#i just...would like the freedom id like to keep my job rather than move across the country to do who knows what | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

remember-to-be-gentle · 3 years

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Subject: BNHA, Dabi aka Touya Todoroki

Title: House Party Bully 4 (NSFW, fem reader)

Trigger Warning: Non con, pregnancy, (accidentally) induced labor, drinking, smoking (weed), obsession, possessive behavior, forced marriage, dick piercings, family trauma, voyeurism, drunk kisses, jealousy

“Avoid,” Touya said slowly, finally, “the others when you can.” It was obvious advice, especially after what his siblings had done to you, but you just nodded and laid on his bed. He glanced at you and sat down beside you. For a moment, you thought he’d rub your back or pet your hair, but he pushed you onto your side, forcing you to face away from him. “Laying on your side is better for the baby.”

Right. Even if Touya was, arguably, better than the rest of his family, he was just like them: only after the fetus growing inside you and the things that came with it. Milk, whatever prestige fucked up rich families like these got with grandkids, and ownership over you.

“I’ll get a job,” Touya added suddenly, “a good one, then we can move out.”

We. The word felt like an umbilical cord around your throat, connecting you to him and the baby you didn’t want. You were choking. But you needed him. Just as much as he wanted you to need him. “Don’t worry about moving out,” you mumbled into his sheets, “I’m sure your father wouldn’t let us.”

Touya twitched beside you. He seemed to be thinking because he was quiet for a long moment. The mattress caved closer to you. “Hey,” he said, voice soft, “you didn’t like my dad better, right?”

Something cold washed down your body. Every muscle from your head to your toes froze and curled in on themselves. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You felt him roll over, his back nearly pressed against yours, heat soaking through your shirt with unwanted comfort. He was silent for a moment, like he’d rather drop the subject, but then pushed on to say, “You didn’t like him better when he fucked you, did you?”

With as much ice as you could muster you replied, “I didn’t like it when either of you assaulted me.”

That seemed to rile Touya up because the bed shook with the weight of him leaping off it. He grabbed your arm, forced you onto your back, his grip bruising. “I didn’t assault you!”

“Then what would you prefer to call it Touya?” You glared at him, the ice in your body replaced with insufferable heat. “Rape? Teaching a rat a lesson?”

He backed off at that. “No, it was...” He bit his lip. “Forget it.”

He made for the door and your rage washed away with panic. “Where are you going?” You may have hated him, but you needed him to keep the hungry mouths of his siblings off you.

Touya stopped in the doorway and sighed. “I’m going out. The others won’t bother you if you stay in here.” He started to close the door behind him and stopped, one cerulean eye locking onto you. “If you need anything, you can call me.”

You wanted to say something back, something biting and cruel, but the ugly truth was that he’d saved you and you needed him. Your throat was tight when you said, “Okay.”

The door shut.

You laid back on your side. How did Touya bullying you turn into this? You were both just college students and suddenly you’d been roped into his fucked up family and forced to have his fucked up baby. There was a little him inside you. The thought made you sick to your stomach, but you laid there and held onto the sheets that smelled like your captor. The safest Todoroki. What an ironic thought. It was like calling him the least poisonous snake: regardless of which one sunk their teeth into you, you weren't coming out unscathed.

At some point you must have fallen asleep because you were startled awake by your phone ringing. You were too groggy to check the ID and answered. “Hello?” Your voice was weak from disuse.

“Did I wake you?” Ice ate your bones when you heard the voice. Deep baritone and stone cold. Enji Todoroki continued, “Sorry. I managed to pull some strings with a friend of mine to keep this quiet. Long story short,” he paused, “welcome to the family Mrs. Todoroki.”

Every word, every reaction, every thought vanished into a vacuum, a vacuum named shock. He’d done it. Any hope of escape after the baby was born vanished just like that. You were branded with his name just as your body would never be the same after it delivered his baby. You couldn’t even muster up the strength to hang up the phone.

“Rei and I,” Enji continued as if he hadn’t just destroyed your future, “are on our way home now. I’ve got another doctor’s appointment scheduled tomorrow.”

You didn’t reply.

“We’ll able to find out the gender of the baby,” he said, “Rei’s eager to know but Touya might prefer the surprise. Do you have a preference?”

The blank space that held your feelings erupted. Your preference? Now he cared about your fucking preference? Fuck no. Fuck that. You screamed and hung up, throwing your phone across the room into a pile of dirty laundry. You wanted to punch Enji in his stupid face. You wanted to kick Touya in his breeding balls. You wanted to... You screamed again and this time tears streamed down your face. Defiance leaked out of you with every sob. You were trapped.

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

For the next four and a half months it felt like Enji was keep you away from Touya. He dragged you from appointment to appointment, insisting you stay in your room. Thankfully the other three hadn't so much as knocked on your door, but that didn't ease your anxiety in the slightest.

As your belly grew rounder it became harder to attend classes without people gossiping, especially with Enji by your side. When you couldn't fit into your desk one day it hit you that you'd have to balance Touya, school, and a needy baby. Suddenly you weren't so sure you wanted to attend classes in person.

It didn't help when you could feel it, yes it because Enji had decided to withhold the baby's gender, kicking inside you. It hurt. It was like being bullied by Touya all over again. The thought made you want to cry, but you were in class and simply bit your lip. The baby kept kicking.

After you got home from school, there was a note on the kitchen counter. "Out of town for Shouto's jujutsu match. Back Monday - Enji." The house was empty. You had the Todoroki manor to yourself. Was this your chance to run, while they were all gone?

But the front door opened. Touya stumbled in with his friends behind him. He looked at you, snarled, and walked away.

Toga smiled at you. "We're having a party tonight, feel free to come and bring your friend, too!" She pointed at your swollen belly and giggled following Touya.

Shigaraki and Spinner barely nodded at you. Twice gave you a thumbs up.

So this was how Touya got away with his parties.

But still the party could be your escape. A million cars on the lawn and—

You doubled over grabbing the counter to hold yourself steady. Throbbing pain burst around belly button as the tiny Todoroki inside you reminded you of it's presence. The baby could come any day. And then where would you go? Even if you ran you'd be alone, almost due, without any of your things: including the funds needed to simply give birth. No wonder Enji was comfortable taking off: you didn't have another option to leave without endangering yourself or the baby. Fuck.

Grabbing a snack you went back to your room and went to sleep.

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

Pounding base ripped you from your dreams. Each vibration traveling down your body and making every cell electrify. A familiar headache formed behind your eyes. This was just like the party nine months ago, disorienting and loud and fuck... The base was making you sick. This needed to stop. Touya. You needed to find Touya.

Quickly you pulled out your phone and called the number that felt like signing away your soul to the devil. It rang and rang and rang. Nothing. Shit. At least you knew where Touya would be. He could stop this.

You made for the door, wobbling and waddling with that cursed ten pound weight on your stomach. Nausea made it hard to focus on where you were. You wanted to vomit. You used the walls to help keep yourself upright as you descended into the bass, cringing when it started pumping louder.

Just gotta get to the study, you thought, that's where Touya always was with his friends.

Even thought you'd lived here for what felt like the better part of your pregnancy, you hadn't had the freedom to walk around alone. It was so big and twisted and confusing, especially since you could barely move. But you could also remember when Touya dragged you to his room, the smell of liquor on his breath and weed in his clothes.

He'd been terrifying then. An unknowable monster that plagued your school life. Now, he was still a monster, but one you were beginning to understand—no matter how much you didn't want to.

You understood that Touya was a result of his toxic family. You understood that Touya would likely never have normal romantic relationships. You understood that you were now parts of both these things. You understood that none of this was your fault and you didn't deserve any of it. And nothing would change in understanding your situation.

You pressed on, breathing hard, and stopped. God you wanted to sit and sleep, but the bass was an ache in your bones that kept biting you awake. You didn't have the energy for this. You checked where you were and nearly sobbed. Big chocolate doors with ornate handles. The study.

You burst through the doors. The smell of weed hit you before anything, making you double over coughing. Enji’s study was exactly how you remembered it, though the potent smell of weed this time was far worse. It was like your body couldn’t handle even the thought of it, your stomach churning, bile lapping at your esophagus. Voices fluttered through the room overlapping and swelling until you could pull out Touya's, talking excitedly. He cut himself and then started again, "There she is." His words were slurred, messy. He’d been drinking.

He whipped around, nearly falling over his legs to get to you. A hiccup raked up his body and he burst into giggles. “She’s here,” he said again, “she came all the way down here to see me. Are you enjoying the party, babe?” Touya wrapped you in a foul smelling hug, burying his face in your hair.

Despite how uncomfortable you were, you couldn’t help noticing how he seemed to be avoiding your bloated stomach. “Turn off the music,” you said, “its giving me a headache.”

“But the party,” Touya whined in your ear.

“You and your friends can smoke and drink, I don’t care, but the music has to stop. Its driving me crazy.”

Whatever happy attitude Touya wore vanished. He dropped his arms from around you leaving you cold. “Its driving you crazy?” He backed you up against the wall, his face inches from yours, a snarl across his mouth. “Do you have any idea how I’ve felt? I’m the one who knocked you up and I barely even see you. We live in the same fucking house! You belong to me and yet you let Fuyu and Natsu suck on your tits like it was their baby inside you.” His blue eyes were fire, boring into you. “The baby isn’t dad’s or my siblings. Its mine,” his fire died out in a moment, head hanging low, the tips of his hair tickling your nose, “even if I didn’t want it.”

Your mouth fell open. This was his scheme, his plan, to knock you up, keep you at his side and he didn’t even want it? “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Tears exploded out of your eyes, your nose swelling. “You took my freedom, my life, and you didn’t even want it?” Your voice broke into a shriek, “You bullied me every fucking day because you have a fucking crush on me and—and—.” You burst into sobs, whatever thoughts you had died on your tongue.

Touya stared at you, his eyebrows narrowed. You thought he was going to yell at you, tell you it was your fault for making him like you in the first place. “You know,” his voice was rough, deep, “I always liked it when you yelled at me.” And then his mouth was on yours, teeth against teeth and tongue sloppily trying to enter your mouth.

You tried to push him off, anger flaring in your chest like a wildfire, but Touya was bigger and stronger. Even drunk and high he was powerful. Another reminder of the night he’d assaulted you. Another reminder that the Todorokis could lord over you however they pleased.

One of his friends started laughing. “I’ve never seen Touya get this worked up,” it sounded like Spinner, “wonder how far he’ll go.”

Touya pulled back, spit connecting your mouths. His chest heaved and so did yours as you both took in oxygen. He turned around, smiled. “You just want to see my dick.”

The others laughed in that way stoners did when they weren’t sure what was happening but they were still enjoying themselves. “C’mon,” Shigaraki laughed, “whip it out, Toga said you got a new piercing.”

“Gotta get hard first,” Touya laughed. He dragged you to the automan and pushed you onto your back, your head just a foot from where the others sat smoking. The smile on his face vanished when your shirt rode up over your swollen stomach, your belly button flat against the stretched out skin. Slowly he put his hand on your stomach, feeling how taut it was and froze when the baby kicked.

He met your eyes. “I—.”

“C’mon Touya,” Toga groaned, her mouth stretched into a hungry smile, “show us how you knocked her up.” They all laughed at that. Of all of them, you would have thought that Toga would be on your side, at least telling them off, but she seemed just as into your torture as the rest of them.

Touya snapped out of whatever thought he was in, smiling that doped out smile again. He wrapped your legs around his waist and bucked into your clothed cunt.

A high pitched shriek left your mouth. It was just humping and yet your body was reacting to it like Touya had just pinched your clit. The fiery rage inside you turned into a different type of heat. “Please,” you grabbed Touya’s shirt, “don’t do this.”

He kissed your cheek. “I’m just giving my friends a show,” he smiled cruelly, “rat.” He bucked again and this time you bit your tongue to keep from crying out. "Ah-ah," Touya whined, "you're not allowed to hold back. We're putting on a show." He dug his tongue into your mouth again, careful to make sure you had nothing to hold back your cries except for him.

He roughly bucked against you again, his flat stomach rubbing over your swollen one. His friends cooed and cawed as he humped you through your clothes, his cock growing stiff and swollen in his pants. Touya grunted into your mouth and then pulled off gasping. "Fuck, I want to be inside." He stepped away, clawing at his pants to free himself.

You tried to get up, run away, but his friends pinned you down, held you for him.

Touya didn’t seem to notice the assist, too distracted trying to unhook one of the piercings from his zipper. When he finally managed to free himself, you saw the prince albert piercing you’d felt the first time and new ones along the bottom. Near the base of his cock was the beginnings of a jacob’s ladder.

He crossed back over to you and yanked off your pants with your panties following close behind. He stared at your exposed entrance, a soft drunk giggle escaping his lips. “I don’t think I got a good enough look at this last time.” He kissed your clit and just as quickly bit into it making you shriek. “God,” he groaned, “you’re pretty.” He aligned himself with your entrance and pushed in.

A hiss left his mouth, his hands gripping the automan tightly. “Fuuuuuuuck, you weren’t this tight last time.”

“Last time,” your voice nearly broke, “I wasn’t heavily pregnant.”

He smirked at you, “That must be the secret to good sex then.” Touya didn't wait for you to adjust, sliding all the way out and back in, his piercings dragging roughly against your walls. A low groan rippled out of his throat. He hunkered down above you, practically tucking himself into you with his head buried in your neck and stomach against yours. He kept up that rough pace as his friends smoked and laughed.

You winched when the baby started kicking again.

Touya froze. He’d felt it, too. He lifted himself up, keeping his cock firmly inside you, and ran his hands over your belly. You couldn’t decipher the look on his face. “Hey, calm down,” he said, “Daddy’s right here, there’s no need to freak out. Don’t be so selfish with Mommy’s cunt.”

He started up his rhythm again, rougher and deeper. You shrieked when he hit your cervix and then did it again, taking your cries as encouragement. “Stop it,” you begged, pulling at his shirt, “don’t do that you’re gonna—.”

“Gonna make you cum,” Touya chuckled as if he’d finished your sentence for you. He lifted your legs over his shoulders, practically shoving your already impregnated form into a mating press. Each thrust had your heavy belly bouncing, your swollen tits leaking, your throat raw from crying. It should have been uncomfortable and terrible but the ugly truth was Touya knew how to fuck you well, from the first time he’d assaulted you to now, he felt good.

He was better than his father.

Touya growled as he started pumping faster, ramming your cervix harder and harder until—

You screamed. This wasn’t you cumming, this was something different, something old and terrible that had your entire body shaking and flexing at once. Hot fluid poured out of you and onto the automan, splashing the front of Touya’s jeans and shirt.

