#if you have his trust he’ll be the best friend you’ve ever had | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smileysuh · 11 months

Text

ghostie

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call. He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend. You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you. Five minutes turns into ten, turns into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut. You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.

tw/cw. yandere/stalker subthemes, unknown caller, weed use, multiple reader orgasms, big dick!Johnny, oral, pussy eating, blowjob, deep throating, spit as lube, fingering, hand riding, dacryphilia, praise, dirty talk, cum/fullness kink, unprotected sex, heavy grinding, dick bulge, creampie, rough groping, slight restraint, size kink, submissive reader, subspace, dumbification, hair pulling, finger sucking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, good girl, pretty girl. (his) Ghostie.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 15k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. this might just be the best John fic I've ever written, or maybe I just need therapy

Sunday

You pause your movie when your phone rings and you look down at the screen. The number is unknown, and you briefly consider not even answering it. However, you’ve had two job interviews in the past week, and you don’t want to miss any opportunities, so with a sigh, you bring your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Tiny, how’s your night going?”

Definitely not a prospective employer. Your sorority gave you the name Tiny during first year, something to do with the ‘tiny’ shots you always want to take, and only those within the Greek system use it on you. On top of the Greek-specific term of endearment, the man on the other end of the line is using a voice modulator of some sort, and it makes it impossible for you to identify him.

Your curiosity is sparked.

“Who is this?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You sigh, leaning back against your bed and setting your laptop to the side. “I get that Scream is having a comeback, but this whole ‘calling a girl and being mysterious’ thing won’t get you laid anytime soon.”

“Are you sure about that?” You can hear a hint of laughter in the man’s voice.

“If you’re not going to tell me who you are, I’ll hang up.”

“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” There’s a pause then, “Let’s just say, a mutual friend gave me your number. They thought we’d hit it off.”

“Whoever this ungendered mutual friend is, I doubt they expected you to call me with a voice modulator and act out a Ghost Face fantasy. I get that Halloween is a week away, but come on… you can’t be serious about this.”

“I am serious. Come on Tiny, live a little.”

“You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you, Mister Ghost Face.”

“I’ve got good reason to be, trust me on that.”

You let out a deep sigh, going through your roster of men who might think this sort of thing would be funny. “Yunho? Is this you getting high again?”

“Wrong frat, but good guess. I didn’t know Alpha Tappa Zeta’s star quarterback was a stoner, thanks for the info, Tiny.”

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself. You hadn’t meant to throw Yunho under the bus like that.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone about his… habits. That would be hypocritical of me.”

You search your mind for the stoners you know. Ones who would have the balls to call you like this.

“Do you want to take another guess? I’ll give you three chances. You have two more.”

Aside from ATZ, you spend a lot of time with Sigma Veta Tau. Soonyoung is a well-known blunt roller in the fraternity system, but he wouldn’t do a charade like this. He’s very open about hitting on you any time you’re at one of his parties.

“Jeonghan?” you ask.

“Last guess, Tiny.”

He doesn’t confirm or deny if you’ve gotten the frat right, but you can’t really see any other SVT members who would fit this mysterious man’s profile.

Your mind wanders to Nu Chi Theta. They’ve got quite a few weed lovers there, and you’ve been invited into many closed-room smoke sessions with the dirty NCT boys.

There’s Yuta, and he’d definitely have the gall to entertain a flirtation like this. However, you don’t know of any mutual friends who would ever set you up with him. With another sigh of irritation, you throw out the last name on your shortlist of stoner acquaintances.

“Hyuck? Please tell me this isn’t you.”

“Close but no cigar.”

“I don’t like this game.”

“You’re not supposed to like it, but it is entertaining, don’t you think?”

“What’s your angle with all of this?” you question. “If you’re not going to tell me who you are, then what’s the point of calling?”

The line is silent for a few moments. “I guess… I just wanted to talk to you a little, is that so bad?”

Your heart softens, if only momentarily. “Then grow some balls and ask me out like a real man.”

“Where would be the fun in that?” The mystery man lets out a short chuckle, and your irritation only grows.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really annoying?”

“A few times actually.”

“Well, you’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met and I haven’t even met you.”

“Yes, you have.”

“God, I’m tired of this. Goodnight.”

You don’t even wait for an answer, you simply hang up.

Despite trying to get back to your movie, you can’t get the mystery man out of your head. When you go to bed you can’t even sleep, your mind completely full of all the possibilities of who your caller could have been.

You’ll have to do some digging tomorrow. You can’t not figure out who this guy is- and you know just the fratboy to give you all the details you could need.

Monday

Mark Lee is always fifteen minutes early, even when it comes to an 8am class. You feel like shit after tossing and turning all night, so when you slide into the seat next to him in the back of the class, he gives you a once over and his lips part in shock.

“Are you okay?”

“No, Mark, I’m not okay,” you snap, regretting it a moment later- after all, Mark’s not the one doing this to you. “Someone called me from an unknown number last night. A frat guy, I’m not sure who. He was using this voice modulator-”

“That sounds hella sketchy.”

“Super sketchy,” you agree.

“I know it’s October and everything, but that’s a weird way to hit on a girl.”

“That’s what I said!” Mark always understands you. “He said a mutual friend gave him my number, thought we’d be cute together or something- whoever it was, I need to strangle them.”

“Is this friend a girl or a guy?”

“Mystery man wouldn’t tell me,” you groan.

“So… this dude could be literally anyone.”

“Not Yunho from Alpha Tappa Zeta, Jeonghan from Sigma Veta Tau, and not your roommate Hyuck. The guy gave me three guesses,” you explain, “the hint is that he’s a stoner.”

“Lots of frat guys are stoners.”

“Exactly,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat.

“What are you going to do if he calls you again?” Mark asks. “This kind of feels like stalker behavior.”

“It does,” you admit. “But at the same time, he calls me Tiny, and he says we’ve met before- when I asked what he even got out of the phonecall he said he just wanted to ‘talk to me a little,’ which, I don’t know, for some reason I feel like he’s not a stalker.”

Mark gives you a look that says ‘You’re crazy,’ and after listening to everything that just spewed out of your own mouth, maybe you kind of agree with him.

“So if he calls you again…” Mark reasks his earlier question, one you’d chosen to ignore.

But you can’t ignore it now, and you let out a deep breath.

“If he calls again… We’ll see what happens.”

“Tiny-”

“Mark,” you counter, knowing he’s about to chastise you. But you don’t want to hear it. If even he doesn’t have any idea of who your mystery caller could be, you simply can’t give up. If you never find out who this ‘Ghost Face’ dude is, you’ll feel unsolved for the rest of your life and you know it.

“Look, I’ll ask around a little,” Mark concedes.

You let out a squeal of delight, throwing your arms around your closet fratboy friend. He lets out a chuckle, gently squeezing you back.

Mark’s a good guy.

If only you were into good guys and not sleazy stoners calling you while getting a hard-on for being Ghost Face.

Monday pt 2

It’s nine o'clock and you’re starting to get tired while you study. You’re in need of a distraction, so when your phone rings with an unknown number, your heart practically jumps into your throat.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Tiny.”

“Wow, Mister Ghost Face,” you laugh, twirling in your spinny chair, “two nights in a row. You must really like me, huh?”

The laugh he lets out sounds genuine, even though his voice is obscured still. For some reason, the noise makes you grin, and you can’t believe you’re actually kind of having fun with this.

“I do like you,” the mystery man confirms. “Tell me about your day.”

“Tell you about my day?” You’re in shock.

“Uh huh.”

“No teasing or nothing? No three guesses about your identity?”

“I’ll tell you what,” he lets out a sigh, “like you said, Halloween is in a week. If you keep letting me call you until then, I’ll reveal myself when you come to the party.”

“The party?” you repeat. “You make it sound like there’s only one frat party on Halloween.”

“Only one worth going to.”

“Is that so?” He’s so cocky- why does that turn you on?

“Yup. In fact, I know you agree with me on this, because the past two Halloweens, you’ve come to my frat.”

Your body freezes. He’s just given you a massive hint-

“So you’re an NCT boy?”

“Wouldn’t call myself a boy, and neither would you if you saw what's in my pants.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, not sure how to even respond to the suggestive comment he’s just made.

The man on the other end of the line lets out a chuckle. “Sorry, I’m two blunts deep. I should watch what I say to you, that's why I asked about your day.”

“You don’t have to- watch what you say, I mean.”

“Yeah?” You can almost picture him leaning back in a chair, a large half-chub growing in his pants- “Are you getting horny from a mystery man on your phone? Dirty girl.”

“Dirty guy,” you counter, “trying to entice me by saying your dick is big.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

“I’m intrigued,” you admit, “but not only because of your cock.”

“It’s a nice cock.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you about my day,” you sidestep. “Had an early class with Mark Lee, you must know Mark.”

“Of course.”

“Well, he has no clue who you could be.”

“You talked about me.”

You can hear him smiling.

“I bet you couldn’t even sleep last night. Too busy trying to figure out who I am.”

Okay, maybe he is a bit of a stalker. Or maybe he just knows you well… who the fuck is this guy?

“Stop being so cocky,” you insist.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Mark told me you’re probably a stalker, said I should maybe block your number.”

“I don’t have a number, if I did, that would be too easy for you. I’m an unknown caller… can you even block unknown callers?”

“I guess we’ll find out when I block you.”

“Won’t happen though. What did you do after your class with Mark?”

“Are you really that interested in my day?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t interested.”

He’s a cocky softy, who would have imagined.

