nothing like being human at all.” Luce replied, her fingers flexing, as though to remind herself that she was still here. She was still human. She was still alive. Swallowing, she listened to Rio intently. The last thing she wanted was for their efforts to have only put Bea in further danger. She was aware of the consequences that came with going against nature, knew that everything had a price that must be paid. But, she wasn’t going to let her sister pay it again. “Fair enough.” She murmured, scanning the pages with ever growing dismay. Just as she was about to shut the book in frustration, her finger came to rest on a picture of a… large armband? Something used to cripple creatures. To keep them malleable, easy to work with. “No-- no, Rio. Look. This. Do you think this might be what someone’s using on them?”

It’s nothing like being human at all. Orion had always been so sure that despite the differences, supernatural species were still human. Even though werewolves changed form and vampires had previously died, at their core they were still human beings. But was that fair of Rio to determine? Morgan was adamant that she was a zombie now. Not a human, but a person. Ariana seemed content identifying as a werewolf instead of a human being. Was it fair for him to thrust that upon them if they didn’t even want to be human? Could he blame them? He furrowed his brow, pondering this along with Luce’s statement. Maybe they really weren’t like humans at all. It didn’t change Rio’s point of view or his morals. They still didn’t deserve to die. Or worse, live through the torture that some humans put them through. When Luce found something, Rio perked up from his position and practically crawled across the table to take a look. “Interesting. How the heck did they build something that helps neutralize the undead like that? Some kind of magic or drug maybe? Either way, they would have to have a way to refuel the magic or resupply the drug. That means someone in town would have to know about it.” Rio guessed. This was nothing more than a hypothesis, and one without much backing either. His expertise wasn’t within magic or supernatural drugs. “Hey if you want to like... borrow a couple of these books to do your own research you can. I just need to log which ones you take. And uh- I’ll sorta need them back. Eventually at least.”

“It’s gotta be magic. If it was a drug, there’d have to be some kind of like… needle or something attached to it right?” Luce said, her brow furrowing as she tried to figure out the diagram that sat before her. “Yeah… They’d need a source or some kind of like, transmitter at the very least.” She said, pushing the book away in disgust. The fact that someone, anyone, would ever make a device like that was horrifying. Not that she had any room to talk. She’d done some terrible things herself. Swallowing, she pushed the images of August from her mind. No. That had been different. August had deserved every last ounce of his suffering. Remmy… they’d never done anything to warrant the kind of pain she’d seen them in. At Rio’s words, Luce blinked in surprise. “Are you sure? I… Yeah. I’d appreciate that.”

Knowing nothing about supernatural drugs (or real drugs for that matter), Orion was going to take Luce’s word on that. It made sense. Unless there was a drug that could slip in through pores to enter the blood system. That wasn’t completely outside of the realm of possibility, but magic certainly seemed more likely. It wouldn’t have been the first time that hunters and magic had teamed up for some mutually beneficial cause. “That would imply that whoever is doing either must either know magic or has connections with someone that can do it, right? I don’t know if that narrows things down at all.” How many spell casters were in this town? The number was probably higher than Rio thought it was. “And yeah- totally serious. Winston and I are working on trying to digitize the information here. So that it’s more easily accessible to those that need it. But uh- as you can probably see, we have our work cut out for us on that. So, I don’t think we will be pressed if you borrow some stuff for a while. I’ll just want it back eventually so I can start to move it over.” Rio pulled his laptop from his book bag and pulled up the tracker that he had created when Blanche started stealing books. If people would be coming in and out with different books, Rio wanted a way to keep track of it. “I’ll just log anything you end up taking in here. So I know which ones are gone right now? If that’s okay.”

“It does, yeah.” Luce said, her troubled expression only growing even more. If there was some kind of magic user who was out here, making these kind of torture devices, they had to be stopped. They were a danger to the community, to everyone. If they could cripple Remmy like that, they could kill anyone in an instant. She had to make sure that whoever was responsible for these things got dealt with. Ideally, in a permanent way. Luce regarded Rio in a new light. He really was just a… good kid, wasn’t he? Trying to do his best or whatever. “Yeah. Sure, okay.” She said, grabbing her phone and typing down the name of the book she was currently looking at. Luce skimmed through one of the other books and her fingers fell on a section on ghosts, poltergeists, something called kinterwibs and other kinds of hauntings. Jaw tightening, she added it to the pile. “I’m gonna be taking these two. But, uh… I think I found out about as much as I can here.” She said, awkwardly shifting as best as she could without jarring her ribs. “Thanks, Rio.”

Orion was a bit relieved that Luce seemed ready to leave. He had been trying to hide how much pain he had been in since he forced himself out of bed to head over towards the forest. Rio hadn’t even really wanted to come, but whatever Luce was looking into had seemed pretty important. “Thanks. For logging that. I know it seems stupid being a mostly abandoned library and all. But.. I just want to make sure to get as much information as I can.” Rio added the books to his list and slowly crawled down from the table and began gathering his things. “Of course. Happy to help. Winston’s super important to me. So all of their friends are too.” Rio shrugged, slowly pulling his arms through the book bag. “And I’m happy to help with anything else you may need to. Anything you tell me is strictly confidential, cool?”

Grabbing the two books from the table, Luce did her best to rise from the chair without twinging her ribs. She grimaced at Rio’s words. What the fuck was up with people in this town saying that the things they did was stupid? First Remmy, now Rio. Christ. “It’s not stupid, it’s clearly important to you. Don’t discount what you’re doing like that.” She muttered, with a shake of her head. “But yeah. Thanks. I’ll make sure to get these back to you when I’m done.” Luce said with a nod. She bristled a little at the sound of friends, but did her best to push that feeling down. Winston was… yeah. She guessed they were a friend. More family than friend at this point, but Rio didn’t need to know that. That said, he didn’t need to know any more about her than he already did. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She said before heading out of the library, shoulders squared as she pushed through the doorway. Sweet kid, naive, a little too trusting, a little too kind. She hoped nothing else happened to him. As she walked out to her 4x4, Luce looked down at the books in her hands, at the thick leather-bound volumes. She had a lot of reading ahead of her. But, if it meant stopping Remmy’s pain, she’d do it.

#p: orion quinn #p: aoe #chatzy #wickedswriting

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