He froze, that careless smile wiped away in less than a second. “What was that?”

“Holy shit,” Shigaraki muttered, “I think you broke her water.” And then he burst into laughter. Everyone was laughing, everyone except you and Touya.

“No,” he whined, “nonononononono. Please don’t, no.” He pulled out of you and tried to cover your entrance but it wasn’t done leaking. “I’m not ready for a baby. I’m not ready to be a father. I don’t want... I didn’t...” He locked eyes with you, fear coloring the blue color of his eyes. Of every expression you’d seen him wear, fear was not one of them: until now. He looked at you like you could do something about it, like you could just hold it in and wait until tomorrow, but the baby was coming and it hurt.

You screamed again and the stoners stopped laughing.

“Bro,” Toga said, “I think she’s actually, like, y’know.”

Touya collapsed on his hands and knees, tears flowing down his face. His chest caved and expanded as he panted. “No,” he kept crying. He crawled across the floor to his phone, quickly opening it and dialing a number. You could barely hear the exchange over your pain, a deep and terrible tearing, but you did hear Touya say, “I didn’t mean to. Dad, please, help me.”

You don’t know how long you laid there curled on your side, sobbing in pain, but the study doors burst open, Enji reeking of cold night air in just a button down and slacks. He looked between you and Touya, sighed, and scooped you off the automan. “We’re going to the hospital, you’re gonna be fine.”

You did not feel like you’d be fine.

Touya had sloppily redressed himself, still crying. He followed Enji out into the car. He climbed into the passenger seat while Enji buckled you up in the back. You grit your teeth to keep from screaming again.

Enji shook the car as he climbed into the driver’s seat and peeled away from the Todoroki mansion. “I warned you,” he growled at his son, “that you needed to be delicate with her and what did you do? You tried to fuck her to impress your friends.”

“I’m sorry,” Touya sobbed.

“You could have given her, or your baby an infection or worse,” he growled, “don’t do it again next time.”

You tried not to think about that last comment.

The hospital was quick and efficient, taking you into the delivery room. Your mind was blank as they talked about contractions and potential complications. And then you were holding someone’s hand and screaming like you’d never screamed before, in more pain than you’d ever experienced in your life, for more hours than you thought possible in a day.

When it was done, a nurse dumped your newborn on your chest, a tiny little lump of flesh so red he matched his hair. His father’s hair. His grandfather’s hair. A baby boy. A nurse said something about a name but all you could do was lay there and watch as the baby opened his cerulean eyes and began to wail.

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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plaidbooks · 3 years

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Liquid Courage

A/N: Okay, so, this Sonny Carisi x reader fic was literally just an excuse to write drunk!Sonny. Idk how it got so long, but here we are. My headcanon is that Sonny is...touch starved is the wrong adjective. Affectionate? Touchy? Something. Hope y'all enjoy!

Tags: SVU talk, alcohol mention

Words: 3270

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @storiesofsvu @lv7867 @cycat4077 @barbasimp @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @reading--mermaid @glimmerglittergirl @alwaysachorusgirl @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

You were standing in the vast hallways of the courthouse, waiting to hear if your testimony helped at all. You were a Medical Examiner for the Manhattan NYPD, meaning you couldn’t tailor your statements like the detectives or victims could; you only spoke about the facts. And the facts were simple; with the injuries the deceased sustained, they died from asphyxiation. Could it have been caused by their husband wrapping a soft material around their throat? Of course. Could it also have been caused by the victim hanging herself in her room? Yes, it could. The same could be said for a thousand other scenarios. The difference was the husband was found to be abusive, and it was highly suspected that he killed her. But that was the detective’s job. Yours was to give them the facts. Did you want the sick fuck behind bars? Of course, but that wasn’t what you were called for—no opinions, just facts.

The SVU squad caught up with you quickly; Olivia, Amanda, Fin, and Sonny. You adverted your eyes when you saw Sonny; you had a crush on him, though you were only friends. At first, you were just the ME, hardly talking to him…or any of the squad, really, outside of work-related things. But he was charming and made it a point to talk to you every time he visited about, well, everything. Soon enough, you knew all about his family, and he knew about yours. He even invited you over for game night with the squad a few times.

“Jury back yet?” you asked as they got closer. You asked Olivia, but your eyes darted to Sonny a few times, your cheeks burning. He, of course, decided to stand right next to you, close enough to touch.

“Not yet; it’s only been a few hours—” Olivia was cut off as her phone pinged. She pulled it out of her pocket, glancing at the screen. “Never mind; jury’s back now.” You followed them to the courtroom, and congratulated them all, including Barba, when the jury came back with a guilty conviction.

“Celebratory drinks?” Amanda asked, grinning. Everyone agreed with that…except for you.

Sonny looked to you expectantly, but you shook your head. “I’d love to, but I’d rather decompress at home,” you replied, smiling sheepishly.

The detectives all nodded in understanding. Sonny patted your arm lightly, muttering a, “you’ll be missed. See ya on Monday,” before following his coworkers. You trailed behind before splitting from the group, heading home while they headed in the direction of Forlini’s.

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

You were at home, reading a book while soft piano music played softly on your speakers. You jumped as your phone rang. Looking at the id, you cocked an eyebrow. Sonny was calling you?

“Hey, Sonny; everything okay?” you asked as you answered.

There was loud music playing and voices before Sonny’s voice overpowered them all. “Heyyyy doll! I hope you’re doing okaaaay.”

Oh god, he was drunk. You let out a little huff of laughter, shaking your head. “I’m doing just fine, Son. How’re you?”

“I-I miss you,” he hiccupped, and your cheeks burned. “I wanted to l-let you know….” He pulled away from the phone for a moment, talking to someone before he was back. “I app-appreciate all you do, and I-I looooove youuuu~.” He dragged out the last two words, saying them in a sing-song voice.

Your heart leapt into your throat. He was obviously drunk; he didn’t mean it like that…or did he? “Do you need me to come pick you up?” you asked, concerned.

Sonny’s words all melded together and you couldn’t understand what he was saying anymore.

“Okay, I’ll be right there. Stay. There,” you ordered, pulling your shoes on. At least he was with his squad. He slurred something else unintelligible before hanging up, and you rolled your eyes, a small grin on your lips.

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

You made it to Forlini’s in record time, glancing around at the patrons, looking for the lanky detective. He wasn’t too hard to find; in the corner of the bar was the whole SVU squad, and Sonny was loud. He was laughing at something, pounding his hand on the table, his head thrown back as he guffawed. Picking out a path towards him, you weaved through the crowded bar feeling completely out-of-place in your sweats and loose shirt.

Once close enough, you reached a hand out, laying your hand on Sonny’s elbow. He jumped, whipping around to look at you and almost falling off his seat in the process. His cheeks were rosy, and he had the widest grin on his face as his watery eyes focused on you.

“You came! Can I b-buy you a drink?” Sonny asked loudly, his voice carrying over the rest of the cacophony in the bar.

You gave him a soft smile. “Actually, I think it’s time to take you home, Son,” you replied. The rest of the squad seemed to be in various states of sober or tipsy, but Sonny was obviously the one that was gone. He didn’t object as you helped him stand, waving a goodbye to the rest of the squad, and pulling him through the bar.

“Guys! The hot ME is taking me home!” Sonny yelled, and you ducked your head, your face on fire. Other drunks in the bar congratulated him, and you as well, as you made your way through the throng. You just wrapped an arm tighter around Sonny’s waist, pulling him towards the exit.

Once outside, Sonny wrapped his arms around your midsection, pulling you close to him. “Have I told you how much I love you?” he asked, resting his head on top of yours.

“You may have mentioned it on the phone,” you commented, trying to drag him towards your car.

Sonny was having trouble walking straight, mostly because he was trying to wrap himself around you. “I mean it, d-doll. You’re so fuckin’ smm-art and pretty and funny and cute and beautiful…” he trailed off, leaning almost completely on you now, his weight crushing you.

“Uh huh,” you replied, smiling despite yourself. You knew he was only saying this because he was drunk; sober-Sonny would never be like this. It left a pang of sadness in your heart, because you really did like him. But come tomorrow, he’d remember none of it, and life would go back to normal.

You made it to your car and deposited him in the passenger seat, buckling him in. Sonny attempted to get out, but the seatbelt held him down. He seemed confused, pulling at the material across his chest as you slid into the driver’s seat. You cracked his window so that he’d get some fresh air and pulled away from the curb. You knew where he lived, so you headed in that direction.

“Love you,” Sonny muttered, his eyes glued to your face. You smiled, ignoring the fluttering those words made burst forth. Only in your wildest dreams did Sonny say those words to you, but he’s said it so much tonight...at least it would fuel some late night fantasies. You jumped as his hand connected gently with your head. You were about to ask what he was doing until you realized; he was petting your hair.

“So soft…” he breathed, his fingers twining through the strands of hair. Your breathing hitched slightly, and you tried to focus on the road.

“Is there a reason you’re petting me?” you asked, chuckling lightly.

“Cause your hair is so soft, so pretty…feels so nice,” Sonny replied. You were thankfully getting close to his place when you noticed him moving; it seemed like he was trying to fight the seatbelt, but couldn’t quite figure it out.

“What are you doing?” you asked, alarmed.

Sonny grunted against the impossible belt holding him down. “Wanna cuddle. Wanna hold you.” He said it almost angrily, but that was directed more at the damned seatbelt holding him from you.

“Sonny, stop struggling; wait until we’re not in the car,” you instructed. He let out a huff of defeat, sinking into the seat grumpily before dissolving into giggles.

You pulled up in front of his apartment complex shortly after. As you got out and came around to his side, you let out a chuckle, watching Sonny fight and lose against the seatbelt. You hurried to open his door, leaning across him, and clicking his seatbelt off.

“Freedom!” Sonny cheered as you helped him out of the car. Though, now free of the car, nothing stopped him from draping his body over yours, leaning over your back.

“Sonny, this isn’t helpful—” you started before he cut you off.

“Mmm cuddles,” he murmured, his voice directly in your ear, slurring even worse than before.

You struggled under his weight as he forced more of himself on you, wrapping his arms completely around your torso and arms, leaning almost completely on top of you, forcing you to bend forwards under his weight. “S-Sonny…I need you to walk with me, man,” you huffed, trying to take the few steps into his building.

“Can we cuddle, though?” Sonny asked, wrapping a leg around your waist.

You had to stop walking, spreading your legs so that he didn’t completely throw you off balance. “Oh my god; yes, we can cuddle. But let’s get inside first.”

Reluctantly, he peeled himself off you…mostly. He kept his arms around you as you tried to hurry to his door, before he changed his mind and rewrapped around you.

“Keys?” you asked as you made it to his apartment.

Sonny seemed barely conscious at this point, leaning fully on you again, but from the side this time. You had to lean partly against the wall to keep from falling. “You’rrrrre prettyyy,” he hummed in your ear.

“Yes, thank you. Where’s your keys?” you repeated. Sonny swayed on his feet, blinking slowly, showing no signs of hearing you. You sighed, reaching into his pockets, searching for any kind of jingling. You found his phone and wallet easily enough before your fingers closed around his keyring.

As you pulled your hand out of his pants pocket, he said in a low voice, “I like when you touch me.”

Heat rushed to your face, and you ignored him, as well as the rush of arousal you felt, and unlocked the door. “Come on,” you grunted, dragging him over the threshold. You half led, half carried Sonny back to his bedroom. Once his bed was in sight, Sonny extracted himself from you, moving to collapse onto the mattress, face-first and laying diagonally across it, legs dangling off the side. Bending down, you were able to get his shoes off quickly before he rolled onto his back.

He reached out for you, muttering, “cuddles” over and over again as you shook your head at him.

“Hold on, Son. Let me go to the bathroom really quick,” you lied. You had no intentions of cuddling with him, nervous about what he may do. Sonny was a good guy, but alcohol was a hell of a drug.

He nodded to you, letting his arms fall to his sides. You quickly leaned over him, loosening his tie and pulling it off. “Be right back,” you said, leaving his room and closing the door behind you.

Searching in his kitchen, you quickly found glasses. You filled one with water before heading back towards his room. You debated finding food for him, but water seemed more important right now. That is, until you opened his bedroom door and found him passed out. Sighing once more, you deposited the glass on his nightstand, then reached into his pockets, pulling out his wallet and phone. His charger was laying on the floor by the nightstand, and you plugged in his phone while he snored loudly. Then, as gently as you could, you lifted his legs and pulled them to the bed, angling him so that his head was on the pillows…more or less.

Shaking your head slightly and fighting a smile, you crept out of his room, letting him sleep it off. You wondered if you should just go home, but you were worried about him; he had gotten pretty drunk. Making your way back to the kitchen, you glanced in his fridge. He kept it well-stocked, and you vaguely remembered him telling you he liked to cook. Nodding to yourself, you went to the couch in the living room, making yourself comfortable, and falling asleep quickly.

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

You awoke early in the morning. The apartment was silent, and you stretched before getting up. After splashing some water in your face while in the bathroom, you made your way to the kitchen. You took out the eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, cheese, and salsa you had found the previous night. You weren’t a whiz in the kitchen, but you could make an omelet easily enough. Searching through cabinets for pans, you also found a cheese grater. You glanced at the potatoes in a basket on the counter, deciding to add some hash browns to the mix. Greasy food was the best for hangovers. Finding the pans, you started grating the potatoes, letting them cook a bit before starting on the meat.

There was a beep behind you, and you jumped before you realized it was the automatic coffeemaker. You searched until you found mugs, then made yourself a cup as you cooked. Once the meat and potatoes were done, you turned everything to low, waiting for Sonny to wake up. Eggs don’t take much to cook, and you could make them as he showered or drank coffee.

As if your thoughts summoned him, you could hear Sonny shuffling about in his room. The door slowly opened, and a very disgruntled-looking Sonny stumbled out of his room. Since waking, he had stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, making your cheeks burn. His eyes were barely open, and his hair hung limply on his face as he rubbed his head.

When he caught you in his kitchen, he froze, eyes going wide. “Wh-what are you doing here?” he muttered. His eyes traveled over the various pans on the stove before coming back to your face. “Wait…please tell me we didn’t….”

“N-no! I just gave you a ride home last night, then slept on your couch to make sure you didn’t die from alcohol poisoning,” you explained. Though, you were slightly disappointed with how upset he seemed about potentially sleeping with you.

Sonny nodded, moving to make himself a cup of coffee. “And the breakfast is just a bonus?”

“I figured you’d need the help. You were pretty…fucked up last night,” you smiled, and he groaned.