You wonder what you ever did to make this guy so sweet on you- you’ve dated men who don’t even care to ask you how your day went, and this guy is out here doing it practically for free.

“Classes were okay, my sorority had a little fundraiser at lunch, we baked cupcakes.”

“They were good cupcakes.”

“Wait…” your stomach churns a little. “You stopped by?”

“I’m a sucker for cupcakes, and how cute your butt looks in blue jeans.”

You search your memory, counting how many NCT boys came through around lunch. You realize that there were far too many for it to do any good in deciphering which one is the man you’re currently talking to.

“Did we talk?”

“You talked to everyone who bought something. I’m not special.”

Except… he kind of is special, in a way you can’t truly explain… not yet anyways.

“Maybe you are a stalker,” you decide.

“I can promise you I’m not, but I bet you’d be kind of into it if I was.”

This guy makes you feel such conflicting emotions, you’re not sure how to even handle him.

“Look, I was studying when you called-”

“Right, you should get back to that.”

“I should.”

“Sleep tight, Tiny. It’s been nice talking to you.”

Part of you wants to return the sentiment, it feels second nature, but the words stop on your tongue. In all fairness, it hasn’t been particularly nice talking to the mystery Ghost Face guy.

Instead of saying anything else, you simply hit him with a “Bye,” and you hang up the phone.

However, you don’t get back to studying, you immediately call Mark.

He sounds groggy as he says “Hello?”

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“I just got a call from that guy again. He’s definitely one of your frat brothers, and he’s high right now.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down,” Mark sighs. “We sort of uh… all got high at the fire after dinner.”

“Mark Lee!” you screech.

“Sorry, sorry!” Mark groans. “I’ll uh… ask around some more. We’ll figure out who this dude is.”

“And if we don’t… he said he’d tell me who he is at your frat Halloween bash at the end of the week.”

It’s Monday now, and the party is on Saturday. That means you’ll only have to wait a few days… you can hold out for a few days… can’t you?

Tuesday

You read over the email a third time, but it doesn’t make anything better. The words ‘We regret to inform you that you have not been chosen for the position’ make your eyes begin to well with tears.

Quickly exiting your phone, you grab your things. You refuse to cry in the middle of the library-

The bathroom will have to do the trick, and you hurry to get there, holding back the choked sob that longs to slip out of you.

You’d thought for sure this interview would land you a job on campus. The interview had gone well, or so you’d thought.

You don’t even know why you’re getting so upset about this.

There’s just something so devastating about rejection.

You get to the bathroom quickly, shutting yourself into a stall before you allow the tears to fall again. You cradle your face in your hands, allowing the sadness to overwhelm you.

It’s important to have a good cry every now and again, and you definitely need this.

Your cries, however, are interrupted by your phone ringing in your pocket. Wiping at your face, you reach for the device, lifting it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Are you okay?”

“I really don’t have time for this right now, Ghost-” you groan, closing your eyes at the familiar voice-modulated sound.

“You do have time,” he insists. “Tell me what happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just saw you running through the library. Looked like you were crying.”

“I wasn’t crying!” you nearly yell.

“Liar. Come on, Tiny, let Ghostie make you feel better.”

The affectionate-sounding nickname prompts you to wipe your eyes. “Are you sure you’re not a stalker?”

“I was in the library, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“Was?”

“I’m gone now, can’t have you figuring out who I am before Halloween.”

“Would it really be so bad if I did?” you question. “It would make me feel better.”

“Look at you, using your bad experience to try to swindle me,” you hear him laugh, and there are more sounds now, as if he’s walking across campus. “Seriously, Tiny, tell me what’s going on.”

“Do you always walk around campus with a voice modulator?”

“It’s an app on my phone babe, now answer my question.”

“You didn’t ask a question, you commanded me to tell you what happened, and I’m not taking commands right now.”

He sighs. “Will you please tell me what’s making you cry?”

Your lower lip trembles. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing that hurts you is stupid.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“It looked like you needed a friend.”

“You’re not my friend. You’re some guy who got my number and gets hard by pretending to be Ghost Face from Scream.”

“I could be your friend. Could be more than your friend. And I’m not hard right now. Not after seeing you cry.”

You take a breath. “I applied for a job and I uh… they didn’t hire me.”

“Then they’re stupid.”

“Maybe I’m stupid.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m a girl who’s spent three days talking to a guy who keeps his identity a secret, and for some crazy reason, you’re actually making me feel better. That definitely makes me stupid.”

“No, it makes you soft. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

“Yeah?” you sniffle. “What else? And don’t say my ass in blue jeans.”

The man chuckles. “You’re soft, and kind. But you’re a fighter too. You’ve got a spark. Don’t even get me started on how smart you are-”

“And how would you know how smart I am?”

“For starters, you’re in the top-scoring sorority on campus,” he points out. “Whenever you come to trivia night, you wipe the floor with all of us. Mark talks constantly about how much you help him with his classes, which brings me to my next point, you care about charity. That’s a great sign of your character.”

“You do know a lot about me, don’t you, Ghostie?” His words have stopped your tears, and you cradle your phone close to your ear.

“Still not a stalker though.”

Now he even has you laughing. “Jury’s still out on that one.”

“You sound better already,” he muses. “Mark has a free block right now, I’m sure if you call him he’d take you for ice cream or something to distract you.”

“That’s a good idea,” you admit.

“I’m full of good ideas.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, Tiny.”

Tuesday pt 2

“This guy sounds like a full-on stalker,” Mark says for the sixth time as you grab ice cream and sit inside while a storm passes, rain splattering the windows.

“I mean, if he knew your schedule, I’m guessing he’s someone close to you.”

“He’s stalking us both, I don’t like it.”

“But he’s nice.”

“He’s stalking you, Tiny!”

“He’s not!” you insist. “A lot of people were at the library today… honestly, I think… I think Ghostie is kind of sweet.”

“Ghostie?!” Mark stares at you in shock. “You’re calling him Ghostie now?”

“It’s cute, right?”

“It’s crazy is what it is!” Mark leans back in his seat, frowning. “This is giving me the creeps.”

“Well, it’s spooky season.”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t think any of my frat brothers would pull crazy shit like this. They’re mostly pretty chill dudes.”

“So you think he’s lying about being in NCT?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.

“I think he’s definitely lying,” Mark confirms.

“Well, agree to disagree.”

Mark studies you for a moment. “Look, the only guy who’s a freak like this is Yuta and he swore up and down to me yesterday that he’s not calling you with a fucking voice modulator.”

“I don’t think this is Yuta.”

“Because you’re a Ghostie expert now, huh?” He scoffs loudly.

“Yuta’s not really a stoner,” you point out. “And besides, I can’t explain why I know it’s not him, I just have a feeling.”

“Yeah, is that feeling in your pussy by any chance?”

“Mark Lee!” you gasp, scandalized by his choice of words.

“Be real with me!” he insists. “You wouldn’t be entertaining this if it wasn’t… I don’t know, turning you on? Are you turned on by stalkers? Is this why you like Halloween so much?”

“Okay, maybe I am turned on, but that doesn’t make me a bad person.”

“It just makes you crazy,” Mark groans, running a hand through his hair. “I swear to God, when the dude reveals himself at the frat party, it better be one of my frat brothers and not a serial killer. And also, I’m going to fight him.”

“Something tells me he’d beat you,” you giggle.

“Now you’re trying to make me feel bad.”

“Says the guy who just called me crazy.” You grin, knowing that you’ve won.

“This whole thing is crazy.”

He has a point about that.

Wednesday

You’ve been waiting all day for a call from Ghostie, and it comes right before you’re about to head to bed. You practically launch yourself at your phone, putting it on speaker and saying “Hello?” as if you don’t know who’s on the other end of the line.

“Hey you, feeling better today?”

“You tell me, mister stalker.”

“I haven’t actually seen you today, it was a bit of a shame if I’m being honest.”

“Yeah?” God, this man has way too much power over you. “And why’s that, Ghostie?”

“Because I’ve been looking at your Instagram, but you’re cuter in person.”

“Do you follow me?”

“We’re mutuals.”

You’re mutuals with pretty much the entire NCT frat, it would have been more helpful if he’d said he’s not a follower, although, now that you think of it, that had always been unlikely.

“Still trying to figure out who I am, aren’t you, Tiny?”

“Of course.”

“Remember when I was listing your good qualities? Patience wasn’t one of them.”

“That’s so rude of you,” you say, although, you’re grinning at your phone.

“Here, I’ll make it better. I have an idea for you.”

“Let’s hear it then.” You get comfortable on your bed, wondering what he’s about to say.

“If you want a job, there’s this bar on campus, Skeets. Have you heard of it?”

“Who hasn’t heard of Skeets?” You roll your eyes.

“They let just about anyone work there. A few of the NCT guys are bartenders, I’m sure they’d put a good word in for you with the hiring manager, he’s also a member of the frat.”

You haven’t been to Skeets in ages, and you try to remember who you know amongst the staff. “Wait, you’re right- doesn’t Hyuck work there?”

“He does… This is the second time you’ve mentioned him, got something of a crush, Tiny?”

“Would that make you jealous?” you tease.

“I’m not the jealous type,” he states. “But yeah… it would.”

“Don’t get your Ghost Face mask in a knot, I don’t have a crush on Hyuck. In fact, if you turn out to be Hyuck and I find out you lied to me about your identity, I’m going to be really mad.”

“I’m not Hyuck.”