“Please tell me I didn’t do anything too embarrassing,” he mumbled as you cracked the eggs into the pan.

You salted and peppered the eggs, then moved to poke at the hash browns, making sure they weren’t sticking to the pan. “I wasn’t there at the bar, so you’d have to ask your squad for that story. But, uh, I did watch you lose a fight to a seatbelt.”

“Fucking fantastic,” he replied, letting out a soft chuckle. He came over to you as you flipped the eggs, watching you work. “That it? Nothing else? Because I did wake up fully clothed, minus shoes and a tie.”

Your cheeks burned and you kept your eyes on the eggs as you put the mushrooms on top. “I’ve learned you really want cuddles when drunk…and that you think my hair is soft.” You didn’t dare look at him as you sprinkled some cheese on the mushrooms, then folded half the eggs on top of it. You plated the omelet, pouring some salsa on top and adding more cheese. “The tie just seemed like a safety precaution.”

You kept your eyes on the food, even as you felt Sonny staring at you. Once you had scooped hash browns, sausage, and bacon onto the plate, you chanced a glance at him, offering him the plate. Sonny’s eyes bored into yours, holding you there for what seemed like forever before he took the plate from you.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

You gave him a small smile. “Anytime,” you breathed back. Sonny moved to a free spot on the counter, taking small bites of food. But his eyes went wide as he tasted it, and he started shoveling food into his mouth. Grinning, you scooped the rest of the food onto another plate before moving to soak the pans.

You ate in silence, pausing only to drink coffee. Having less food, you finished first, then moved to start doing the dishes.

“No, no. You made this amazing food; I’ll do dishes,” Sonny said, swallowing hard.

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Son; I made a mess of your kitchen. I’ll clean it—”

“Like hell you will. First, you made sure I made it home safe. Second, you stayed the night to make sure I didn’t die. And third, you made me the best breakfast I’ve had in a long time—I swear my hangover is gone. You are not doing dishes.”

You smirked. “Okay fine, you win.” Instead, you finished your coffee, rinsing the mug out in the sink. Sonny continued eating, and you felt awkward standing in his kitchen. “So…I guess I’ll see you at work?” you said as a way of goodbye. You grabbed your phone off the counter, slowly making your way to his door.

“Wait!” Sonny called out, following you out of the kitchen. You cocked an eyebrow at him, and he shifted on his feet. “I-I feel like I should give you a better thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

“It’s fine, Sonny, really. That’s what friends are for, right?” you shrugged.

Sonny seemed to fight with himself for a moment before he muttered, barely audible for you to hear, “what if…I don’t want to be just friends?”

“What?” you asked, your heart racing. He wasn’t drunk anymore, and if what he was saying was true….

He came closer to you. “What if I don’t want to be just friends?” he repeated. “It seems like…drunk me was at least trying to flirt with you…. Something sober me is too damn nervous to even attempt.” When you still didn’t respond, he let out a huff. “What I mean is, I-I like you…a lot. And I’d, uh, I’d like to get to know you better?”

“You’re not still drunk, are you?” you asked, half-joking. Sonny shook his head, eyes wide. “Okay, good. Because you kinda did profess your love to me last night…but I was afraid that it was only because you were drunk.”

Sonny ran a hand over his face. “Did I really? I’m…so sorry if I made you uncomfortable—”

“No, it’s fine, really. I, uh…I’ve liked you for a while now. I was just worried that it was your drunk self that liked me, and not, uh, you,” you explained.

Sonny smiled sarcastically. “Drunk me says what sober me is thinking…most of the time.” He rubbed his neck anxiously. “So, uh, can we go on a date? No alcohol, I promise.”

You chuckled. “I’d like that. You obviously have my number—call me?”

“Of course. Let me clean up here—myself as well as the sink—and then I’ll give you a call,” Sonny grinned genuinely this time, and you melted.

“Sounds good. Talk to you soon.” You made your way out of his apartment, giving him a small wave. As he closed the door behind you, you broke out in a wide grin, excited for a date with Detective Carisi.

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #I need to hang out with drunk Sonny

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the-girl-with-the-glass-heart · 3 years

Text

So I’ve decided to talk in depth about my sander sides high school au, specifically the characterization of Remus, Janus and Virgil.

I tried to make a rather grounded and realistic take on things with some conventional teen drama tropes mixed in there along with some serious storylines about family and the issues Remus, Virgil and Janus experience because of it.

I will make a part two to this post if you guys so desire with the other sides and possibly Picani and Remy.

Virgil is the main character of this au, he moved back to his old home town after moving away when he was fairly young to go start a new life with his dad.

Virgil and his dad are all on their own with little money to their names making them live in the poorer area of town, which doesn’t exactly help Virgil with bullies.

Virgil also has some deep underlying issues about his mother since she died in labor and thus never got to meet her, his dad goes to great lengths to teach him about her and how much she unconditionally loved him but it does little to quell Virgil’s complex feelings towards her.

Despite the amount of attention his dad gives him he does feel especially empty and sad about his lack of a mother, it doesn’t exactly help that because of the way Juliet died Virgil feels in some way, partially responsible.

This would later cause him to build up emotional walls to cover up how he really felt about his mom, insisting that he’s okay and doesn’t think about it often.

This also causes him to stress a lot about small situations and in more extreme scenarios full on fits of anxiety due to his underlying fears about losing even more people in his life.

Ultimately this all mixed together with the bullying Virgil received growing up for his lack of a mother made him a very tense and self conscious individual with a deep rooted fear of the unknown and loss.

Virgil still has a support group there for him, like I said, his dad is always there to provide and take care of him no matter what and his friends always make an effort to understand his plights despite not really having the same issues as he does.

Really the only person who comes close to understanding him is Remy, who also is raised by a single parent and understands the hurt that can leave you with.

Remy’s mom and Virgil’s dad are quite close though and since they are neighbors try to take care of each other’s kids the best they can when the other can’t.

Overall Virgil’s life isn’t all that great but it could be a whole lot worse if he didn’t have his friends with him.

Now onto Janus, Janus’s familial troubles culminate into anger and spite, his family was rather normal until he was around five years old and his parents got divorced and it was rather messy.

Janus couldn’t adjust very well to not only his parents being separated but also his dad losing his job and most of his money, making him move across town, next door to Virgil.

He coped with it after a little while but everything seemed to get way worse after one day when he was visiting his mom and her boyfriend, an electrical fire started and Janus got trapped in the bathroom causing him to get very bad burns all up one side of his body, making him lose most of his hair and most importantly of all, push his mother to take extreme lengths to protect him.

She just seemed to become more and more irrational over time and take even more precautions that made little sense to anyone but her.

She even prevented Janus from hanging out with Remus since his behavior kinda scared her which only made Janus want to hang out with him more.

She was already very over protective of him but the fire just made everything worse and eventually Janus developed a habit for lying as a way to hide his more “dangerous” activity from his invasive mother.

Janus was often confused and didn’t know exactly how to feel about his mother, his love for her was both very strong since he admired how much she wanted to protect him but also was full of anger and spite for how controlling she was.

At least his dad and step mom were better, his father though not the most emotionally available still takes care of him and loves him while his step mom is the most wholesome a person could possible be and much better than his step dad (Who’s just a complete idiot).

Janus mostly deals with his problems by venting about them to remus and going through lengths to cover his burns (wearing hats to cover up his bald spot, gloves to hide his hands, jackets to hide his arms, ect.) unfortunately though sometimes this will lead to confrontations with Virgil.

Virgil’s fear of loss and want to keep his loved ones safe will often clash for Janus’s demands for freedom and independence making them sometimes clash until remus tries to calm them down.

As for Remus, unlike his friends he didn’t care much about how his family was, yes they are clearly dysfunctional and Remus fully knows how his families relationship was strained and probably really toxic but he didn’t care.

Even though favoritism was really clear at his house, his parents weren’t home often due to work and his brother seemed to get everything, remus just sorta took it in stride and used it as an excuse to grow more independent and bombastic.

He likes himself, in fact maybe he likes himself a little too much tbh.

He developed a strong sense of self, something that Janus really admired and would often look up to him for.

Eventually his teen years hit and surprise surprise, this independent loud bastard with strong opinions got a really weird sense of style (I mean, who else would draw on a fake mustache and dye their hair grey while wearing chokers and knee length boots?) and a penchant for partying.

Not only would he party (very hard, sometimes at bars with fake IDs) but he also started having small relationships that didn’t last very long (didn’t matter who it was, hell it could of been a guy who was already in a committed relationship, remus didn’t care).

To go along with his bold and odd personality he was often contradictory, putting on a persona of the stupid party guy while also being surprisingly intelligent, to the point that he even rivaled Logan (some one had to be the smart twin).

He has a great relationship with his brother, they actually get along very well, they just don’t speak much during school hours.

Remus has a very can do attitude and is completely determined to be his own person and nobody is gonna fell him other wise.

So yeah... if you read this far thank you, I appreciate it.

#sander sides fandom #sander sides au #sanderssides #sandersides #Remus sanders #Virgil sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #remus duke sanders #sander sides deceit #deceit sander sides #remus sander sides #sander sides remus #janus sander sides #sander sides janus #sander sides virgil #virgil sander sides

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getitinbusan · 4 years

Text

Jinnuendo

Jinnuendo Submitted by @befriendswithj is the first fic for our Campfire writing game. Jungkook, Jimin And Yoongi coming soon. Taehyung, Namjoon and J Hope are still open!

Camping with your friends was supposed to be fun- you could only agree, now that Jin had made camping even funner.

Jin x Reader

8806 Words

Genre: Fluff, Friends to lovers, Smut, Crack,

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, dirty talk, fingering, outdoor sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it, kids), Jimin’s cakes, The title… Well, there’s no excuse for that, sorry

I think that’s it?

_______________

“Yikes, I wouldn’t wanna be her right now”

Said the bus boy standing next to you, crossing his arms as he watched the restaurant manager approach the newest addition to the waiter team, who was currently involved in a rather heated discussion with a guest,

“It’s a shame she’s gonna have to leave, she was nice…”

You added and both of you sighed heavily and returned to your duties while the poor girl was being fired for standing her ground. She was the third one this month alone. To be fair, your manager was not an easy man to please, so it only made sense that new additions to the tea would be examined even more closely than you and the others, who had worked here for longer. The only thing keeping you safe from the manager’s wrath was your natural ability to fake-smile for hours on end. It was a gift as much as it was a curse but it had secured your job in the customer service sector so far.

And soon you will have survived another painful day of serving bitchy, rude and entitled Karen’s and Chad’s for the sake of financing your studies. At least they tipped well if you smiled hard enough.

This was your last day of work before you could look forward to two weeks of uninterrupted relaxation time. You handed in your last paper for this semester last week, so all of the work for university was also

done and nothing would interfere with your plans to sleep for three days straight and then spend the rest of the time at the beach, cooking in the sun.

“See you guys in a few weeks”

You yelled into the kitchen after you gathered your things and clocked out for the night. A few hurried goodbyes reached your ears before you exited through the back door of the restaurant and finally breathed in the fresh air, smelling of freedom and definitely not the burger grease stench coming from the kitchen AC vent.

No, it was definitely freedom and it was glorious.

_________

After a hot shower and big glass of wine you were slumped on your couch, ready to pass out any second now, when your phone went off and almost gave you a heart-attack.

You took a deep breath and checked the caller ID to see your friend Seokjin calling,

“What is it?”

Normally, Jin calling was a thing you were happy about, however, being interrupted while passing out after a 10-hour shift at your job, was not a happy occasion and you couldn’t mask the annoyance in your voice,

“Whoa, what’s got your panties in a twist? Did that guy at work steal your tips again?”

He asked and you breathed a heavy sigh,

“No, I think he learnt his lesson after I cut out the butt on all his work pants…

You answered, slowly sitting up and reaching for your wine glass to empty it with a last few sips before continuing the conversation

“Why are you calling so late? I was about to fall asleep…”,

“I just wanted to remind you to pack if you haven’t done it already. Which you probably haven’t. Case in point”

Pack? You creased your brows. Pack for what?

“YN? You still there?”,

“Uhh, yeah I am I just… can you remind me what I’m supposed to be packing for?”

If you weren’t so tired, you’d probably be a little more embarrassed,

“Seriously? It’s that time of the year, YN! It’s blackout week! Joon send everyone reminders months ago! And then weeks ago! And then again 2 days ago! How could you forget the most magical event of the year?”

You needed to hold the phone at a slight distance as to not go deaf at the sound of Seokjin’s friendly reminder. He was right, though, how could you forget? Blackout Week was the one week that you and your group of friends all looked forward to collectively every year. A whole week of camping in the mountains near a beautiful lake and no one was allowed to bring any kind of electronic devices, unless it was absolutely necessary for survival. A flashlight would be an exception but other than that you guys were pretty adapt at reverting your way of life back to the good old dark ages.

You were lucky that Jungkook and Hoseok had been part of a group of boy scouts or else blackout week would have ended in a disaster each time. Yeah well, maybe you had exaggerated when you said that all of you were pretty adapt at this stuff… But nevertheless, you were all very determined, which was just as important,

“Shit, you’re right, I completely forgot…”

You ran your hand across your face and sighed,

“Of course, you forgot, why am I even surprised…”

Jin sounded more upset that he actually was, you knew him by now. You just needed to work him a little bit,

“How early are we leaving tomorrow? Can I do it in the morning? I’m so tired…”

You probably sounded a little whiney but that usually did the trick with Jin,

“I told you to be ready at 5, you know how long the drive is. Ah YN, I still can’t believe it, you’re so careless sometimes…”

He already sounded a little softer,

“I’m sorry, I’ll start packing right now, ok?”,

You made sure to sound like the helpless damsel in distress you wanted Jin to believe you were and you were sure you had cracked him. You heard him sigh heavily on the other end of the line,

“Do you need help packing? I’ll come over and help you, it’ll be quicker and you can get more sleep”,

“Are you sure? It’s late already…”,

“Just stay awake for the next fifteen minutes and open the door when I knock, ok? I’ll be right there”,

“Ok…”

He hung up and you smiled to yourself. There were a few advantages to knowing how Jin’s mind worked. And knowing Jin, he would never not come and help you out and you were grateful to have such a selfless friend. He knew you were an absolute mess and he didn’t mind picking up your slack once in a while because you took care of him in turn. It wasn’t like you turned up whenever he called, like he usually did for you but you were the type of friend to think of things he forgot to do for himself. You had been friends for so long, that he had given you a key to his apartment a while back and you used it to make sure his fridge was always stocked, and his plants were taken care of. He worked a lot. Way more than you and the little things like self-care and chores sometimes got put on the back burner. Since you had a little more time on your hands you would take care of these things once in a while.

Before you got up off the couch to put on some comfy pants, you stretched your tired limbs and pressed play again to let Netflix run in the background.

Jin knocked right as you finished pouring two mugs of coffee, which both of you would probably need to undertake the monumental task of packing your camping bag. You opened the door and let him inside, handing him the mug right away and watching a smile creep onto his face,

“Coffee was a good idea”

He said and slurped loudly after he closed the door,

“Thought it would make me feel less dead. I have yet to see that theory proven”

You sipped on your coffee, too,

“Thank you for helping me, though, I completely forgot about the trip”

Jin waved you off,

“At this point I’d be surprised if you actually had remembered it. I know I’m usually the busy one but this semester you’ve had so much stuff to do, that I can’t even be mad you forgot everything not related to uni”

You smiled at him. Even though Jin loved to get his Dad mode on and get all red-faced and out of breath from all the scolding, he was a softie at heart and everyone knew, no matter how hard he puffed up his chest, he never really meant any harm. He was all bark and no bite and none of your friends took anything he said seriously,

“Let’s get started then”

He said and put down the mug in your sink before waltzing off towards your bedroom and digging around in your closet until he emerged with your suitcase. You watched him zoom around the place for a second until you joined him, sitting down on the bedroom floor and grabbing some clothes to roll up and place in the case,

“You want some snacks?”

You asked Jin in case he wanted some food in addition to the great entertainment you provided with Netflix in the background, your loud combined breathing and the rustling of useless stuff around you as you moved it around to find viable things to pack,

“I’m good, thanks, though”

He said and dived head first into a pile of clothes to look for your warmer sweatshirts. The end of summer was in sight and you would be staying pretty high up the mountains, so better be prepared,

“Although… do you still have some of those mini pretzels?”,

“Yeah, sure”

You got up and got him the bag of his beloved snack and then it was time to get some real work done.

_________

“Thank GOD we finally made it!”

Jin jumped out of the car and went to kneel down to kiss the ground but you stopped him before things could get ugly. What a baby, you thought to yourself… so what if you sang along to Cotton Eyed Joe for three hours straight? It’s a timeless masterpiece,

“So what if I sang along to Cotton Eyed Joe for three hours straight, it’s a timeless masterpiece!”

You argued and Jin’s eyes almost bulged out of his head,

“A timeless- can you even comprehend the unspeakable agony I was in? It felt like my soul left my mortal body and only the haunting of Cotton Eyed Joe remained…”

He could be such a drama queen sometimes. You rolled your eyes and sighed; deciding to be the bigger person really should be considered a virtue,

“Anyway, we made it here on time, didn’t we? You sure know how to burn some rubber when you don’t like the music I play…”

Jin pulled himself off the ground, holding onto the car door. His joints weakly cracked while he got up,

“I aged like 30 years during this trip and it’s only just starting…”

He mumbled to himself, shaking his head and making his neck crack in addition to everything else,

“What was that?”

You asked and Jin quickly went to unload the trunk,

“Nothing, nothing”

He answered, avoiding an even longer discussion about Cotton Eyed Joe.

You quickly joined him and had your bags unloaded in no time.

It seemed like you were the first ones to arrive at the camping site and when you informed Jin of that, his mood immediately shifted,

“We get to choose our spot?”

He looked at you in disbelief,

“Seems like it…”,

“Finally, we don’t have to sleep next to the dumpster!”

You never got to choose your spot because you had never been the first ones to arrive,

“Jin, there isn’t even a dumpster here, were in the middle of literal nowhere, nothing but lake, mountains and forest for miles”,

“True but somehow, the garbage always ended up being next to our tent because it was the only space left”

Ok, well, you guessed that was kinda true. You didn’t mind it though, you were a heavy sleeper,

“Ok, so let’s pick a good spot this time, hm?”

You said, clapped your hands together and looked around to assess the available spots,

“How about over there?”

You pointed to the edge of the clearing, where the trees began to grow thicker and taller. Jin squinted and pursed his lips,

“Hmmmm….”

He hummed and you guessed you wouldn’t be setting up there,

“What do you think about setting up here?”

You walked into the middle of the clearing, near the stump where the campfire would be set up later and Jin immediately pursed his lips even harder and hummed louder and you quickly suggested more,

“Ok, so near the lake then? Work with me here, Jin”

You walked down to the soft grass near the shore and presented it as appealingly as possible and Jin lips formed a smile. He nodded, finally. He walked towards you with the rolled-up tent under his arm and you planted it firmly in the ground. Not a second to soon, too because right after you set it down, another car approached and parked right beside Jin’s,

“Ah, the cavalry arrives”

You commented and just as you and Jin had planted the last fixture and the tent was stable, the car doors opened and the three Musketeers exited the vehicle in style.

Yoongi, sporting his usual urban-grandpa-couture, adjusted his tinted glasses and ran a hand through the hair that stuck out from his

headband, before he casually nodded at you and Jin in greeting. Hoseok and his brother Taehyung waved at you enthusiastically in their brightly coloured jackets and each held up a bag filled with goodies that looked extremely promising,

“Woooow! You’re here early!”

Hoseok could barely believe it,

“And you even grabbed the best spot, well done guys!”

He congratulated you, genuinely surprised that you made it here before anyone else for the first time,

“be honest, did you ever expect this to happen?”

You asked him as he came over to hug you and Jin simultaneously,

“Not in a million years”,

“But we’ve been rooting for you guys ever since we started this tradition”

Tae said as he leisurely strolled over and hugged you tightly,

“Thanks, it only took us almost 10 years to get here, so we’re gonna make sure to rub it in your faces whenever possible”

Jin piped up and you chuckled to yourself,

“If you got here so early you could have prepared the fire already instead of being lazy”

Yoongi grumbled and trudged over, as well,

“Missed you too, boo bear”

You cooed at him and went to pinch his cheeks,

“Goochie goo, look at you, you put on weight”

You loved treating him like a baby. He also loved it when you did it but he would sooner die than ever admit to that,

“Ugh, don’t touch me”

He weakly tried to wiggle out of your grip on his pinchable cheeks and after they presented all the goodies, they brought with them, you helped the guys set up their tent. Then you actually did prepare the fire.

The last of your friends to arrive were Namjoon, his baby cousin Jungkook and Jimin. Even more pinchable cheeks for you to victimize, you thought, rubbing your hands together evilly.

When they arrived, the rest of you were sitting around the fire and you only noticed their arrival when you heard their voices approach through the trees. Apparently, they had chosen to hike here,

“I’m never listening to you again… hiking here, I can’t believe I thought this was a good idea”

Joon said, sounding somewhat out of breath as he and Jungkook stepped into the clearing. He dropped his bags and drew in a long breath,

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad! And it’s not like you couldn’t use a little more exercise…”

Jungkook said, mumbling the last part of the sentence,

“What was that?”,

“Nothing, nothing…”

Jungkook picked up Joon’s bags in addition to his and marched on towards you guys, sitting by the fire. Jimin stepped out of the woods last and looked just as ethereal as everyone remembered. As he ran a hand through his hair, the sun immediately took a step back to let him take the place in the spotlight.

A collective sigh ran through your group and a couple of awkward glances and coughs were exchanged before you all got your bearings back. He smiled when he saw you and gave a little wave that made you giggle like a little girl when you waved back. Jin could only shake his head in disbelief. Sure, Jimin was hot. Even he could admit to that; but surely you thought Jin was handsome, too, right?

“Sorry we’re late, guys!”

Jungkook said as he reached you and set the bags down,

“Don’t worry about it”

Hoseok got up first and hugged the younger boy tightly before the rest of you got up and said hi. Joon and Jimin walked over, too and the hugging continued for a little longer than usual hugging because everyone took a little more time to get an extended hug with Jimin. It was honestly ridiculous how thirsty all of you were for him. And the poor guy had no idea.

______

After all the tents had been set up, everything was prepared and all of you had settled back around the fire, you watched Yoongi and Jimin prepare dinner, while Hoseok and Taehyung played UNO and Jungkook was scribbling something in a notebook. Jin was sitting next to you and reading through the gas grill’s user manual, Jimin and Yoongi were currently trying t get to work,

“Are you sure, you’re not holding it upside down?”

You asked him and reached out to grab it from him but he held it out of your reach and sighed,

“YN, I know how to read a damn…- hold on, it’s actually upside down”,

“Wait, really?

You were only joking about the upside-down thing,

“NO, of course not! How incapable do you think I am?”

Jin slapped your shoulder with the papers and you laughed as you tried to lean away far enough,

“Very, and I’m not even sorry for it”

you said and Jin’s mouth dropped open and he coughed out a laugh,

“With a friend like you, I really don’t need any enemies”

He said and you leaned back in to look up at him and channel your cutest pout,

“This is why you love me, though”

You were right, he thought, no one could make him feel so dumb, yet so happy at the same time. Especially with an annoyingly cute pouty face like yours,

“You’re lucky, that’s true”

He continued flipping through the manual and soon, the grill was working and he saved Yoongi and Jimin from their misery. Just in time, too because Tae was getting hungry and no one wanted to deal with that.

_______

“Aw man, that was so good!”

Jungkook said, stuffing the last food from his bowl into his mouth, chewing loudly,

“You want the rest of mine?”

You asked him, holding your bowl in his direction and he nodded eagerly, big eyes getting even bigger,

“There you go, big boy”

You smiled to yourself and handed him your bowl,

“God, where is all that food even going?”

Yoongi said, as he watched Jungkook devour the additional food he had just received,

“Shhh, let him eat”

You shushed Yoongi with a pat to his leg and watched Jungkook munch happily,

“Anyone want some rice cakes?”

Jimin piped up and opened up a Tupperware filled with the juicy looking sweet treats,

“Oooooh, Jimin, they look amazing!”

You couldn’t believe your eyes; they were your favourite,

“I knew you’d like them”

Jimin said as he watched your eyes and smile grow bigger,

“Have some”

He added and held the box your way,

“Oh yes! Thank you”

You got up and tiptoed around the fire to kneel in front of him to munch on his cakes.

You looked at him with glossy eyes, happy that he remembered your favourite treat. And they were good, too. So good, that you had to close your eyes as you had the first bite,

“Ohmygod”

You mumbled with a full mouth,

“Amazing”

You said and Jimin smiled proudly. Jin watched the interaction quietly from his seat.

Damn, he thought, he should have remembered to bring some rice cakes for you. He wasn’t really jealous of Jimin and his cakes. Really, he wasn’t. He was convinced that little crush of yours was completely food related, so he didn’t really think there was anything more to it. All he wanted was for that interaction to have taken place with him and also, for you to give all your attention to him and not Jimin. That seems like a reasonable mindset, right? So, in conclusion, he wasn’t jealous, at all.

However, when Jimin took a second rice cake out of the box and held it to your lips, time seemed to slow down for Jin and not in the good, romantic way he would have preferred it. Jimin gently placed the cake in your mouth and your lips closed around his finger for a second before he slowly pulled away. You moaned in pleasure as you started chewing and Jin had to bite down on his tongue to not lose his mind. To the others this was a completely normal and innocent thing to witness; just two friends sharing some food, what’s wrong with that? Everything, according to the way Jin was currently staring Jimin down and tried to telepathically communicate his disdain for the way he fed you food in the most erotic way possible. Ok, maybe he was a little jealous, after all.

Why was this suddenly getting to him? He knows that the relationship you have with him isn’t purely based on friendship, since the both of you had had some ambiguous moments of will they, won’t they before but it was never really anything you acted upon or even talked about. Nothing to take seriously.

Maybe, by watching you and Jimin flirt so innocently, he had just realized now, how precious you really were to him and that he wanted to try and incorporate a romantic aspect into your relationship.

Or maybe, he just never felt threatened before. Never felt like his place in your life was about to be taken away from him by a guy with sweet, juicy and delicious cakes.

Damn Jimin’s cakes! Jin got up and started collecting everyone’s dishes. He didn’t want to continue watching you basically crawling in Jimin’s lap and sucking the cakes off his fingers.

Maybe he went a little too hard with the whole dish collecting thing because as he ripped Jungkook’s bowl from his hands, the younger hadn’t completely finished I and yelled after Jin, as he went down to the lake and started vigorously scrubbing everything.

However, Jin didn’t know that he had absolutely nothing to be jealous of because as soon as he had left the circle, Tae, who was sat next to Jimin, made him feed him cakes, as well.

Let’s just say that even someone as oblivious as you knew when some actual sexual tension was developing. You decided it was time to awkwardly retreat to your seat now, before you were sandwiched in between the two boys. Only now did you notice that Jin had left the comfort of his camping chair,

“Hey, were did he go?”

You asked Joon, who was wrapped in a thick jacket with his hands around a warm cup of tea. While someone outside of your circle might be a little confused at the sight of someone with such a warm jacket on in this warm weather, you had stopped wondering about his weird habits a while ago. He slurped his tea and pointed down to the shore where, if you squinted heavily, you could faintly recognise the outline of Jin’s body in the dark. You excused yourself from the others and walked the short distance to join Jin in washing the dishes. He was slumped over, kneeling at the shore and, apparently, hadn’t noticed you approaching. So you yelled and gripped his shoulders from behind:

“Careful!”

The high-pitched scream he let out almost burst your eardrums but it was definitely worth it to see him almost jump into the water in shock,

“What the hell, YN? Why would you do that?”

He was clearly very upset about the whole thing but you only snickered like a mean little kid and kneeled down next to him,

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist”

You said and took the knife he was scrubbing out of his hands. Safer this way. Even in the dark you could see his eyes, big as saucers and it only made you laugh more. You took his hand in yours in apology and Jin didn’t resist, he just yelled louder like he usually did,

“You’re such a brat! I volunteer to do the dishes and what do you do? Wow, the disrespect is off the charts!”

His yelling was like an affectionate pat on the back by now because you knew he would never actually yell at you in anger. He knew you loved it because you always laughed even harder when he started ranting. And when you squeezed his hand a little tighter, he was sure there was nothing he enjoyed more than making you laugh by making an ass of himself,

“I’ll stop, I promise!”

You bowed your head and clutched his hand to your chest, still smiling,

“Tsk, empty promises”

He shook his head and you looked up at him,

“I’ll make it up to you, I’ll help you with the dishes”

You said eagerly,

“And also, I snagged one of the rice cakes for you”

Jin listened up,

“I know you love these things even more than I do”

He heard some shuffling and then you held your hand up in front of his face, a tiny cake sitting in your palm,

“Open up”

You said, taking the cake between two fingers and holding it up for Jin,

“For me?”