“Good.” You consider his proposition for a moment. “Do you really think they’d hire me?”

“It doesn’t hurt to try.”

“You know, on Sunday, if someone had told me you’d be helping me find a job not three days later, I would have said they were crazy.”

“Guess I like to keep you on your toes.”

“I think you just have a major soft spot for me. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I can’t. I promised not to lie to you.”

God, he makes you so giddy it’s insane.

“Are you going to come stalk me at Skeets if they give me a job?”

“Goodnight, Tiny.” He’s avoiding the question, and you can hear him grinning through the phone.

“Night, Ghostie.”

It’s the first time he’s the one to hang up on you, and it leaves you wanting more.

Thursday

Ghostie had assured you that Skeets hires just about anyone, but that doesn’t help the anxiety building inside of you as you prepare to take your resume into the bar.

You even do a Wonderwoman pose outside while waiting for Skeets to open, breathing deeply to psych yourself up while you go over possible interview questions just in case the hiring manager wants a chit-chat today.

“I love working in a team environment,” you say quietly to yourself, closing your eyes and running through responses. “The most important thing is that the guests feel welcome.”

The sound of something dragging across the cement ground has you practically jumping, lids flashing open as your head whips toward the noise.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your mantra,” the tall fratboy laughs, setting up the wooden sign with the daily drink menu just in front of the door to the bar.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, swallowing thickly.

The man in front of you is Johnny Suh. He’s two years older than you, and you know him through Mark. When guys join a frat, they’re assigned a ‘Big,’ an elder frat brother to guide them through the process. Johnny is Mark’s big, and he’s always been nice to you whenever you’ve crossed paths.

You would call Johnny an acquaintance, not a friend, but he’s still a friendlier face than you may have expected to see upon your first moments interacting with Skeets staff.

“You coming inside, Tiny?” Johnny asks.

“Yeah, sorry John, one sec, I just need another deep breath.” You wave your hand at him, turning your back and gulping down air while you hold your bag tight to your front, the resume within practically burning a hole in the leather.

The hot fratboy heads back inside and you finish calming yourself down.

You can do this. You can get this job.

As you enter the bar that’s just open, you realize there are only a few staff members kicking around so far. Kim Jungwoo is rearranging chairs, and Lee Donghyuck is sitting on a table looking at his phone. Johnny Suh is behind the bar, and you decide you should probably talk to him, so you try to act confident as you walk through the small establishment.

Johnny’s brown eyes raise as you approach, and he offers you a small smile. “Tough day?”

“What?” You blink at him, settling against the bartop.

“You looked kind of off outside, and most people don’t come in to day-drink this early.”

“Oh, uh… I’m not here to day-drink.” You let out a tiny laugh. “Actually, I came to see if you guys were looking to hire new staff members, I brought my resume.”

You reach into your bag to pull out the papers, and you hand them over to Johnny.

His eyes scan the first sheet. “Wow, a cover letter, I’ve actually never seen one of these.”

People don’t apply with cover letters? The idea is kind of shocking to you.

Johnny hardly looks at your resume, setting it down in front of him to address you instead. “What makes you want to work at Skeets?”

“In all honesty, I need a job. I’m dependable, and I’ve got a decent schedule to work in the food service industry. I like working as part of a team, and I’m already friends with a lot of the staff here, so I thought it might be a good fit.”

Johnny nods, assessing you. “Have you bartended before?”

“I’ve got my qualifications to serve alcohol, but I’ve mostly had waitressing jobs,” you admit.

“At Skeets, we all do a bit of everything. Would you be open to learning how to mix drinks?”

“I’d be very open to it,” you nod.

“Then let’s give it a shot,” Johnny smiles warmly at you. “You’ve got good timing, we actually just had to let go of someone for excessive drinking on the job. I was going to put a wanted ad up today, but looks like that won’t be necessary.”

“Are you…” you swallow thickly, “are you serious? I’m hired?”

“Yeah, why not?”

You can’t help the squeal of delight that rushes through you, and a massive grin makes its way onto your face. You even jump a little, and Johnny seems to enjoy your excitement, smiling from ear to ear while you celebrate.

“When can you start?” he asks next.

“I can start tomorrow! I mean, if you need me that soon.”

“Tomorrow is a big night here at Skeets, the Friday before Halloween. We could use the hands, but it will be a busy one, do you think you can handle that?”

You’re quick to nod. “Of course. But I uh… I should let you know, I can’t work Halloween, I promised a friend I’d meet them at your frat for the party.”

“Don’t worry about Saturday,” Johnny assures you. “Sigma Veta Tau has their frat party tonight, so it’s all us NCT guys working, and tomorrow we’ll switch. As much as Seungcheol is a good comanager, I don’t trust him to teach you how to mix drinks on Halloween.”

“So… you’re going to be the main person training me then?” you ask.

“If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself,” he confirms.

You can’t help but beam up at the tall frat boy, overjoyed at this turn of events. As cute as Johnny is though, part of you is excited to tell Ghostie about this when he inevitably calls you tonight.

Your life is definitely a little crazy.

“So, how about you come in tomorrow at seven?” Johnny suggests. “The bar will be open past midnight, but I figure I can show you a few things before it gets busy around ten, and then I can let you go early.”

“I’ll be here at seven.”

“And when it comes to what you’re wearing, we’ll give you a Skeets t-shirt,” he pulls at the black fabric stretched tight across his broad chest. “Other than that, you can wear any color of jeans and some sneakers.”

“Perfect.”

“You’ll be paid for the training shift, I’ll tip you out in cash, and if it goes well, we’ll get your banking details at your next shift after that,” Johnny explains. “I’ve got your number here on your resume, so I’ll be in contact with you on Sunday, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds like a dream.” You literally can’t stop smiling.

“Tiny’s going to learn to mix,” Johnny says fondly, “Mark’s going to love this.”

You already feel close to Mark’s big, and the opportunity to work with him is a good one. Johnny is one of the more well-known nice guys at the frat. Sure, he’s got a little bit of a dangerous edge to him, just based on his massive stature alone, but he’s generally a big softy bear.

“Thanks again for this, Johnny,” you beam. “I won’t let you down.”

Thursday pt 2

“Hyuck said our favorite Tiny sorority princess got herself a job today.”

“Hello to you too, Ghostie.”

“I wanted to cut to the chase and congratulate you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten the job without you,” you admit. “So… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” your mystery man says, and you can hear that classic grin of his. “I’m sure you got it on your own merit.”

“Apparently no one’s ever brought a cover letter with their resume before.”

“They must have been impressed.”

“Hired me on the spot.”

“That’s my girl.”

Your insides flutter. You like the way it sounds when he calls you his girl. “How about your day, Ghostie? Stalk any new girls?”

He laughs. “Only one girl worth stalking, which, I don’t do, by the way.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“My day was long,” he says finally.

“Yeah, it’s nearly midnight, I was thinking about going to sleep but…”

“But you wanted me to call,” Ghostie finishes your sentence for you.

“When you say it like that it sounds kind of depressing.”

“It’s not depressing, Tiny, it’s cute.”

“Cute?”

“I like that you’re getting used to me.”

“You know… if you decided not to show up to the Halloween party- if you never called again, I think… I’d wonder who you are the rest of my life.” It’s a moment of vulnerability, and your heart races in your chest while you wait for his response.

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Tiny,” Ghostie promises. “I’ll find you on Saturday, and not in a stalker way.”

“What costume are you going to be wearing?”

“If I tell you, you’ll just show up and scour the whole place looking for me.”

“You know me too well, don’t you, Ghostie?”

“What are you going to wear, pretty girl?”

You literally kick your feet at the term of endearment, body buzzing. It takes a moment to collect yourself. “Honestly? I’ve got a Ghost Face mask hanging around somewhere.”

“And here I was being told I’m the one who gets hard pretending to be Ghost Face.”

“Well… even though I don’t know you, not really, I think I got that one pretty accurate, didn’t I?”

“Maybe a little.”

“I thought you said you were big,” you tease.

“Okay, maybe a lot.”

You bite at your lip. After the great day you’ve had, it’s difficult not to feel flirty. “Are you hard right now, big guy?”

He groans, and even under the voice modulator, something tells you the sounds he makes are sexy as fuck. You can feel your panties getting wet. It’s dirty, but in the best possible way.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you grin.

“You’re being bad, Tiny.”

“Says the guy who’s literally hard right now.”

The other end of the line is silent for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

“What if… when we meet, you’re not interested in me?”

Well, this has just taken a turn. How did you go from horny thoughts to insecurity?

It’s a valid question though, one you should have asked yourself by now, but for some reason you haven’t. You think about it for a few seconds.

“I feel like… I know it’s been less than a week of talking but, you’re not like any other guy I’ve ever met. And not just because you’re calling with a voice modulator.” You let out a laugh. “You ask how my day is, and you care to hear my answer. You even helped me get a job, which is crazy to think about. For some weird reason, I think when I meet you, the emotional connection is already kind of there, so no matter what you look like, you’ll be more attractive to me.”

“You really think so?”

“I mean, NCT is known for having hot guys, so I’m not sure who you could be that would turn me off. There are only a few NCT guys I’d say a hard no to at the moment.”

“Yeah? Who?”

“Well, Doyoung and I have never gotten along, but I know you’re not him because he doesn’t touch weed. I dated Jeno for about a week, and I know enough about him to know I don’t want to do anything with him ever again, and also, that you’re not Jeno because he’d never ask me how my day was going-”

“What an asshole.”

You laugh. “All things considered, Ghostie, I think you’ll do just fine.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Is this why you’ve been doing the whole voice modulator thing? You’re worried I won’t be interested in you?”

“It’s one of the reasons,” Ghostie admits. “I also worried that if I did hit on you, you might think I was only trying to get you into my bed, which, yeah, it would be nice, but… as perfect as your body is, it’s not the most interesting thing about you.”

What a scrumptious take; A guy calling you up and using anonymity to prove to you that this connection isn’t only about sex.

Your heart softens.

“Ghostie, you might be one of the sweetest guys I know,” you admit.

“More than your best friend Mark Lee?”

You laugh. “Maybe not, Mark would never do something like this. You’re a bit of a paradox that way, aren’t you?”

“If you say so, Tiny. As much as I’ve liked this talk, I think I should let you sleep. Halloween is two days away and I’m sure we’ve both got a lot to do before then.”

“What if I don’t want you to go just yet?”

“Then I’d remind you that patience is a virtue.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“Good thing we have an emotional connection so you’ll forgive me for it. Night, Tiny.”

“Night, Ghostie.”

Friday

Your first shift consists of shadowing Johnny. He’s a fabulous teacher. He’s calm, patient, and very encouraging. The first few hours are a breeze, but the bar gets increasingly packed as the night goes on.

It’s a little overwhelming, but Johnny helps keep you steady. He gives you the easy drink orders, things like beer and simple cocktails. While you’re filling a cup from the beer tap, he’s busy mixing five to ten different things into one glass for items on the Halloween special menu.

There’s something sexy about a diligent worker, and his beefy arms are all bulgy and hot in his tight Skeets shirt. You can tell that a lot of girls come up to the bar specifically to order from him. There are two other bartenders, but Johnny’s line is notably the longest.

You’ve had your own share of interested men pop over to say hi. There are very few frat boys here tonight, as there’s a party in full swing in the Greek village, so most of the guys coming up to grab a beer from you are people you don’t know.

Many of them are dressed up in costumes, and it’s interesting to try to guess some of the more obscure clothing choices.

Anytime you see a man in a ghost costume, your mind shifts to your mystery caller. You wonder if he’ll pop by tonight- but other than the men already working with you, no NCT boys walk through the front door.

No Ghostie.

There’s not one second of reprieve, but staff need breaks, and finally, just before midnight, Johnny pulls you both for a breather.

“Are you sure the others can keep up while we’re gone?” you ask, looking back at the swamped bartenders.

“They can manage,” he assures you, guiding you through the back staffroom to a door that leads to an alleyway behind the bar. “I know I’ve kept you on longer than I thought, but it’s just been so busy. How are you holding up?”

The cool night air is a drastic difference from the heat and humidity inside, and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes and enjoying it. “I’m doing alright,” you tell him. “You’re the one making the difficult drinks.”

“I’ve been mixing cocktails for years,” he brushes it off, reaching into his back pocket.

“Well, it shows.” You watch to see him pull out a rolled joint, and next comes a lighter.

“Want some?” he asks, lifting the joint to slot between his perfect lips.

“Are we allowed to smoke on the job?”

“Hyuck was prescribed Vyvanse last year, so he’s practically on coke all shift,” Johnny grins, lighting the end of the joint and taking a puff. “Besides,” he lets out a deep breath of smoke, “in the service industry, sometimes you need a little buffer.”

Skeets really is a chill place if the hiring manager smokes weed on breaks with subordinates.

“I didn’t realize you were a stoner,” you muse.

“Most of us frat boys are,” Johnny admits, pulling the joint from between his lips. It’s placed casually between two fingers, and his other hand ruffles through his pretty hair. “It’s a nice night.”

“It is,” you nod, looking up at the sky. Stars are twinkling in the dark

“I’m glad you joined the team, not sure we would have been doing so well without your extra set of hands.”

“I’m really grateful to have been given a trial shift,” you smile softly.

“Well, just so you know, it’s more than a trial shift. You’re hired.” He nudges your shoulder gently, and your grin only grows.

“Thank you.”

Johnny takes another drag from his joint. “Sure you don’t want a puff?”

“I really shouldn’t-”

“I’m going to let you go home pretty soon after this,” Johnny tells you. “So it won’t affect your performance that much.”

You wonder if this is a test, but… at the same time, you don’t think Johnny’s the type of guy to test you this way.

You give in, accepting the joint and bringing it to your lips. It’s been a while since you smoked one of these, and your first tiny hit leaves you coughing, passing the joint back to Johnny while you try to catch your breath.

He grins while watching you, and you get the sneaking suspicion that Johnny thinks you’re cute.

“Thank you,” you say, coughing again.

“You’ve got good manners, don’t ya, Tiny?”

You nod, wiping at the tears that have formed in your eyes from the smoke.

“Who... who do you usually smoke with?” you ask.

“Why? You a cop?” Johnny jokes.

“No, it’s just uh… God, I could tell you the whole story but you wouldn’t even believe me if I did,” you find yourself laughing. “Just… I didn’t know you smoked, so, I’m wondering if maybe there are a few other guys in your circle who do too.”

Johnny looks you up and down. “Like I said earlier, Tiny, almost all us frat boys partake in mari-ju-ana.”

It’s clear he’s not going to give you any information that could help you figure out who your Ghostie is. You suppose you really will just have to be patient.

In less than twenty-four hours, you’ll be finding out who your mystery caller is, and the suspense is absolutely killing you.

Friday pt 2

It’s twelve thirty when you finally get home, and you’re very tired. But at the same time, you’re awake. You take your time getting ready for bed, ignoring the loud party sounds outside and around the frat village while you wait for a call from Ghostie.

As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call.

He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend.

You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you.

Five minutes turn into ten, turn into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut.

You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.

You try to self-soothe by assuring yourself you’ll meet him tomorrow, but it doesn’t really help.

Tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, you fall into a blissless sleep.

Saturday

You’re groggy when you open your eyes, but you still go to check your phone. There’s a missed call notification from an unknown number at three am, and suddenly you’re wide awake, bolting up in bed.

“Hey, Tiny, it’s me.”

As if it could be anyone else.

“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to call you last night. I was pretty swamped with Halloween stuff. But if it makes you feel any better, you were definitely on my mind.”

Here you are kicking your feet again.

“Probably won’t get a chance to talk to you until the party, I really do hope you come… in uh… more ways than one.”

God, he makes you wet.

“I get it if you’re a little mad at me for not calling earlier, and I promise to make it up to you when I see you, if you’ll let me.”

He’s so oddly respectful.

“But I get it if you don’t want to do anything at the party. I’ve enjoyed talking with you this week, and if that’s all it’s going to be then I won’t hold it against you. Anyways, goodnight, see you soon.”

Saturday pt 2

You feel cute tonight. You’d taken your Ghost Face mask off almost as soon as entering the frat, but the little black dress you’re wearing is enough to capture a lot of attention.

Every frat boy that comes up to you makes your heart race, but none of them reveal themselves as your Ghostie.

You’re actually beginning to get a little frustrated, and after two hours of floating around hoping to find your mystery man, you head with Mark to his room for a break.

Mark’s roommate, Hyuck, is sitting on his bed, bong already out and resting on one thigh while scrolls through his phone. He looks up when you enter, smirking. “Finally, smoking buddies.”

“You texted me like two minutes ago to come up here,” Mark rolls his eyes. “Have some patience.”

“Not in my nature,” Hyuck insists, setting his phone down and reaching for his lighter. “First hit is mine.”

As if you expected anything less.

You watch him inhale the thick cloud of smoke, holding it for a moment in his lungs before he lets out a deep exhale. “Fucking hell, he groans, that was a good hit.”

Mark takes the bong and Hyuck falls flat against the bed, closing his eyes and smiling.

“So have you found your stalker yet, Tiny?” Hyuck asks.

Your gaze flashes to Mark. “You told him?”

“He was curious why I was asking for a stoner list,” Mark defends himself.

“Whoever the dude is, he’s got balls,” Hyuck says wistfully.

There’s a knock on the door, and Jaehyun pokes his head inside. “Heard we’re smoking?”

“Yeah, come in!” Hyuck waves his hand, still collapsed on his bed.

The door is pushed open wider, and you catch sight of Johnny standing behind Jaehyun. Your new hiring manager flashes you a wink as they enter, and the door is shut firmly behind them. Jaehyun goes to sit with Hyuck, but Johnny approaches you, taking the seat next to you on Mark’s bed.

“How’s your night going?” Johnny asks.

“She’s waiting for her stalker to come kidnap her and fuck her brains out,” Hyuck says loudly.

“Your stalker?” Johnny laughs.

“Some guy has been calling her all week,” Mark tries to explain.

“It sounds worse than it is,” you insist, feeling the need to defend Ghostie. “He’s only a little perverted.”

“And you’re into that sort of thing?” Jaehyun questions, cocking his head while Mark takes a puff from the bong and hands it over.

“Not usually,” you admit. “But… this guy is different.”

“You don’t even know what he looks like,” Mark groans, collapsing in his desk chair and running an anxious hand through his hair.

“That doesn’t matter,” you insist.

“Fucking girls, dude,” Hyuck laughs, sitting up and watching Jaehyun smoke from the bong. “You know what we need?”

“More weed?” Mark suggests.

“Yes, but also, shots.” Hyuck’s eyes shift to Johnny. “Not the shit from downstairs. The good stuff.”

Johnny lets out a chuckle. “You want something from my secret stash?”