He asked, just to make sure he wasn’t imagining this,

“Of course, for you, you genius”

Jin slowly opened his mouth and you gently placed the treat in it, like Jimin did with you. However, Jin didn’t think of Jimin in this moment, he only thought about the way your thumb lingered on his lower lip for a few seconds before you pulled your hand back. He felt his affection for you stir in his heart again.

He also felt something else stir in a different bodily region at the feeling of your fingers on his lips.

He quickly turned away and swallowed the sweet cake before clearing his throat,

“Thanks”

He managed to mumble and went right back to washing dishing and willing away the growing problem you were responsible for,

“Move over, I’ll help”

You said and crowded his space again to help him with the dishes and then a comfortable silence set in, only interrupted by the occasional loud laughter from the rest of the guys.

_________

The last night approached quicker than all of you would have liked. After all of the days spent on the lakeshore, basking in the sun and eating smores at night around the campfire, it was finally time to return to your normal life. You and Jin had gotten used to the tent situation quickly, even though it wasn’t the most comfortable or convenient.

Well, for Jin at least. After the you had gone to sleep on the first night, Jin lay awake for a while longer, not being able to get your small fingers and your gentle touch out of his mind and it didn’t help that you were right here next to him, bodies only separated by a thin sheet you used as blanket.

And it had only gotten worse.

Tonight, the silhouette of your body, illuminated by the dying light of the fire outside, made Jin especially weak. He, like you and the others, had a few drinks to celebrate your trip and commemorate your friendship and, surprisingly, alcohol didn’t do a lot to enhance his self -control. More like the opposite,

“You good? Are you comfortable?”,

“Yeah”,

“Ok”

You and Jin had finally arranged yourselves into the bed rolls and were about to go to sleep. You were turned away from him with not a lot of distance between your bodies. It had been an especially hot day and even though it was already dark, the air and the ground hadn’t begun to cool down, yet. Jin was uncomfortable in the heat and he had already stripped down to his briefs; just being in the tent, next to you, not even a sheet over your bodies, to avoid even more heat, he felt like his body was heating up even more. He heard you shuffle around a little and then your thin top was flying over his face and you wore nothing but your underwear,

“I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable but I feel like I’m melting”

You said and fanned your face to feel even the slightest relief from the heat. Jin didn’t say anything for a few seconds, too caught up in the realisation that you were in nothing but your underwear, right next to him,

“It’s fine”

His voice betrayed him, sounding breathy and thin. He cleared his throat,

“Don’t worry about it”

There, he sounded super manly again,

“I’m dying over here… it was nice when we were in the water but now? I’m not made for this weather”

You lamented and turned to Jin, tucking your hands under your head to be comfortable. He was glad that it was so dark because if there were even a little bit more light coming in from the outside you would have seen him staring shamelessly at your tits, pushed together between your arms,

“Yeah it’s uh… really bad”

Very smooth, Jin, managing to answer even though his briefs were getting uncomfortably tight, he thought to himself. The fire outside finally went out completely and the clinking of glasses and the sound of another tent zipper let you know that the last of your friends were about to hit the hay, as well,

“Do you mind if I open the zipper? Let some more air in?”

You asked and sat up already,

“No, go ahead, can’t be worse than this, anyway”

You felt around for the zipper and dragged it down until the flaps of the tent opened and a slight breeze greeted you from outside,

“Well, it’s not much but I can breathe a little better”,

You fell back into the bed roll with a sigh and Jin suddenly had an idea,

“Hey, YN”,

“Hm?”,

“How about we just go down to the lake? Put our feet in the water, cool down a little, you know?”,

“Mhmh, I guess”,

“It’s probably more effective than just opening the zipper”,

“Yeah, you’re right”

You sighed again and sat up in the tent,

“Ok then, let’s go. We gotta be quiet though, I think everyone’s sleeping already”

You said and Jin sat up, too, to crawl out of the tent and help you stand up after you crawled out, too. He grabbed your hand and slowly you navigated the dark clearing in the full moon light down to the soft grass around the lake shore until you felt the water gently lap on your feet.

Both of you sat down on the grass and let the waves envelope your feet on their way up,

“Ugh, I already feel so much better”

You relaxed and lay back on the grass, stretching your overheated and tired limbs,

“Same”

Jin stretched his legs, tapping and tickling your smaller feet with his and making you giggle,

“Jin, that tickles”

You tried to wiggle away, and escape his big gorilla feet,

“Is this an unexplored fetish of yours?”

you asked, making Jin laugh and trying to not be too loud,

“The tickling or the feet?”,

“Oh my god is it both?”,

“Are you kink-shaming me?”

“Definitely! Feet are gross”

You smiled and pushed yourself off the grass back into a sitting position,

“I don’t have a weird kink, calm down”

Jin loved riling you up, just as much as you did it to him,

“Anyway, I’m gonna go in, I think.”

He announced after he was done teasing you and slowly waded into the shallow water,

“you coming?”

You looked up at him, shaking your head,

“I don’t think so, I don’t have my bathing suit. Don’t wanna sleep in wet undies”

“Suit yourself. But don’t complain about the heat”

He simply said and turned around, walking until water reached up to his ribs.

It probably wouldn’t be so bad to get your underwear wet; in this heat they would be dry in no time anyway. But another thought crossed your mind and you contemplated just going commando. Even though yours and Jin’s relationship had never been anything more that friendly, except for a little flirting here and there, you felt like it could be more. There could be more to the flirting and the innocent hand touching. And times like these made you want to just cross the line. Despite Jin thinking he was pretty subtle about everything, you had noticed how, during the trip, he eyed you and Jimin curiously whenever you were talking. You had also noticed how he tried to put as much distance between you as possible in the tent as to not push his very obvious hard on anywhere near you. By now you just wanted to see if he would cross the line first.

Watching him, you unclipped your bra and slipped your panties down your legs, before you also let the cool waves roll against your body. He had already made his way a little farther out and you stopped where your feet could still feel the ground and the water just reached around your clavicle,

“Guess the heat finally got to you, hm?”

Jin said, as he noticed you approaching,

“Right, the heat”

You mumbled and he swam closer, back to your,

“Not worried about the clothes anymore?”

You shook your head and smiled,

“What clothes?”,

“Your under- Oh”

Jin stopped in the middle of the sentence after he had realised what you meant. His mouth fell open as his eyes took in the naked line of your shoulders, no straps in sight,

“I didn’t wanna get them wet”

You said and Jin has to swallow hard. You’re naked under the blurry sheen of the water and he doesn’t know how to handle the situation,

“Yeah, no, I get it, convenience and all that, right?”

He laughs awkwardly and tries and fails to cover up his sudden insecurity about your naked boobs just a few inches away from his face,

“Yeah, I just thought I’d let the girls breathe, you know?”

You looked down and Jin could see your hands covering your boobs right under the surface,

“Yeah, yeah, no big deal, just let the… the girls out”

He took a deep breath and tried to look anywhere but your hands encasing your tits. The trees were pretty in the dark, so out there. And their crowns looked so big and full and round in the moonlight. They were probably very soft if he were to submerge his face between them.

Yeah, trees really were something; He had always been a tree guy.

And he probably should take a step back so he wouldn’t accidentally poke you in the stomach,

“Are you ok? Am I making you uncomfortable?”

You asked, your voice sounding all soft an innocent,

“Do you want me to put it all back on?”

Jin whipped his head around at that and held his hands up,

“No! No, I mean…”

More awkward coughing,

“Don’t bother, you’re comfortable. I’m completely fine”

You giggled cutely and Jin felt his self-control pack its bags and jump out of the window,

“Are you sure? You seem kinda bothered…”

You took a step forward and Jin escaped immediately,

“I think I’m gonna go back out, it’s freezing in here, don’t you think?”

He stuttered and rushed through the water so fast that I splashed you in the face. You smiled to yourself, fully aware that Jin was definitely not unbothered by your boobs. A fact, that you would use to your advantage.

And Entertainment.

You also swam back to the shore, where Jin was already standing on the grass again, his back turned to the water. When the water wasn’t high enough to cover up your nakedness anymore you wanted to get Jin’s attention again. You slowly exited the water and walked towards Jin, who was currently picking up your underwear carefully. You noticed him stalling a moment and feeling the soft fabric of your panties between his fingers before he spoke up,

“YN, I’ll leave your stuff closer to the water, ok?”

He said, thinking you were still swimming around without a care in the world,

“No need”

You said from behind him and he jumped, dropping your things, then tripped and landed on his ass, as he tried to put some more distance between you again,

“Ah… you scared me again”

He said, sitting on the floor and covering his eyes with his fingers immediately. He was only able to see your face through the gaps between his fingers. You didn’t say anything; you just stood there for a few seconds, making Jin suffer even more,

“I uh, do you wanna go back by any chance? I’m kinda tired”

He tried to find an excuse to flee again but you weren’t having it. You knelt down and placed your self firmly in his lap, straddling him,

“I don’t wanna go back, yet”

You mumbled and gently wrapped your small fingers around the wrist of Jin’s hand, trying to get him to uncover his eyes and look at you. He resisted. Not at all cost but it was enough to give you pause and make you doubt your intentions,

“Jin, it’s ok, you can look”

You tried to soothe him a little but he didn’t relent,

“YN, please, I’m trying so hard”

He whispered, hoping you would get the message.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to look, he definitely wanted to. He was sure, the hard dick poking you in the thighs told you so very clearly. It was just that he wasn’t sure what would happen, if he gave in. Your friendship was something he treasured and was thankful for every day, no matter how annoying you could be at times,

“Would it be so bad? We’ve been friends for so long, have you never thought about it?”

Your soft voice slowly but surely worked on dismantling his determination,

“Of course, I thought about it. Multiple times, actually. Especially this week”

Jin answered and he felt you shift slightly above him,

“So, if you thought about it, does that mean… you don’t want to?”

He thought he heard something like disappointment in your voice and he was never good at ignoring when you felt down,

“Are you kidding? You think I’d be this hard if I didn’t want to?”

He tried to lighten the mood and let his free hand move up and down your thigh,

“I’ve been wanting to do this for ever, YN, I just don’t know if this is a good idea”,

“Jin, please…”

He swallowed as he felt you move again, this time you were pushing down on him, grinding against him and he had a hard time to keep his eyes covered,

“Shit”

He cursed at the feeling of you grinding on him and you moved his hand higher from your thigh while you tried again to remove his hand from his face. He slowly let you but he kept his eyes closed,

“Jin, look at me”

You now held both of his hands in yours and you slowly moved the up your body until they cupped your breasts. You sighed and squeezed Jin’s hands around them making him moan and his head fell forward, against your shoulder,

“YN, fuck, you need to stop… I’m a weak man and your tits feel amazing”

He started squeezing on his own and slowly rubbed his thumbs on your nipples,

“Touch me, baby, please”

Your pleas were making him so weak and he knew there was no way he would stop now, that he felt your soft skin under his hands. He turned his head just a little, placing his lips against your neck and kissing you gently. He listened to your moans and let you move against him, rub yourself against his dick in his briefs and it made him so hard; shit, you just felt so good against him, warm and soft and your tits were so fucking nice he couldn’t form a coherent thought anymore. He wanted more, needed more, needed to touch more and taste more of you, so he quickly spun you around and pushed your body back into the soft grass and hovered above you,

“Kiss me”

You whine and he wants nothing more than to kiss every inch of your skin. Starting with your pretty lips; you pretty lips which were always pouting smiling, making him crazy and making him wish he knew what the felt like around his dick. He leans down and they’re so soft. So damn soft like your beautiful tits, which he went right back to squeezing and massaging, making you moan into his mouth. Then it’s wet; tongues finding each other, wet bodies grinding together and your wet pussy rubbing against him. God, you’re so wet. He even feels it through his boxer briefs. He never thought he’d be able to get you this wet. When you lift your legs and wrap them around his hips, he can’t hold back any longer,

“Shit, you feel so good, YN, so fucking soft”

He starts kissing your neck again, moving along the smooth skin down to your collarbone and then further down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. You moaned and ran your hands through his hair, tugging slightly and running your nails along his scalp,

“Feel good, baby?”

He asked, voice rough as he switched sides,

“So good…”

You managed to answer through your bliss-clouded mind,

“Want more”

You added and weakly grabbed one of Jin’s hands to move it lower, between your legs,

“More? Want me here? Want me to touch your pussy?”

You never would have guessed Jin would be so vocal during sex, you always thought he’d be the sweet and vanilla type of guy but you weren’t about to complain when his fingers felt so good rubbing your lower lips,

“Yes, touch me, please, want you so much”

you pulled his face back down to yours to kiss him as he let his fingers slide through your wetness and moaned into the kiss at how fucking good it felt,

“Shit, you’re so wet… so fucking warm, fuck”

He started rubbing your clit lightly and you broke the kiss to bury your face in his neck and muffle your moans,

“Ah, Jin…”,

“Like this?”,

“Fuck, yes”

He made you feel so good, you wanted to do the same. You worked your hand between your bodies, too and started rubbing Jin through the fabric of his briefs. The feeling of his hard dick in your hands made you want more and you slipped your hand inside, wrapping it around him for real and gently moving it until you felt his fingers lose their rhythm on your clit and all you could hear were the pleasured moans he failed to hold in,

“Am I doing it right?”

You knew you were doing it right but you also knew Jin loved it when you acted helpless and cute. Could only apply even more in this situation,

“Yeah, you are… So right, so good, shit”

He sucked on the skin of your neck and slid his finger from your clit down and slowly, gently slipped it inside of you, moaning at the warm wet feeling that greeted him. You couldn’t find any words that would accurately express your thoughts at this moment; you could just tighten your legs around him and try not to be so loud you’d wake the others,

“You like that, hm? Feel so tight, baby, can’t wait to fuck you”

Jin moaned in your ear and you felt a heatwave run through your body,

“Jin, fuck me, plea- Ah…”

right as you begged him, he slid in a second finger,

“That what you want? Want me to fuck you?”

He pushed his fingers in deeper and you tried to not lose the rhythm you had going on with your hand around his dick,

“Mhmmh”

You couldn’t form a decent answer at this point,

“You sure, baby? I could make you come like this and then fuck you; make you come again”

He kissed you slow and deep this time, moving his fingers in tandem with his tongue. You shook your head, tightening your legs again, pushing his fingers even deeper,

“No? You want it now? Want me to fuck that tight little pussy?”

Jesus, you thought, you never knew words could turn you on so much,

“Then you’ll get it, baby”

He pulled his fingers out slowly and you watched as he stuck them in his mouth to suck them clean,

“Mhm, fuck, I’ll eat you next time, don’t even try to stop me”

You spread your legs as he sat back on his haunches and pushed his briefs down, finally. You couldn’t make out his size in the dark but you had already felt that it was a little bigger than what you were used to.