“The tequila you brought back from Mexico,” Hyuck nods.

Jaehyun lets out a puff of smoke, holding the bong out for Johnny, who shakes his head.

“You’re not taking a hit?” Jaehyun asks, staring at Johnny in hazy shock.

“Not tonight,” Johnny responds. Then he turns to you. “If neither of us are taking a crack at the bong, how about you come help me grab the tequila?”

“Careful, John,” Hyuck teases, “She’s not interested in you, she only has eyes for this Ghostie dude.”

Mark shoves Hyuck’s knee and Johnny simply grins. “Come on Tiny, you don’t want to get secondhand high on a night like this.”

He’s right about that, and you stand with him, heading to the door. Johnny’s so tall and broad, and you try not to stare at his shoulders, but it’s extremely difficult not to appreciate his large form.

“What’s your costume?” you ask.

“Oh, this?” He pulls casually at his black tshirt. “I’m a serial killer, they look like everyone else.”

“Very original,” you laugh, falling into step with the tall fratboy as you make your way down the crowded hall.

“My room is on the top floor,” he tells you, heading to the stairwell and holding the door open for you. “I like your dress, by the way.”

“Thanks, it goes with this.” You hold up the Ghost Face mask to show it to him, and his grin widens while you climb the stairs.

“You’re gonna have to let me try that on.”

“I’m uh… I’m actually saving it for Ghostie to try,” you admit, feeling a little silly with how loyal you’re being to your mystery caller.

“He’s a lucky guy,” Johnny muses.

“Here’s to hoping it goes well,” you sigh.

Johnny doesn’t respond to your comment, and as you reach the top floor he guides you three rooms down, using a key to unlock the door before he holds it open for you. “After you, Tiny.”

The space is the same size as Hyuck and Mark’s, but it only has one bed. “I didn’t realize they had single rooms here,” you say, looking around.

“There’s only a few, and I’ve got seniority,” Johnny explains. He closes the door behind him, walking over to the large closet.

You take in the decorations. It’s unmistakably a frat boy's room, but much cleaner than you’re used to. There’s a gaming station, and a mini fridge that you’d guess is full of beer. A clothing rack shows off some of Johnny’s more sophisticated tastes.

You’re curious about what else he has in his stash, so you join him by the closet, peeking inside. “We’re looking for tequila right?”

God, he has a whole shelf full of expensive bottles of booze.

“Uh huh,” Johnny nods. “Should be in the back here somewhere.”

“Isn’t this tequila?” you ask, pointing to a bottle he’s brushed past.

“Close,” Johnny flashes a grin at you before continuing to rummage, “but no cigar.”

You freeze.

It’s been nearly a week since your first interaction with Ghostie, but you remember that interesting turn of phrase like it was yesterday.

But- it can’t be.

Johnny can’t be your mystery caller-

Can he?

“Found it,” Johnny announces, pulling an immaculate bottle of tequila out. His gaze lands on you. “You alright, Tiny? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I mean… have I?”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean?”

“You’re…” You swallow thickly. “Are you my Ghostie?”

Johnny meets your gaze with a steady look. “Does it upset you?”

It’s not a clear confirmation, but it’s a confirmation nonetheless.

You stare at him in absolute shock for a moment. He looks insanely gorgeous tonight, all broad, with his pretty lips- without even knowing what you’re doing, you find yourself throwing your arms around him and burying your face against his chest.

Johnny freezes, obviously startled by the sudden contact, but then he’s wrapping you in a tight embrace. One of his hands finds the back of your head, and he cradles you close.

Neither of you say anything, you simply hold each other while you come to terms with everything.

He’s so stupid for ever thinking you wouldn’t want him-

You do want him. You want him so bad-

Pulling away from his chest, you tilt your chip up, reaching for his face. You cup his cheek while you move on your tiptoes to press your lips against his.

He appears just as shocked at this movement as when you’d hugged him, but he eases into it all the same, kissing you back gently.

But you don’t want gentle, you want him.

You’re pent up from a week of teasing, and you shift in his embrace, wrapping both arms around the back of his neck while you glide your tongue against his lip.

Johnny lets out a groan, his mouth opening for you while his hands slip down to tug your waist closer.

The kiss deepens and now it’s your turn to release a moan, pressing your tits closer to his chest. He feels like heaven against you, and his lips are absolutely magic. His tongue glides gently against your own. You can taste beer, but it’s not unpleasant, in fact, it turns you on even more.

You thread your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails against his scalp-

“Fuck,” Johnny mutters against your mouth.

Then he’s bending down, hands grabbing at your ass and prompting you to jump. You wrap your legs around his hips and he carries you effortlessly, closing the distance to his bed.

Instead of tossing you down, he sits on the mattress and suddenly your knees are digging into his charcoal duvet. You’re on top, fingers in his hair, your tongue licking at his lip, and you’ve never felt so powerful.

It gives you the confidence to wiggle your hips a little, and you’re pleased to find he’s already growing hard in his jeans. God, he feels big- and your pussy throbs at the idea of what you’re going to do to him tonight.

You’re in a dress, and your panty-clad core feels delightful against bulging denim. Johnny’s grabbing at your bare thigh, kneading your flesh, and it makes you moan desperately. Not only is he skilled with his tongue, but his hands seem to know what they’re doing too.

Suddenly he’s grabbing at your hair, tugging you so you arch your head back, giving him access to your throat. His mouth feels amazing as he begins to lick and suck on your neck, finding your sweet spot way too easily-

“Who-” You swallow thickly. “Who gave you my number?”

Johnny laughs against your skin, pulling away to look up at you with dark eyes. “Mark did.”

“Mark?!” You’re in absolute shock now.

“Gave it to me during finals last year,” Johnny explains. “But… we both had busy summers and…” one of his hands sneaks down to guide your hips, helping you grind against him, “I guess I wasn’t sure how you felt about me.”

“You’re crazy!”

“Maybe a little,” he admits. “I’m also Mark’s big, and it’s not like you and I have ever been close.”

“But you’ve liked me for a while, haven’t you, Ghostie?”

He groans at the nickname, looking up at you with eyes full of wonder. “Longer than you know.”

You wish you could say you’ve felt the same- but in all honesty, you have always seen him as Mark’s big. As an older fratboy dad type-

The way he’s acted with you this week has inklings of that protective daddy personality you know and enjoy, but… he’s not been particularly dad-like. He’s shown you a new side of himself, and you’re so fucking happy he did.

“You know, when Mark finds out you’re my stalker he’s going to flip.”

“I wasn’t stalking you,” Johnny insists, grinning up at you as he applies more pressure to your hips, making you grind against him harder.

“God, you even hired me for a job-”

He laughs. “It wasn’t favoritism, you had a cover letter, the bar owner was even impressed.”

“You’re so bad- this whole time you’ve been mind fucking me. I would have never guessed my Ghostie worked at Skeets.”

“Well, I do have a minor in psychology,” he admits. “Figured the best place to hide is in plain sight.”

“You even smoked a joint in front of me and I never guessed-”

“Yeah, I was playing with fire with that one,” Johnny laughs.

“It’s funny. I was so busy thinking about being loyal to Ghostie that I was trying not to check you out last night.”

“And I’m so lucky to have you. You wouldn’t even let me put on your Ghost Face mask, so busy saving it for Ghostie.”

“Saving myself too,” you note, grinning down at him.

“Yeah?”

“We’ve talked every night since Sunday- I haven’t cum in over a week.”

“Fuck, Tiny,” Johnny groans. “I guess I better help you out then.”

“Really? How are you going to do that?”

“I’ll let you stay on top for a while, let you grind against me until you’re begging for me to tear your dress off.” He pulls at the strap on your shoulder. “Then, I’ll flip you over, get on my knees, and eat you out like the good girl you are, stretching you open with my fingers.”

“And then?”

“When you’re shaking and delirious from cumming, I’ll fuck you right. Bet you’ve never really been fucked right before.”

God, you definitely haven’t. At least- you know you’ve never been fucked the way Johnny is about to fuck you.

“What if I already want you to tear my dress off?” you ask, grinding down against his cock.

Johnny lets out a low groan, grinning at you. “Tiny, you’re nowhere near begging yet.”

“I’m not?” You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his throat before your teeth drag against his earlobe. “Please, Ghostie, I’m already so fucking wet, you wouldn’t believe it-”

He laughs, hand finding your hair again. He tugs you away from his neck, pressing his lips to your own and kissing you hard.

He takes your breath away. His tongue is perfect, licking and tasting- making you moan loudly while you work your hips, swiveling on his denim-covered cock.

“Fuck, Ghostie, you’re so fucking big-”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he promises, grabbing a fistful of your ass and squeezing so hard it almost hurts. But the pain is wonderful, and you cry out in ecstasy, working yourself harder against him.

If it wasn’t for his enticing cock, you think you could make out with him like this forever.

You just want to be naked, so you grab at your dress, intent on lifting it off-

Johnny stops you. “I’ve told you patience is a virtue, haven’t I, Tiny?”

You groan in annoyance. “John, please-”

“Ghostie,” he corrects you.

You don’t even care- you simply grab his hand, guiding it between your legs. His fingertips brush over your soaked panties, and you gasp at the feeling of him, immediately grinding down, looking for relief.

“Fuck-” you moan, closing your eyes and throwing your head back.

He begins to circle your clit through your thong and you’re forced to grab at his shoulder to steady yourself, whimpering loudly.

“Shit, Tiny, you’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers.

“I need you,” you gasp, feeling an orgasm already bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “Please, move my panties to the side-”

Johnny doesn’t question you this time. He pulls your thong away, easily burying two large fingers into your wet, needy core.

Now you’re really gasping. You lean forward, wrapping both arms around his strong shoulders and burying your face against his throat. “Oh my God, Ghostie- don’t stop-”

“You’re going to cum from this, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

You nod desperately, swiveling your hips so your clit can rub against the palm of his hand while his fingers work you open.

“So good,” you whimper. “So fucking good-”

Johnny groans, curving his fingers and stroking your gspot.

You squeal in his lap, thigh muscles clenching while your pussy begins to throb around the foreign intrusions. You’re so close to the edge you can almost taste it.

“Want you to cum for me. Wanna hear your sounds while you drip down my hand.”

Fuck, he’s way too sexy, voice all low and seductive. He’s breathing hard, and you can tell you’re turning him on just from riding his fingers-

“Come on, Tiny, who’s my good girl?”

“I am-” you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you straight on.

You moan loudly, burying your face against Johnny’s neck. You’re panting against his skin, wiggling your hips while his fingers continue inside of you, driving you absolutely insane. Waves of pleasure are overtaking your form, and your mind is completely blank, overwhelmed by the feeling of ecstasy that Johnny provides for you.

“That’s it,” Johnny encourages you. “So fucking good for me.”

You’re shaking on his lap by the time your high is over, and you press wet kisses to his throat, earning groans from your Ghostie.

You reach down for your dress, lifting it up and off your body. Johnny pulls back, watching you with dark eyes. He takes his fingers out of your wet pussy, bringing them to his lips to clean. But he’s not done there, as you toss the fabric to the floor, Johnny offers you his digits next.

You lock eyes with him for a moment before leaning forward and accepting, taking his wet fingers into your mouth and helping suck them clean. You groa at the taste of yourself. Johnny watches the motion, his free hand finding your hip and forcing you to grind down against his cock.

“You’re so hot, Tiny,” he says, removing his fingers from your lips.

“Wait till you see me naked,” you grin, reaching behind yourself to undo your bra.

It falls away easily, and Johnny’s large hands cup your breasts almost immediately. His head dips, eyes taking in your newly exposed skin. “Fuck, how does a girl get this perfect?”

“How does a guy get a massive cock like yours?” you counter, rubbing yourself against the front of his jeans.

“Touche,” he chuckles, leaning down to lick your nipple.

You thread your fingers through his hair, guiding him to show more affection to your chest, which he’s more than happy to do. His large hand cups your right breast while he worships your other with his mouth, suckling on your nipple. His teeth drag gently against the sensitive bud and you moan loudly, rocking your hips all the while.

“As much as I’d love to keep sucking on your tits,” Johnny sighs, lips moving up your throat again, “I’d rather be between your legs.”

“Ghostie, do whatever you want to me,” you instruct, feeling delightfully submissive.

“You got it, Tiny.”

In one easy motion, he flips you so your back is on the bed. Johnny pulls away from you, sinking to his knees at the edge of the mattress before grabbing you and tugging you closer. He tears his own shirt off, giving you a great view of muscles that make you even wetter. Then he grabs your panties, sliding them down your legs so you’re completely bare for him now.

Johnny doesn’t say anything, he simply licks his lips and dives into you. His tongue parts your folds, dipping inside to taste your walls while your legs shake around his head. “Fuck, Ghostie-”

You reach down to grab his hair, applying enough pressure to his head to let him know you’re enjoying what he’s doing… if he can’t already tell from your desperately needy moans.

His lips move to suction on your clit and a squeal escapes you, your back arching slightly at the sensation.

You’re sensitive from having cum already, sensitive from having not cum all week only to be getting this much attention now. But you’re also probably sensitive because this is Johnny, because there’s been a build-up that’s left you ready to pop, and he seems intent on making you pop multiple times for him.

“Oh my God,” you whimper, eyes closed, abdominal muscles tensing with effort as his skilled tongue works you up again.

Johnny groans against your pussy and it’s one of the sexiest things that’s ever happened to you. Your grip on his hair tightens, your core throbbing with pleasure already.

When he adds two fingers into your dripping hole, you know you’re not going to last, but you don’t think he wants you to.

In fact, you’d bet that Johnny himself is just about ready to explode. You can’t believe he doesn’t have his cock out yet- can’t believe he’s so intent on making you cum twice before getting any satisfaction for himself.

“Fuck, Ghostie-” You want to tell him how close you are to cumming, but you can hardly get the words out between your moans. “I’m- holy shit-”

Johnny finger fucks you even harder, his mouth focusing on your clit, and you’re pretty sure he’s understood your garbled attempt to warn him, pretty sure he wants you to cum.

You allow yourself to find your release, your back arching again as you tug on Johnny’s hair, keeping his face between your legs. You grind down slightly, your body chasing your orgasm as it surges through you like fire in your veins.

Johnny lets out a low groan again, and your entire body twitches at the extra stimulation. You’re gasping now. Nothing has ever felt this good-

To his credit, Johnny tries to help you through your entire orgasm, but he pulls away before you’re truly finished. You can feel him panting against your pussy, and when you open your eyes to look down at him, you find Johnny staring at you with the horniest expression you’ve ever seen on a man.

“Ghostie-” you whimper, shifting against his duvet.

“Condoms,” he says, pulling his fingers out of your core and standing up.

“I’m on birth control,” you tell him quickly, making him freeze. “And if we’re both clean-”

Johnny practically moans at the idea, looking down at your body. “Does my Tiny want to be filled up all nice and good?”

Now it’s your turn to groan, and you nod, licking your lips. You sit up next, feeling your skin heat at the words you want to say, “I also… I wanna suck you off first.”

Johnny approaches the bed again, towering over you. It’s hard to focus on his eyes when his abs and strong biceps and veiny forearms are drawing your attention, but when he cups your jaw it makes things easier. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You pretty much stalked me for a week,” you tease, grinning.

Your Ghostie lets out a laugh. He doesn’t bother to check you on the word ‘stalking’ this time, even though he’s always been adamant that’s not what he was up to. It’s nice to have this little win, and as a reward for him biting his tongue, you reach out to undo his belt.

As the buckle unclasps and you move to his zipper, there’s a loud banging on the door.

Johnny looks over his shoulder and you can hear Hyuck screaming “Tequila!”

The frat boy in front of you lifts his finger to his lips, a shushing motion, and then he reaches into his back pocket for his phone. You bet he’s going to text Hyuck some lie about not being in the room, but you’re too horny to slow down.

You get his jeans undone and you bundle your hands up in all the fabric, roughly tugging them down.

Johnny lets out a groan when his large cock slaps up against his abdomen, and he moves his phone to the side to give himself a better view, holding it with one hand while raising a brow at you.

You’re on your knees at the foot of the bed now while Johnny stands there, and you steady yourself, grabbing the base of his cock. With one last wink at Ghostie, you lean forward, kitten licking his length from balls to tip.

The man above you quickly types in the text, then tosses his phone to the side, his large hand coming down to cup your cheek. You take this as a sign to accept him into your mouth, so you do exactly that.

He’s so large and thick- you haven’t sucked cock in a while, and you’ve never sucked a cock as big as his. You know you can take your time, Johnny’s always been patient with you.

You start by paying attention to the head, swirling your tongue around him and getting used to his size. Your eyes close, mind focused completely on your task. You’re already drooling from this, and you can feel your saliva dripping down his shaft. You smooth your thumb along the new trail of spit, helping lube your hand so you can begin to pump his cock.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, tightening his grip in your hair.

You try to sink your mouth further onto his cock, but it’s difficult. He’s just so huge-

Your pussy throbs knowing that soon, this monster dick is going to be inside of you-

Without any lube that you’ve seen so far, you want to make him as slicked up as possible, and it helps that you’re drooling from how sexy all of this is.

His cock hits the back of your throat and you gag slightly, powering through the uncomfortable feeling as you glide your tongue along his shaft. You’re not a quitter.

“Holy fuck, Tiny-” Johnny praises you. “You don’t have to try to take more than you can handle-”

But you want to. You want to pleasure him the way he’s pleasured you, and his words only prompt you to suck harder, earning more groans from the man above you.

“You’re so good at this,” he continues his words of encouragement, and they do help you take him deeper. His voice is smooth, sexy, and thankfully not modulated in any way.

You’ve never realized how nice John’s voice really is.

You apply more pressure with your hand, pumping him faster-

“Okay, okay-” Johnny tugs gently on your hair, prompting you to pull off of his cock and blink up at him in confusion. “I have to fuck you now. I’m done waiting.”

You let out a tiny mewl, nodding.

Johnny kicks off his jeans completely, pressing a knee onto the bed. He leans down to kiss you, and then he’s grabbing your body. In one easy motion, he tosses you a few feet up the mattress, so your head can land against the pillows.

God, he makes you feel truly Tiny- it’s one of the sexiest things ever.

He takes his place between your legs next, lips finding yours. One of his hands cups your cheek, and the kiss deepens, his tongue invading your mouth while your arms wrap around his strong shoulders.

You can feel his cock sliding between your pussy lips, and it’s almost embarrassing how wet you are, how much drool you’ve left on him.

“Please-” you whimper. You can’t wait another moment either, you have to know what he feels like. You reach your hand between your bodies, grabbing his cock so you can line him up with you properly. “Ghostie, I can’t-”

He kisses you, cutting you off. Something tells you Johnny understands, and the moment you have him properly situated, he begins to push into you.