Jin gripped himself, moving his hand along his dick and sighing,

“Can’t believe this is happening…”

He said and leaning back down, hovering over your body,

“Wanted this for so long”

He continued and you let your hand travel over his naked chest as he guided his dick to slide through your wetness. You watched him shudder and a breath hitched in his throat as his dick made contact with your wet, warm centre,

“God, feels so good already, Jin, don’t tease me”

He bent down and kissed you,

“I won’t, I just…”

He hesitated for a second and took a deep breath,

“I don’t have any condoms with me, I wasn’t really planning on this to happen”

You smiled at the sudden insecurity in his voice and gently ran a hand through his dishevelled hair,

“It’s fine, I have an IUD, you don’t have to worry”,

“I can come inside you? You sure?”,

“I want you to”,

“Fuck…”

Jin went right back to kissing and sucking on your neck,

“Please, Jin, fuck me, come inside me… want you so bad”

The way you sounded so fucking whiney and sweet; he moaned into your skin and rubbed his dick along your pussy before he slowly pushed the head inside. Unprepared for the incredible feeling of your wet, tight pussy around his dick, he pushed in even more, swallowing all your moans and pleas. Never had he felt this good before, literally never. Your pussy felt so damn good around him, he wasn’t even completely sure this was real,

“Ah, Jin!”

He could tell you tried to be quiet,

“Shit, it’s so big…”,

“You ok? Want me to go slow?”

He asked for your comfort, yet he wasn’t sure he could do anything about it because his dick was definitely pushing itself deeper inside you of its own accord. He probably couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to,

“No, I’m fine, it feels amazing”

You threw your head back into the grass and Jin bent a little to suck your nipple back into his mouth, adding to your pleasure even more.

He pushed in deeper and deeper, moving his hips until they wouldn’t go any further and he was balls deep inside you. Even if you didn’t, he needed a moment to come back to reality and not finish before he had even started. You held him so tightly and he squeezed every bit of skin he could reach as your hips moved against his, stealing his breath and making him feel so fucking good,

“You feel so good, YN, so fucking good”

He closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the feeling of your body against his,

“So wet, so tight- this pussy’s made for me”

He mumbled against your skin and kissed and sucked what his lips could find. He wanted to be more in control, wanted to be more focused on your pleasure but it just felt so good. He could only hope he was making you feel as good as he possibly could,

“Jin, touch me…”

He heard you sigh and he placed one last kiss to your lips before he pushed himself up to sit back, so he could bring his fingers back to your clit,

“Like this?”

He asked as he rubbed you and immediately felt you clench around him,

“Yes, ah… like that”,

He lifted your leg onto his shoulder with his other hand, spreading you even more for him. This new angle had him hitting you deeper and Jin did his very best to hit all the right places. He already felt his end approaching and he knew he couldn’t hold it off for long,

“Jin, fuck, I’m close, don’t stop”

Your words were music to his ears. He held your leg tightly to his chest, fucking you deeper and harder, working his fingers as close to the rhythm his hips were setting as possible,

“That’s it, baby, come for me”

He ben forward slightly, wanting to be closer to you, wanting to see your face when you came,

“Come all over my dick”

His words made you feel hot all over and you felt your muscles contracting, bringing you closer to your end,

“Ahh, I’m gonna come”

Your voice was strained and you put both of your hands over your mouth, knowing this was gonna be a loud one. Jin was captivated by the pure look of pleasure on your face and devoted all of his movements to making you come, desperate to see your face and feel you clench around his dick,

“Gonna come for me? I can feel it, baby, tell me what to do”,

“Just like that, don’t stop”,

“You’re so beautiful… look so good like this; I want you so much”

He told you all the things he always wanted you to know and more until he felt your pussy tighten around him and your leg spasm in his grip while you moaned through your hands in a desperate attempt to deafen the noise as you came around him. He pushed in so deep, revelling in the feeling of your orgasm and letting his own take over.

He bent down, pushing your hands out of your face and capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss that made your toes curl like that orgasm just did. He came so deep inside you, filling you up so good and holding you so tight and close, you never wanted him to let you go.

As your muscles relaxed and your breathing evened out again, just like Jin’s, he took your hands in his and kissed them before intertwining your fingers and pressing another long, deep kiss to your lips,

“Jeesus, Jin, I never would have thought you’d talk so dirty to me”

Was the first thing that came to your mind as he slipped out of you and lay down next to you. He let out a hearty laugh and ran a hand over his face,

“I don’t know what came over me”

He said and you smiled,

“I just bring out the best in you, don’t I?”

He squeezed your hand lovingly,

“My best is definitely in you, yes”

He snickered and you slapped his shoulder,

“You’re so nasty, Jin!”

You both giggled as suddenly a loud voice rang through your post-orgasmic bliss,

“You’re both nasty! Fucking like horny teenagers while all your friends are trying to sleep? What are you, 16? Get a damn room next time, fuck!”

Both of you recognized Yoongi’s voice. You probably woke him up or kept him from sleeping,

“Whoops…”

You said, hiding your face in Jin’s neck,

“You should be happy it’s only happened now! Otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten any sleep at all!”

Jin yelled back and you laughed even harder.

He had exactly zero shame and that was probably why you worked so well together. And you continued to work well together two more times that night. And then you continued to work even better together for a lot more years to come.

Submitted by @befriendswithj

#bts #bts fics #bts Jin #kim seokjin #kim seokjin fic #seokjin fanfic #seokjin #jin

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tsthrace · 4 years

Text

What does a girl do when she realizes she needs to cut an entire chapter from her WIP because it doesn’t fit? She posts it to tumblr.

So yeah, this starts to build a scary world that might look a little too close to our world. It might introduce you to this badass trauma surgeon, Dr. Griffin, who needs to make a quick escape. And then it might leave you hanging. Forever.

Well, not exactly forever. This is now Clarke’s backstory for my WIP. She’ll resurface years later on a church-turned-farmstead. Guess who’s the priest of this church? So yeah...

Content warning: mention of rape (but no rape itself) and just general hits-too-close-to-home: you know—fascism, totalitarianism, misogyny, toxic masculinity. Oh, and Clarke swears a lot.

It’s angsty. That’s what I do.

3,260 words. No tagging for Clexa, because Lexa doesn’t come on the scene yet.

It’s also posted over on ao3 if you’d rather read it there.

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We all thought it couldn’t happen here, even as it was happening here.

Clarke had been running for so long that she wasn’t sure if she was still being chased. She had spent the last six years wandering through parts of Washington she never knew existed. First to an abandoned sawmill a few miles east of Mansford in the mountains. It was a glorified barn, really, but a community of refugees from Seattle had been gathering there, doing their best to patch up the building’s roof and walls. Then, there was still enough gas to transport what they needed if they rationed properly. But they were all adjusting to life without electricity, without phones, without any sense of who they were without those things.

She was there only three months when word came that a militia had materialized in Darrington and was registering children and looking for doctors and healers. Healers. That’s what they called women with Clarke’s skills. People who had gone to school for 13 years, who had prioritized their craft over their health, their family, their relationships for a grueling residency followed by an only slightly less grueling fellowship. They called men doctors, even if they were less educated, less skilled, and less practiced.

Fuck them. Clarke’s response had become reflexive. It was her internal response when the police came that first night of what some called the Resistance but what the police called the Riots.

Unrest had been brewing for months, but It was when the President “temporarily” suspended the First Amendment right to assemble that all hell broke loose. Thousands of protestors became tens of thousands, even in small cities like Spokane and Tacoma. Police traded rubber bullets for real ones, patrol cars for tanks, pistols for AK-47s. Dozens of people landed in Clarke’s hospital, some gone before they were taken out of the ambulance, ripped apart by the people sworn to serve and protect them.

That was the night two officers were trawling the halls of her ward, looking for “resistors” to arrest.

“They’re unconscious,” Clark said slowly. “They’re sedated because they’re waiting to go into surgery.” She knew it was a bad idea to talk to them like they were kindergartners, but she couldn’t stop herself. What these men were doing was sick. Her patients were here because of them. Some of them filled with bullet holes, their lives barely clinging to them, others with collapsed lungs caused by broken ribs, others with simple fractures who would be out to fight another day. But Clarke wasn’t going to tell these guys that.

“Is there someone else we can talk to?” The officer said. His name badge said Blakely. “Maybe your boss?”

Clarke felt her fingernails digging into her palm. “Officer Blakely—”

“Corporal Blakely.”

Clarke went on as if she didn’t hear him. “I’m the person with the highest seniority here right now. If you’d like me to call the Chief of Surgery...”

Blakely pulled out a pad and pen. “What’s his name?”

“Her name is Dr. Marris.”

Blakely scoffed but wrote down the name.

“Is there a problem?” Clarke bent a little to catch his eye with her glare.

“Not at all.”

After that night, everything changed. The President sent in federal troops. There were tanks outside police precincts, and men in uniform carrying AK-47s stood at every corner in downtown and Capitol Hill. They rode the light rail, searching for enemies and booting out anyone who fell asleep on the trains. Curfews were instituted. Clarke had to have her ID and a letter from the hospital ready after every shift. The same soldiers (or were they cops?) stopped her every night, even after the sixth time when everyone knew everyone’s names. She had written theirs down. Because fuck them.

Two months later, the Seattle PD renamed themselves Washington’s 1st Militia when the President had encouraged all “patriots and protectors of freedom to band together, arm, and fight for American values.” Police departments across the country took this as a rallying call. They traded their police uniforms for military fatigues. They tore off their city badges and replaced them with a thin blue line. Bros before everything else, even democracy.

They pulled her out of the OR as soon as she wrapped up a craniotomy. It was her third surgery of the day, and her hands were stiff, her scrubs covered in sweat. The two soldiers’ assault rifles startled her, but she’d seen enough gore in her time to know how to keep a straight face. Blakely was back, but this time he was dressed like he was serving in a desert war zone.

“Officer Blakely.” She remembered he was a corporal but fuck him.

The corner of Blakely’s mouth lifted in a sharp smirk. She watched as his eyes glided down her body. “Congratulations, Ms. Griffin, you’ve been recruited to Washington’s First. We are in need of fine healers like yourself.”

Fuck you. The words raced through her mind, but she kept her mouth shut. She understood by now that those words aloud could do nothing but put her in danger. “How can I be of service?” she asked evenly, looking him straight in the eye. She had heard rumors that the militias were taking medical workers from their hospitals and clinics to set up their own facilities, but she thought they’d only take men for their specialists and surgeons.

“You need to come with us,” Blakely looked down at the sweat stains under her arms.

Clarke didn’t move. “What kind of healers are you looking for?” she asked in her most neutral tone.

“A variety, ma’am.” Blakely’s jaw stiffened.

A small crowd of the floor’s staff had gathered at the nurses’ station, halfheartedly pretending to work while they watched the interaction.

“Like nurses? There are a lot of nurses here who are much better at their jobs than I would be.” Clarke laughed lightly and glanced at the nurses. “I’d make a terrible nurse.”

A few of the nurses nodded, their eyes smiling because smiling with their lips might bring trouble.

“We already have healers for that kind of work.” Blakely took in a breath and looked around the floor, frustrated. He knew he’d said too much. “Maybe we should go somewhere—”

“Then I can’t possibly think why you’d need me. I’m sure there are doctors who can meet your needs.”

“Ms. Griffin—”

“After all, there are two other trauma surgeons on staff here more suited to your, uh, preferences.” Clarke glanced down at Blakely’s groin.

“I was sent to find you, Ms. Griffin.”

The more he called her “Ms.,” the more her resolve solidified. “I just can’t imagine what anyone would want with little old me.” She covered her voice in maple syrup. “Dr. Lee and Dr. Bancroft are very fine surgeons, very respectable. Dr. Lee graduated top of his class from UW. I’m supervising his fellowship, and he’s very skilled.” Clarke let the words roll like waves along a beach on a calm day. “And Dr. Bancroft is who we call whenever we need a feeding tube done right the first time. His focus on fundamentals is exceptional—”

“They want you,” Blakely said more loudly than he intended.

Say it, she taunted him with a sharp look, though the words that came out were light. “I’ll call Dr. Lee. I’m sure he’d be more suitable to you—”

“Ms. Griffin—”

“You’d rather have Dr. Bancroft? Sorry. I thought you’d want the more skilled surgeon, but to be honest, we do perform a lot more feeding tube placements than major—”

“We know you’re the best.” Blakely growled, giving in.

Clarke had won, but she still felt empty. “You can’t even call me a doctor.”

“Protocol.” Blakely refused to look at her. “Come with us, ma’am.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You can appeal on grounds of pregnancy or motherhood.”

Clarke scoffed. “Of course.” She didn’t even try to hide her disdain, though she knew she had to play along. She looked down at her scrubs. “I need to change.”

“Of course,” Blakely said. His smile was sharp, an insult. “Though we’ll need to supervise.”

Clarke bit down hard. She had not joined the Resistance, but she’d been obsessively keeping track of their Instagram posts at @emeraldcityjustice. Militiamen never raped, she’d learned, especially if the woman was white and of marrying age. They didn’t call it rape, though, they called it “sexual theft.” They were not to spoil another man’s property (or potential property), and that meant no touching. This restriction forced men to get creative, find new ways of dominating without ruining the goods. Resisting, the posts said, meant speaking the militia’s language.

“But I say unto you, that whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.” Clarke had memorized some key verses, and she said this one loud enough for everyone around the nursing station to hear it. “Matthew 5:28. I think those are words in red. You know, Jesus. The son of God himself.” She would not let these fuckers anywhere near her.

Blakely squinted and his face turned to stone.

“The locker room is on the second floor,” she said. “You two are welcome to wait outside the door, if you like.” Clarke strode towards the elevator. Blakely glared at her a few moments before nodding at his partner. They followed her into the elevator. Clarke looked at her watch. 10:15 p.m. Shift change. The locker room would be packed.

“We need to sweep,” Blakely said as they stepped off the elevator and approached the locker room door.

Clarke sighed loudly. There was no use in arguing. Blakely nodded towards the key swipe. Clarke swiped her badge and a little red light on the handle turned green. Blakely opened the door then turned conspicuously so that his back was facing the opening.

“This is Corporal Blakely of Washington’s First Militia,” he shouted into the room. The volume of his voice made Clarke jump. “Private Cooks and I will be doing a sweep of this locker room in two minutes. Those who are not appropriately covered at that time will be taken into custody.” Blakely let the door close behind him and set a timer on his Apple watch.

Are you fucking kidding me? Clarke didn’t say out loud.

Five minutes later, Blakely and Cooks were back out in the hallway. Clarke knew they wouldn’t find anything. The locker room was a windowless space that was mostly concrete and tile. It had one exit, a fire hazard long ignored because that part of the hospital had been built 140 years ago. The only other door was a closet full of cleaning supplies.

Blakely nodded at Clarke to go inside.

“You have five minutes,” he said, fiddling with his watch again.

“I’d like to shower.”

“Four minutes and fifty-seven seconds. If you don’t come out on time, we will come in.”

Clarke swallowed and pushed through the door. Dozens of annoyed eyes lifted as she walked in. She just shook her head as she walked past them.

Because it was an old hospital, doctors—female doctors, even surgeons—shared the locker room with nurse supervisors, charge nurses and other medical staff who had seniority. (Male doctors, especially surgeons, did not share a locker room with anyone, of course.) It bothered Clarke on principle, but for the most part she liked being around the non-doctor staff, and it didn’t hurt to have a friendly relationship with the nurses when she was on the floors.

The women’s eyes quickly went back to their tasks of leaving. Between the unrest and a new virus no one seemed to know anything about, the hospital, which was already under-resourced, had been over capacity for weeks now. Everyone was tired, stressed, and getting more and more afraid. They just wanted to get home as soon as possible. The later at night, the more aggressive the patrols got.

Clarke walked to her locker and took a few deep breaths as she quickly spun the lock to its numbers and pulled it open. She took off her white coat and hung it on the hanger inside. She pulled out her backpack and checked that her phone charger was inside. She pulled her wallet out and stared at her driver’s license for a long moment, not sure if it would be a liability. She decided to bring it, along with her curfew papers, and a used copy of The Obelisk Gate she’d picked up from Horizon Books a few weeks ago but never opened. Next, she stuffed her street clothes inside along with two sets of clean scrubs (only later would she wonder why she took the scrubs). Finally, she grabbed the two boxes of protein bars and four bottles of Gatorade that she kept there to keep her energy up on long shifts.

Clarke almost laughed at how much could fit in her small backpack.

She looked at her watch. Three minutes left. Shit. She almost forgot to switch watches. She pulled off the little cheap thing she used at the hospital and replaced it with her dad’s chunky but sleek metal piece. It was heavy on her wrist, but that’s what she liked about it. Somehow she felt safer with it on.

She swallowed. She needed to move, but to move meant everything would be different. She threw her shoulders back, lifted her hands in front of her, palms up as if making an offering, and took in a deep breath. It’s what she did whenever she was about to make a first cut. She closed her eyes, felt the ground solid under her feet, felt her heart slow to steady saunter.

Clarke smiled to herself. It was a heavy smile, sad and defiant. Fuck them.

She grabbed her backpack, slung it over her shoulder, and walked to the broom closet.

“You alright, Dr. Griffin?” A voice rang out. Veró, the charge nurse from the post-op wing, looked up as Clarke was about to go inside. Her eyes were nervous.

“I will be,” Clarke replied as she closed the door. “Take good care of yourself, Veró. Be safe. You didn’t see me, okay?”

Veró nodded. “You stay safe, Clarke.” She closed her eyes for a long moment. Her smile was heavy with concern. “I didn’t see nothing.”

Clarke held Veró’s eyes for a long moment, then nodded, stepped into the closet, and closed the door behind her. It was a small space, but large enough for two people to fit—a fact Clarke had exploited with Lu, a nurse from the Telemetry unit, several times. There was a small, dirty, pointless window at the top of the closet that she and Lu had covered with a tray from the cafeteria so that the janitors in their breakroom across the alley couldn’t watch them taking their break. During the day, thin streaks of light leaked in around the edges. Clarke was grateful it was so late and that the alley outside got so little light. The metal shelving served as the perfect ladder, sturdy and wide. She disrupted the toilet paper and big bottles of cleaner as she climbed, leaving hints of her escape, but there was nothing to be done about it. The top shelf was blessedly empty, too high up to be useful.

She pulled the tray out of the way to reveal a window that was smaller than she expected. She turned a small latch and pushed the window. It didn’t budge. She pushed it again, harder this time, though she didn’t have much leverage. Nothing happened. The shelf wobbled minutely under her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

It held steady as she gingerly pulled her full body onto the top shelf. She barely fit up there. She checked her watch. She maybe had a minute. Probably less. Clarke hit the base of the window with the flat of her palm. Nothing. She hit it again. Still nothing. She took a breath and closed her eyes.

Please.

She hit it again and heard a tiny scrape. One more push, and the window swung open with an achy shriek. It might have been shut for decades. Clarke was lucky. The drop from the second floor window to the sidewalk was short. The alley swept upwards from 9th Ave., ending at the top with the fifth floor’s windows being at street level.

She was out, and she had no idea what to do. By now, Blakely and Cooks would have noticed that she hadn’t come out. Maybe they’d give her another minute. She remembered the Apple watch.

Her mind churned and tumbled. She had opened holes in skulls with drills and saws. She had cracked ribs to expose hearts that stopped beating in front of her eyes. But now, on this warm summer night on an empty sidewalk, she didn’t know what to do. So she ran. The hospital was a mess of old buildings connected by narrow alleys—easy to get lost. But Clarke had done her residency and fellowship here—spent nearly a quarter of her life here—and while she didn’t know the alleys, she knew the buildings, recognized the skyways above linking everything together. She slid from shadow to shadow in the direction of the interstate. It was an intuitive decision, the way she knew exactly where to find the bleeding in surgery.

She kept moving, the rolling rumble of the highway getting closer. Finally, she found herself at the parking garage and knew exactly where to go. She walked calmly through the first level reserved for people going to the ED. She was careful to avoid the security booth where Mitch would be. He was a good guy, and Clarke didn’t want to bring him any trouble. She moved quickly towards an emergency exit which brought her to a fire escape facing the interstate. During her first year as resident, she and Dr. Salem used to meet there to smoke a joint after a 30-hour shift.

She paused. Think. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. Her breath caught when she came across her mom’s contact. You could have called, she could already hear her saying. We would have figured it out. Even if there was enough time for her mom to get from Whidbey Island to the city—and there wasn’t—it wouldn’t be safe. Anyone she called could be implicated and punished. Unless she chose to crawl back into the hospital, she was now an RRL, a Resistor of the Rule of Law.

This is moment everything changes. The thought cracked across her mind like lightning and disappeared just as fast. The thunder would roll on for years and years.

She closed her contacts and opened Instagram instead. She went to the @emeraldcityjustice profile. Her grin was grim as she hit the Message button. How ridiculous this world had become.

“Canada or the mountains?”

“What?” Clarke shook herself out of a haze. The driver hadn’t spoken since he picked her up from a dark corner under the interstate where @emeraldcityjustice had told her to go. They immediately turned east over the lake to Bellevue.

“You’ll have to decide at the drop point in Everett,” the driver went on. “They can either get you on a ferry to Canada or you can head to a refugee community in the mountains.” He glanced over his shoulder to the back seat where she was lying down to avoid facial recognition cameras on the interstate. “Do you want to escape or do you want to fight?”

THE END. THAT’S IT. I’M SORRY.

#the 100 fanfiction #clarke griffin #WIP backstory #clexa fic backstory #action

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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reesewestonarchive · 5 years

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chapter five / rem belongs to @forlornraven / masterpost / mature content

I don’t have a tag list so if you’re interested lemme know

South of the California border, Nakoa finds it.

The weather’s good, better than the Midwest, and Rem’s attitude is better. Freer.

Nakoa likes him like this. He buys booze and cigarettes with money that he won in pool in Vegas, and Nakoa makes a deal with a hippie they meet outside a record store for weed, and strolls the streets of Ferris, California high as a kite.

He feels pretty fucking good when he finds it, a tiny shop tucked away in between a coffeeshop and a consignment store. Music plays so loud it drifts onto the street, and Nakoa steps inside after he puts his joint out.

The shop owner lifts a hand at him in greeting, but says nothing. There’s a sign overhead that reads, DISCOUNT CASSETTES - $2 and Nakoa makes his way there, ignoring the albums and the deep seated desire he has to own them again.

When he gets a job. When he settles down.

London Calling sits right on top, along with a few other albums. Nakoa peeks inside, makes sure they’re right, that they’re really the one he wants, and… they are. All of them in damn near pristine condition.

Nakoa blinks. Picks up all three albums, puts them carefully on the counter and slaps seven dollars on the counter as well.

The clerk blinks at him. “Cassettes?”

“The van only has a tape deck.” Nakoa prefers it. CDs scratch, they skip. A tape deck can be rewound, if the ribbon comes out. Spliced back together.

The sound quality sucks, but Nakoa’ll make do.

The clerk shoves the tapes into a brown paper bag, and Nakoa leaves.

Stuffs it into his pocket, and continues down the street, taking in the city.

LA’s bigger, but Ferris is huge. Nakoa feels anonymous, here, lost amongst the sea of suits and skirts. There’s freedom, here, in a way Nakoa isn’t used to, even from the days in car from Withervale.

He crosses the crosswalk, wonders what Rem’s doing now. If he found another idiot to hustle, if he’s gambling.

If he’s still lying in the room at the motel, like he was when Nakoa left him.

“Hey,” Nakoa says, when he opens the door to the motel room, digging for the joint as he does. “I have something for—”

The motel room is fucking trashed. The bed upended, the TV sideways on the floor, scratches in the walls. Broken tables.- light flickers from where it hangs on the wall, and.

There’s a lot of fucking blood. Nakoa’s mouth goes dry, and he takes a careful step forward into the room. Wonders if he should say anything. If he should call Rem’s name, or turn around and leave.

Th van still sits in the parking lot, though, so Nakoa steps forward, into the room.

“Rem?” he calls, quiet, then louder. “This some kind of fucking trick?”

Shallow breathing, and Nakoa wishes he had a weapon. But then, Rem’s arm comes over the side of the bed, still donned in the bracelets he always wears. Relief might wash through him were it not for the blood.

“What the fuck?”

Rem staggers to his feet. “It’s—fine. Shut up.”

“There’s—” Nakoa makes a gesture to the walls. “No!” He feels a bit like he’s flailing in the water, trying not to drown when he should know how to swim. It’s not the first time. It won’t be the last.

“It’s not mine,” Rem says, like that’s supposed to help. His voice is strained. He’s holding his side, limping, and—”Don’t give me that look, Warren.”

Nakoa clenches his jaw. “What happened.”

His brain is a fog of relaxation and weed and Rem is a fan blowing it all away.

Rem sits on the edge of the bed. Surveys the damage. “The van’s still out there, right?”

“That’s not a fucking answer!”

His voice sounds too loud in the space, and someone knocks on the walls, harsh and Nakoa has half a mind to ask them what the fuck happened.

The album weighs heavy in his pocket. He says, “Rem. What the fuck?”

A beat and then Rem snaps, “Like you’re some kind of fucking saint.” Before Nakoa can respond, he says, “I was cleaning up your mess.”

“What mess?!” What has Nakoa done, aside from shop, get high, fake ID himself into a liquor store; beside put the idea of leaving in Rem’s head to begin with—besides pay for the fucking motel rooms and food, and—

Nakoa grits his teeth.

“You’re an addict,” Rem says, pot calling the kettle, and, Nakoa sees red. “And you’re more trouble than you’re worth, you know that?” His tone falls flat on his tongue and, hell. Nakoa grinds his teeth, angry and lost and heartbroken. “Always looking for your next fix.”

“Fuck you,” Nakoa says, and wishes the blood on the walls were Rem’s, because maybe then he’d shut up. “You—” He wants to punch him, but—

Rem stares at the walls, at the floor, his voice sharp when he says, “Why’d I fucking come with you?”

His tone is vicious. Nakoa’s not sure he’s ever heard him so fucking irritated, so irate, so cruel. Rem says a lot of shit, his mouth gets him into trouble in more than one way, but Nakoa’s not used to being on the receiving end.

“What the fuck did I do? Besides give a shit about you, want you to be happy?” Nakoa grits his teeth. He can’t throw punches, really wants to knee Rem in the dick for this, for dragging Nakoa across the country and pulling this on him because—

Because he got fucking scared.

Rem’s still talking, continuing to throw shit around the room, cursing Nakoa’s tendencies towards whiskey and weed, at the one time he tried heroin, voice growing louder and louder until Nakoa snaps.

“You want me gone, I’m gone. Take the fucking van.” Nakoa pulls the albums from his jacket, holds them in the air, then throws them at Rem’ chest, grateful for the way he flinches, for the clack the cases make as they fall to the floor. “Good fucking luck.”

He turns, then, sticks his hands in his pocket, and disappears through the door to the room.

“Where are you going, Warren?” Rem calls, stalking after him.

“Doesn’t matter. Not here.”

Panic might settle in his chest, if it weren’t for the weed clouding his head. He’ll figure it out. Sell himself, if he has to.

But Rem grabs at Nakoa’s arm, desperation written across his face, and Nakoa almost gives. Almost. “I’m—Nakoa. Come on.”

Just fucking once, Nakoa wishes he’d say please. “What?”

Rem licks his lips, lets go of Nakoa’s wrist. “Don’t make me say it.”

Because it’s so terrible. Nakoa goes, anyway, won’t, doesn’t listen.

It starts raining. Nakoa walks around town, without Rem at his side, and in Ferris, it’s hard to not draw attention. Nakoa ducks into a bar, flashes a fake ID, and downs three shots of whiskey in one go. It’s smooth, warm, gentle.

The things Rem aren’t, and Nakoa knows he won’t find an answer at the bottom of a shot glass, but.

Worth a try, anyway.

He keeps to his own, glaring at anybody that tries for conversation. Nakoa’s chest aches with fury, but as the night wears on, and the clock ticks closer to last call, Nakoa regrets leaving.

Did Rem leave, Nakoa wondered. If all that’s left is Nakoa’s shit. Would he? Would Rem leave him here? Alone in a strange town. Nakoa’s been left in worse places, but the idea that Rem left, without him, is… fuck, he wishes he could call him. Talk to him without seeing his face.

He closes his eyes and shoves his palms against his eyes. The bartender clicks her tongue and says, “Suck it up, sweetie. Life just gets more exhausting the older you get.”

With a peek through his fingers, Nakoa says, “Great.” Life already seems pretty shit. Nakoa can’t take much more. “That’s uplifting.”

“Not my job to reassure,” she says, and Nakoa thinks he’d sleep with her, if she asked. “My job is to pour shots. You ready for round two?”