You gasp against his lips, letting go of his cock so you can grab his shoulders. He’d worked you open with his fingers two times over, but nothing compares to this. You can feel your walls stretching to accommodate his impressive girth, and it leaves you practically brain-dead.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” Johnny tells you, lips moving to your throat so he can suck on your sweet spot while he continues to burry into your hot, wet core.

You wrap your legs tightly around his hips, closing your eyes while the feeling of him overtakes you. You’ve never moaned like this before, never felt anything like Johnny-

He groans loudly against your skin, gently thrusting, coating his cock in your juices to make things easier-

The moment his hips hit flush to yours, his full cock buried inside of you, you both gasp. Johnny grabs at your hands, interlocking your fingers and pinning them to the pillows on either side of your head.

“Fuck, you’re so big, you’re so-” You can’t even think, especially not when he takes another test thrust.

His cock drags against your inner walls and you cry out, body tingling.

“You take me so well, Tiny,” he praises you, mouth still hot on your throat. “The perfect fit.”

You can’t speak, not now, but you can squeeze his hands and tilt your head to the side, kissing his cheek. Johnny takes the cue to bring his lips back to yours, and you’re immediately lost in yet another breathtaking makeout session.

He’s moving slow, fucking into you at a gentle pace, allowing your body to get used to his massive size.

But you’re feeling particularly desperate, and greedy. “More.”

“More?” He laughs. “You sure about that?”

You nod, eager to be decimated by him. “Please, ruin me-”

Johnny groans, letting go of one of your hands so he can press his palm flat to the bed, giving himself more leverage. He begins to fuck you faster, and each meeting of his cock to your core has you whimpering like a whore in heat.

“You make the cutest fucking sounds,” Johnny breathes.

Only he - with his cock making you feral - would call your noises of pleasure cute.

He’s so stupidly endearing.

“Fuck, Tiny, you’re dripping- making this too fucking easy for me.”

It’s absolutely embarrassing how wet you are. He’s gliding into you with no issues now, and each movement is like heaven. The head of his cock hits a spot deep in your stomach- you can’t help but reach down, pressing your palm to your abdomen-

You can feel him rearranging your guts, and you both groan when you apply a bit of pressure.

“Deep, huh?” Johnny lets out a moaned chuckle.

“So deep-” you agree, words slightly garbled.

“I’ve just started with you and you can hardly speak,” Johnny muses. “Wonder what’s gonna happen when I make you cum again.”

You cry out desperately, removing your hand from your stomach so you can claw at his hair, bringing his lips back to your own.

You’re tired of thinking- all you want to do is experience this, experience him, at your fullest- and boy, are you fucking full.

Johnny lets go of your other hand, reaching for your thigh. He adjusts it higher on his hip and suddenly he’s driving into you even deeper.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you gasp loudly against his lips. Johnny traces his tongue along your teeth, and you can feel him smirking.

You love that he’s enjoying this- enjoying watching you come completely undone for him.

“You know,” he says, “if you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not going to last long.”

You don’t even care. You know this isn’t the only time you’ll be fucking this man- and after cumming twice already, your body is near its limit of pleasure, if that’s even possible. In fact, there’s something very sexy about making a man cum quicker than he’s used to, and your pussy clenches at the thought.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans again. “Can I flip you over?”

At this point, you’ll agree to any request, and you nod quickly, biting at your lip.

With one last kiss, Johnny pulls away from you. His cock slips out of your core and you whine at the loss, only for his two large hands to grab your waist and manually turn you onto your stomach. Then he adjusts your hips, pulling you up into doggy position.

“If you need to scream, use the pillows,” Johnny warns you, lining up with your pussy again.

The first thrust has you doing exactly that. You bury your face into the pillow, letting out a loud cry as his cock hits deeper than before.

This position might just kill you, but you don’t care.

His hands feel so good- so large and warm and steady on your hips as he finds an even rougher pace.

You can hear your ass smacking loudly against his front with each thrust and it only adds to your arousal.

Bunching your hands up in his duvet, you do your best not to be so loud that the whole frat will hear you. But it’s so difficult not to just melt under him-

You can feel your eyes welling with pleasure-fueled tears, and it drives you crazy.

“Fuck, you like this position, don’t you, pretty girl?”

“Yes, Ghostie!” you gasp, nodding while his cock continues to make you feel like absolute heaven.

“You look fucking perfect like this,” he tells you. “Face down, ass up. Pretty soon you’ll be begging for me to fill you up even more.”

His words flip a switch inside of you. “God, yes, please-” you cry out. “I want it so bad-”

“Want what?”

“Want your cum,” you whimper. “Wanna be so full-”

Johnny groans, grabbing rough fistfuls of your ass while he fucks you even harder.

“I need it, Ghostie, I need it-” You’re crying now, and Johnny notices.

He bends over your back, bracing an arm across your chest so he can lift you onto your knees. He cups your jaw, thumb stroking through a tear track. “Holy shit, Tiny,” he moans, mouth hot against your shoulder.

“Please, Ghostie, please-” you whimper, lower lip trembling-

You’re so close-

Johnny lets go of your jaw, and his hand slips down your front. You jolt when his fingers make contact with your clit, wriggling in his grasp.

“I’m almost there, Tiny,” he admits. “Watching you cum will tip me over the edge- you’ll be good and cum for me, right?”

All you can do is nod. Words are gone. Your mind is blank except for the pleasure that’s coursing through you.

Your noises are getting pitchier, and Johnny works you all the way to your peak. You gasp loudly as you topple over the edge, core clamping down hard on his cock.

Your legs feel like jelly, and Johnny releases you, allowing you to fall to the bed while your orgasm ravages your form. You’re clawing at the sheets, burying your face in his bed to muffle your screams-

His hands are bruising on your hips, and you hear him let out a loud groan. You can feel him filling you up, his motions faltering ever so slightly. His breath is hot against your shoulders and it’s added stimulus that makes you twitch, so completely overwhelmed that it almost feels like you’re about to black out.

But you don’t want to miss a second of this. His groans of pleasure keep you in the moment even as your mind is in a sex daze.

Johnny rides you through your high, thrusts slowing until he comes to a stop behind you.

You’re both breathing heavily now, and Johnny stays still for a moment, enjoying the last of your orgasm aftershocks. Then he flattens his chest to your back, hand falling to the bed next to your own.

“Holy shit,” he breathes.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh, and it makes Johnny groan as your core clenches again.

He kisses your shoulder, lips oddly tender in comparison to the way he just blew your back out.

“Ghostie-” you whimper, wanting to collapse on his bed from exhaustion.

“Stay still, I’ll get something to clean you up,” he assures you, pressing one last kiss to your skin before straightening from your back.

You miss his warmth as soon as he’s gone, and you especially miss his cock when it slides out of you.

You feel him get off the bed, and a moment later, something begins to drip down your inner thighs. He really filled you up, and it makes you twitch. You reach a hand between your legs, cupping your core and rolling onto your back on his bed, trying to breathe properly.

Johnny is back a second later, and you can feel his gaze on you.

“Spread these thighs for me, Tiny,” he says gently, touching your knee.

You open your eyes, and then you open your legs.

Johnny moves your hand out of the way, letting out a groan. “You have no idea how fucking hot this is-” he tells you, wiping your core clean of his cum.

You still don’t have it within yourself to speak, you can only watch him toss the tissue in the garbage before you’re making grabby hands at him.

Johnny laughs. He sits on the bed next to you, leaning against the headboard before scooping you into his lap. He’s so fucking big, and he makes you feel safe cuddled in his arms, your cheek pressed to his chest.

His heart is still racing, and it makes you feel better to know you’re not the only one who’s so affected by this.

Johnny’s fingers begin to thread through your hair, and he simply holds you while you come out of subspace.

The party is still in full swing outside, and it’s an interesting feeling to have such a private moment with Johnny in the middle of a frat on Halloween.

“Do you think anyone heard us?” you ask finally.

Johnny laughs. “Don’t worry about it,” he says soothingly.

You pull away from his chest, looking up at him. His hand moves to cup your face and you press your lips to his. It’s a much gentler kiss than he’d given you mid-fuck, and it eases your racing heart.

“Ghostie?”

“Yeah, Tiny?”

“I like you a lot.”

He lets out another chuckle. “I like you too.”

“We’ll do this again sometime, right?”

“Of course, Tiny.” His hand smooths up and down your back. “I’d also like to take you on dates, if you’ll let me.”

“I’d like that,” you nod, relaxing against his chest again. “And… and when you call me, no more voice modulator.”

“No?”

“I like your voice, your real voice.” God, you’re feeling so soft and mushy for him.

“I like your voice too.” For a second, it’s a sweet moment, and then Johnny continues, “Liked listening to your whimpers.”

He’s such a frat boy, but you kind of love him for it. “Did you like my tears too?”

“Only if they’re for a good reason,” Johnny says. “If anyone else ever makes you cry, I’ll have to fuck them up.”

“My protective Ghostie,” you grin, leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw.

“As much as I’d love to stay cuddling you forever, I should probably bring the boys some tequila,” Johnny sighs.

“The boys,” you echo. “I feel like I’ve just fucked Mark and Hyuck’s dad.”

“Do you have a daddy kink, Tiny?”

“For you, I have any kink you want,” you laugh.

“I like the sound of that.”

“Just… kiss me again?” you ask. “We can bring tequila after.”

“Are you sure you want to come with? You can stay here and I’ll come back-”

“We should…” you lick your lips, “we should be social.”