Round two ends up in the alleyway behind the bar, smell of vomit and alcohol pungent in the air. Maybe Nakoa’s not the only one drowning a past he’d rather not remember.

Rem is beside himself at the motel, pacing back and forth with his keys in his hand when Nakoa stumbles through the front door. “Thank fuck,” Rem says, his expression so relieved it looks painful.

Like nothing he’s ever felt before, Nakoa wants to touch. Rest his head against Rem’s chest and wrap his arms around his torso. Press his nose against Rem’s jaw, and…

“Are you okay?”

Nakoa nods. The world spins. He shakes his head. Closes his eyes against the onslaught of nausea and says, “Move,” shoving Rem out of the way and heading to the bathroom to dry heave into the toilet.

Sick sounds echo off the tile in the room, and Nakoa’s muscles ache, but he sits for an hour. Half an hour, until he stops feeling woozy. Until he can get up and…

He makes it to the other room, collapses on the bed. Just a second later and Rem sits beside him, drawing his fingers through Nakoa’s hair with feather light touches.

Nakoa hums. Pushes against Rem’s hand.

“Feeling any better?”

No. Nakoa says nothing, squirms down to rest his head on Rem’s lap, though, one leg on the floor to keep the spinning in his head down. Even the thought of talking sends his stomach into twists, so he draws his nails along the seam of Rem’s jeans.

With a sigh, Rem starts working at Nakoa’s shoulders. It’s as much of an apology Nakoa thinks he’ll ever get. “I’m glad you came back,” he says, his voice soft and quiet. Nakoa waits, for an explanation, for anything, but Rem says nothing. Not about that, anyway. Not about what Nakoa wants him to say. “We could stay here,” he suggests instead.

“No,” Nakoa says. He hates California already. “Mountains.”

Before he passes out, he hears Rem’s soft chuckle, thinks he must imagine the fondness seeping through.

When Nakoa wakes, it’s to the dim glow of the television, Rem’s soft breathing behind him. Rem’s arm is a comfortable weight over Nakoa’s waist.

He has, he notes with distaste, vomit in his hair, and the entire room smells of it—and lemon cleanser, distantly.

Nakoa pulls a hand up to scrub at his face, stare at the ceiling.

Thinks this place is garbage. In a way, he misses the midwest. He never got in trouble in the midwest… at least, not like this.

He shoves Rem’s arm off his waist and sits. Sits on the edge of the bed and feels a thousand years old, a headache that pounds at the back of his skull like a hammer.

“Mm?” Rem says, reaching out. His fingers brush the back of Nakoa’s shirt. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Nakoa says. “Go back to sleep.”

He goes for a shower, then, cold not by choice but by poor water heaters, lets the chill wash goosebumps over his skin. Nakoa’s been high once, one time since they left Withervale, and… what would the hippie have to do with him, now? Nakoa paid. He paid extra, even, because he liked the guy.

…is that what he did wrong?

The door to the bathroom opens. Through the frosted glass door, Nakoa makes out Rem’s form as he comes in. Still, Nakoa says nothing, turns away, shoves his face under the water.

Not sure if it’s shame or anger keeping him from speaking.

The door slides open after a minute and Nakoa hears, feels Rem’s presence as he climbs in behind him. “Shit that’s cold—” he says, and presses himself against Nakoa’s back.

“What are you doing?” Nakoa asks, his voice barely audible over the roar of the water. Rem presses his lips to Nakoa’s shoulders in a kiss. He’s tired. He aches, everywhere, but especially his stomach, his shoulders, with the effort of throwing up. The last thing he wants to do right now is balance for shower sex, or get on his knees.

But Rem’s hand doesn’t travel downward, doesn’t go anywhere except around Nakoa’s waist to tug him tight against him. He’s not hard, either. Not yet. Nakoa’ll give it five minutes and call it.

“You freaked me out,” Rem says, his voice soft. “Thought… what if he doesn’t come back?”

Nakoa goes still, his eyes set on the small bar of soap sitting on the ledge, but that’s… it. Doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t know that he can. His toes are starting to feel like ice. He twists the hot water all the way to the left, but even as the water finally starts to warm up, Rem is still like a fire against his back.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you?”

“This supposed to be an apology?” Nakoa asks. He reaches for the soap, not sure if he cares about pissing Rem off, now. Let him be pissed. What’s he going to do, leave Nakoa here? “It’s pretty fucking lacking.”

“Fuck you,” Rem says. His voice isn’t as harsh as Nakoa thinks he means for it to be, though. Instead, it’s… softer, quiet. Gentle, and Nakoa suppresses a shudder when Rem brushes his lips along the back of his neck. He pushes Nakoa’s wet hair out of the way and adds, “It’s good you came back.”

All the right sentiment and the wrong words. Nakoa relents, finally, says, “Don’t have anywhere else to go.” And he doesn’t. He’s not sure what might await him at home, but he’s not keen on finding out. The other options are hardly appealing—wandering the countryside as a homeless weirdo… Nakoa’ll pass.

Even at his worst, Rem’s still the best thing that’s ever happened to Nakoa. A lifetime of shit led them here, in this moment.

“What do you want from me?”

The water pounds against Nakoa’s skin, almost aching now in its heat. He closes his eyes, rubs soap against his body, and thinks. Commitment’s too much to ask. Nakoa’s not sure he wants it anyway. What would he do with commitment?

“I don’t know,” Nakoa says.

Rem doesn’t speak, after that.

The bed feels better after cleaning the grime off, so just as daylight begins to peek out of the curtains, Nakoa climbs back under the covers. The sheets smell like Rem and spilled whiskey, and he inhales once, twice, heavy and deep, before he settles in.

His head isn’t pounding as bad, anyway. Finally.

Rem’s pulling on his boots at the small table, though. He pauses before he ties the last one, his gaze heavy enough on Nakoa that Nakoa opens an eye, then two. He croaks, “What?” and doesn’t expect an answer.

“I’ll be back later.”

And out the door he goes.

The trouble is, Nakoa’s used to Rem’s disappearances. Before the door’s even locked behind Rem, Nakoa’s eyes are closed again. Rem does better no questions asked, so Nakoa doesn’t ask. Figures if it’s important, Rem will tell him.

He dreams of white picket fences, of guys with clubs and bats, of broken windows and Rem’s bloody knuckles. Of motel rooms across the country, of Disneyland. Of being happy, and Nakoa thinks, that’s what he should have told Rem, when he asked in the shower what Nakoa wanted from him.

Happiness.

#road to nowhere au #my writing

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Wargame Wednesday: Battle of the Bulge 18th and 62nd Volksgrenadier Divisions, 14th Armored Group and the 106th Infantry Division

Starting Positions

Introduction for this series here. This post discusses the terrain, some items considered during scenario design and a Q&A with the scenario designer.

The 18th Volksgrenadier (VG) Division holds my right flank and was opposed by the 14th Armored Group (AG) and the 422nd Regiment of the ill-fated 106th Infantry Division (ID). The 62nd VG Division is on my left and their jumping off positions are west of the German town of Prum. The armored Führerbegleit Brigade (Führer Escort) is in reserve behind the 18th VG Division, ready to exploit weaknesses in the American line.

Link to a map showing the initial attacks on the 106th ID from Hugh M. Cole’s The Ardennes: Battle of the Bulge.

The image above uses satellite imagery to show the importance of the Losheim Gap on the course of the battle. A larger image, discussion on the starting positions and reason for the blue line are available by clicking on the image or here.

More after the jump.

Terrain

Hugh Cole discusses the battlefield and I’ve selected some of his text for context.

Page 43. The road network:

“The road net in 1944 was far richer than the population and the economic activity of the Ardennes would seem to warrant. This was not the result of military planning, as in the case of the Eifel rail lines, but rather of Belgian and Luxemburgian recognition of the value of automobile tourisme just prior to World War II. All of the main roads had hard surfaces, generally of macadam. Although the road builders tried to follow the more level stretches of the ridge lines or wider valley floors, in many cases the roads twisted sharply and turned on steep grades down into a deep ravine and out again on the opposite side. The bridges were normally built of stone.”

“The normal settlement in the Ardennes was the small village with stone houses and very narrow, winding streets. These villages often constricted the through road to single-lane traffic. Another military feature was the lone farmstead or inn which gave its name to the crossroads at which it stood.”

Pg 46. Geography:

“The geography of the Ardennes leads inevitably to the channelization of large troop movements east to west, will tend to force larger units to “pile up” on each other, and restricts freedom of maneuver once the direction of attack and order of battle are fixed. To a marked degree the military problem posed by the terrain is that of movement control rather than maneuver in the classic sense.”

“What the German planners saw in 1944 was this: the Ardennes could be traversed by large forces even when these were heavily mechanized. An attack from east to west across the massif would encounter initially the greatest obstacles of terrain, but these obstacles would decrease in number as an advance neared the Meuse.”

“This is mountainous country, with much rainfall, deep snows in winter, and raw, harsh winds sweeping across the plateaus. The heaviest rains come in November and December. The mists are frequent and heavy, lasting well into late morning before they break. Precise predictions by the military meteorologist, however, are difficult because the Ardennes lies directly on the boundary between the northwestern and central European climatic regions and thus is affected by the conjuncture of weather moving east from the British Isles and the Atlantic with that moving westward out of Russia. At Stavelot freezing weather averages 112 days a year, at Bastogne 145 days. The structure of the soil will permit tank movement when the ground is frozen, but turns readily to a clayey mire in time of rain. Snowfall often attains a depth of ten to twelve inches in a 24-hour period. Snow lingers for a long time in the Ardennes but-and this is important in recounting the events of 1944-the deep snows come late.”

Game Design Considerations

The Campaign Series game engine allows a change of visibility on a turn by turn basis. In practice, most designers keep visibility the same for the whole scenario but in this scenario, visibility changes on a daily basis (every 6 turns). My preference would be greater granularity of visibility throughout the six turn day (e.g. fog in the mornings) but fog can be localized, especially in valleys and gullies but visibility settings are universal across the map.

Changing road and field conditions are harder to emulate. In this scenario, snow covers the ground throughout the game but conditions during the battle changed from mud to snow to frozen ground and back to mud. It is possible to change the ground conditions but that would require every player to manually update a game file. In the interests of playability, snow stays on the ground throughout.

A scenario designer always has to weigh the trade offs between realism, playability and the constraints of the game engine. Changes to one aspect can have second or third order effects on the others. For this scenario, the designer has come up with the following compromises:

Realism

Changing visibility on a day by day basis, an improvement over fog throughout the entire game.

6 turns per day. Lots of controversy in the Campaign Series world over how much time one turn represents. Over the years I have developed the following rule of thumb in that for smaller scenarios (up to the battalion level) each turn can account for a smaller period of time, even down to 20 to 30 minutes but for larger scenarios, 6 to 8 turns can equal the historical pace of an offensive. Without getting into a long discussion the bottom line is many daylight hours are spent in coordination, resupply, regrouping, taking cover, etc. Some days it takes a while to motivate oneself to go job. Imagine the time needed to motivate a squad or platoon to charge a machine gun nest.

Playability

Elected to keep the terrain as snow throughout. Not very historical but by changing movement rates any game balance achieved in this version will be thrown off.

Scenario start at first light. A lot of dramatic action was missed (initial German artillery bombardment; German searchlights illuminating the battlefield by reflection from low lying clouds; some Volksgrenadiers caught advancing in the open because of that illumination, and initial engagement with the 14th Armored Group at Krewinke) but the way night combat is simulated by the game engine was unsatisfactory.

Subject for next week’s post and the OOBs but the organizations are pared down a little. Example, battalion level HQs are not included in the game along with smaller caliber mortars (especially the American 61mm mortar which doesn’t make the trade off between game management and effectiveness).

Q&A with the Scenario Designer

Scott Cole: How long have you been working on this scenario?

Von Earlmann: I guess about 10 years or so to include my first modding attempts on the original East Front.

SC: How long did it take to create the map?

VE: The map was a long process as I started with a smaller version and kept adding to it as the scenario grew in my mind.

SC: What was your process for map creation (e.g. which sources did you use)?

VE: I actually found a complete set of battle maps for the whole Ardennes offensive at a lawn sale years ago which was what gave me the initial idea for this monster scenario as it had one map just for the V Panzer AOR (of course, I made the mistake of lending them to someone and they are now long gone). Also, used a lot of the maps and descriptions from the book “A Time for Trumpets“. The last expansion came from maps that Huib (Note: another master scenario designer) sent me from the actual area. I used them for a lot of the terrain and distances. I never did have topographic maps with the elevations so had to wing that but, figured it was the same map for both sides and does depict the toughness of the area to fight in.

SC: What was your philosophy for the OOBs?

VE: The main thing with OOB’s in a large scenario is reducing the number of HQs for smoother supply purposes. I simply eliminated most of the battalion HQs and have the entire regiment trace to regimental HQ by moving the platoons directly under regimental or brigade HQs (note: this is done in a separate OOB file unique to the scenario). It takes a lot of renaming but makes for better command and control and smoother supply.

I usually take out a lot of the smaller indirect fire units such as infantry guns, 81mm mortars and lower and things like machine gun sections. There is nothing that will ruin any large scenario more than watching replays with all those small units firing (Note: usually to no effect, though a direct hit from 81mm mortars can quickly change your plans for the day). In each scenario there is more than enough artillery to make it realistic, especially in this scenario as the Americans have plenty of artillery units (Note: I can attest to that….).

SC: What does this scenario start? I’m guessing after the pre-dawn night combat. For example, the 18th VG Regiment starts west of Krewinkle.

VE: Again, I used some poetic license to place units at start positions. It was a bit easier with the Germans as their forces divide up well over the three map sections. The Americans were a bit tougher as one of the divisions was spread over two sectors (Note: the 106th has some platoons in the center sector). Doing this represents how thin the Americans were spread across the front line.

The scenario beings with actions from 16 through 31 December. I used that time frame to seat weather, reinforcements, unit releases, etc. The basis is one day equals six turns. I know the game is supposed to be 6 minute turns but that is a discussion for another time and seems to work in this scenario.

Next Week

I’ll go over the OOBs for all units mentioned in today’s post and also will discuss the fighting at Krewinkle as the scenario starts after this engagement.

References and Links

The Ardennes: Battle of the Bulge Hugh M. Cole

14th Cavalry in the Losheim Gap

Project 1944. Military historians practicing “living history”.

Index

Intro Bulge Series Post.

Weather chart.

Wargame Wednesday: Battle of the Bulge 18th and 62nd Volksgrenadier Divisions, 14th Armored Group and the 106th Infantry Division published first on https://medium.com/@ReloadedPCGames

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