“I just fucked your brains out and you want to go be social?” Johnny grins. “Maybe I didn’t work you over well enough.”

“You worked me over perfect,” you laugh, grabbing at his jaw so you can press your lips to his.

Johnny melts into the kiss, and there’s something in it that feels like coming home. You’ve never felt this safe with a guy before, and it’s kind of starting to scare you.

If you were to stay here- you think you might even fall in love with Johnny… that is, if you haven’t already.

You pull away from your Ghostie, letting out a sigh.

Getting out of his lap isn’t fun, and your legs are wobbly as you stand next to the bed, but Johnny’s hands go to your hips to steady you.

When he stands, he towers over you, and you’re overcome by your thirst for him all over again. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, bringing him in for another kiss.

It’s so easy to get lost in making out with Johnny, but you have to tear yourself away, nodding, “Tequila.”

“Tequila,” he echoes. “Can you stand by yourself?”

“I’m okay,” you assure him, but it still hurts when he lets you go.

Johnny pulls on some sweatpants while you find your dress-

“You’re not putting that back on,” Johnny tells you, moving to his closet. “Let me give you some clothes.”

“Are you trying to announce to Mark and Hyuck that we’ve fucked?” you laugh, accepting the large t-shirt he throws your way.

“Trust me, Tiny, they’ll know.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“After this, I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself, and something tells me you won’t be able to either.” Johnny pulls on a hoodie, grabbing the tequila and turning to you. “I know you, remember?”

You grin, pulling on the pair of black boxer shorts he’d also sent your way. “Maybe a little too well.”

“Or not well enough,” Johnny suggests, approaching you again.

“You’re such a sweet talker.”

“Only for you,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss you again. “You look cute in my clothes.”

“Do I look like I just got fucked senseless?”

“Definitely.”

“Mark’s going to hate you,” you laugh.

“He’ll get over it,” Johnny brushes it off, reaching for your hand. “Ready to go?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You can still stay here if you want.”

“No, let’s face this now.” You need to be firm, need to get out of this love den before you find yourself even more loved up.

The two of you head to his door and Johnny holds it open for you.

In the time you’ve been fucking, it looks like a lot of people have dispersed from the party, so walking through the hallway isn’t exactly a walk of shame. However, when you get down the stairs to Mark’s floor, you realize you still have to pull up your big girl panties to face him.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” you tell Johnny, “I’ll meet you in Mark’s.”

“You don’t want me to come with you?”

“To the bathroom?” you laugh. “I think I’m good.”

With one last kiss, you make your way to the frat bathroom at the end of the hall. It’s important to go pee after sex, for UTI reasons, your sorority big sister has drilled that into you since first year. When you’re done, you head to the sink, daring a look at yourself in the dirty mirror.

You look fucked, but you also look happy.

In fact, you can’t stop smiling.

After washing your hands, you dab some water on your throat, hoping it will calm you down. Once you feel good and ready, you exit the bathroom.

Mark’s door is open when you get to his room, and you poke your head inside.

Jaehyun and Hyuck are on one bed, Mark and Johnny on the other, and they’re all lifting shots to their mouths. As you step inside, Mark’s gaze shifts to you. He takes in your new outfit and his eyes widen, then he spits out his shot, coughing loudly.

Johnny’s hand finds Mark’s back while he practically coughs up a lung, and then Mark is leaping to his feet. “What-” His eyes dart between you and Johnny, and you can see the realization there.

“Jesus, Mark, learn how to handle a shot,” Hyuck scoffs.

Mark doesn’t even entertain Hyuck, he simply turns to his big, pointing an accusatory finger at Johnny’s chest. “You’re Ghostie!?”

Johnny stands up. “You’re the one who gave me her number last year.”

“I what?!” Mark’s eyes are practically bulging out of his head now.

Hyuck and Jaehyun exchange a look, and Hyuck reaches for the tequila to pour another shot.

“Mark, it could be worse-” you say, trying to de-escalate the situation while stepping further into the room.

“How could it be worse!?” Mark bellows. “My Big is a stalker!”

“He’s not a stalker,” you defend Johnny, coming to join your tall new lover, your hand reaching for his.

“You’re her new boss!” Mark insists.

“Hyuck fucked our last bar manager,” Johnny points out.

“Guilty,” Hyuck smirks over the rim of his new shot.

Mark’s still not having any of this situation. “This is fucked up.”

“Mark, I’ve told you a million times, it’s spooky season.” You can’t help but giggle. This has been such a turn of events, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“You better not hurt her,” Mark says next, trying to meet Johnny’s gaze even while substantially shorter.

“I won’t,” Johnny promises.

“This is just-” Mark shakes his head. “Fuck this, I need to sleep.”

“We can move the party to my room,” Jaehyun says, already grabbing the bottle of tequila while Hyuck reaches for his bong.

It’s clear Mark’s done talking, and he collapses onto his bed face first like a tantruming toddler. You’ll discuss this with him another day, but you know now is probably not the time to push him to accept that his Big has a whole different side to him that Mark’s never seen.

As you leave the room with Hyuck, Johnny and Jaehyun, Hyuck elbows you in the side. “I always knew you’d end up with one of us.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, gaze shifting to Johnny and Jaehyun who walk a few feet ahead of you.

“Once an NCT girl, always an NCT girl,” Hyuck nods. “And between us…” he leans closer, “Johnny is a good one.”

Your Ghostie looks over his shoulder at you, and you meet his gaze with a smile. “He is,” you agree. “Hey, John?”

“Yes, Tiny?” He stops at the door to the stairwell, holding it open and allowing you to catch up.

“I changed my mind, I think I am done with the party tonight.”

“Yeah?” Johnny smirks. “Gonna come back to my room?”

“If you invite me.”

“Tiny, my room has an open-door policy for you now.”

“Is that so?” you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Uh huh,” Johnny grins. “And free cuddles, anytime you want them.”

“I like the sound of that,” you confess.

“Just get married already!” Hyuck shouts back at the two of you as he climbs the stairs with Jaehyun.

You and Johnny can only laugh at Hyuck. Your willpower is completely gone, and you allow your Ghostie to take you back to his room.

He cuddles you close as the party dies down outside, and you find yourself slipping into the best sleep of your life on Halloween night with your Ghostie by your side.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Halloween is my favourite Holiday, and there's something about Johnny and horror genre that makes me go feral

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🔮 preview. There’s no way he should be this fucking sexy. You’re outside in the cold, parkas on, a Santa hat on his head, a joint between his lips, both your jeans down to your knees, his hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, and he’s about to fuck you against a wall with his massive cock- you’ve decided that Johnny as a whole is simply illegal.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism in an alley, weed use, slight temperature play, big dick Johnny, quickie, cum kink/filling panties with cum while at work, praise, dirty talk, size kink, hand over mouth silencing, choking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, pretty girl, good girl. (his) Ghostie.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 275

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!reader

bonus

You’ve been dating Johnny for a month and a half and you still can’t get enough of him. Whenever you pop over to the frat, it’s not long before one of you is dragging the other to his room. There’s never been sexual chemistry like there is for you and your Ghostie.

You’d never thought your biggest hurdle in the workplace would be refraining from jumping your bar manager, but here you are, every shift, practically drooling over him. Each brush of his hands across your body as he moves behind you to grab something makes you want to tear his clothes off, and your patience is at an all-time low.

With Christmas fast approaching, the bar scene has substantially dwindled, and it’s making you even more needy. When Skeets only has a handful of customers, you fill drink orders while thinking about sucking on Johnny’s cock.

It doesn’t help that he’s started wearing a Santa hat- why does it make him even sexier?

As Johnny smiles and makes casual conversation with a pair of girls sitting at the bar, you do your best to calm yourself. At the end of the night, you’ll be the one in Johnny’s bed, you just have to get to closing.

You notice in the periphery of your vision that the girls are finishing up with their drinks. Johnny excuses himself to grab the card reader, and as he slips past your ass, you feel his hard cock in his jeans. It’s difficult to stifle a moan, and you do so by biting on your lip.

He loves teasing you, especially while you’re at work, and it drives you absolutely mental.

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chilfucked · 1 month

Text

You guys ever think about how terrifying and violating this scene must have been for Chil? (analysis under cut)

I want you to put yourself in Chil’s shoes for a moment. You’re at minimum a head smaller than everyone in your party. The only combat skills you have are long range and mostly support, plus you don’t even have your gear right now. You’re balls deep in the dungeon. You’re starving. You just had a near death experience when your party did NOT have the means to revive you (nothing to replace calories. assuming the mimic beat you). And now the people you’re essentially stuck with are ganging up on you.

I get that this is played as a gag but. This is like. Real fear in his eyes. He’s actually scared. TERRIFIED. And rightfully so.

Here you have:

Senshi: The guy you just met who clearly doesn’t respect you or you autonomy not only suggesting to use your tools against your will, but he’s actively physically restraining you. Something that is known to be very demeaning for his entire race and especially to him.

Marcille: The girl you only met a couple of adventures ago who also kind of doesn’t respect you, like, at ALL who’s just sitting there watching.

And Laios: The ONE GUY HERE that even remotely respects you that you’ve just BARLEY started trusting, who is now betraying that trust by being the one to take your belongings and use them against your will. In front of you. After you told him to stop.

Like. Don’t get me wrong, the cutaway gag to this was funny, but that doesn’t change the actual disdain he’s feeling here. This is someone realizing he’s stuck with people he cannot trust in a situation far too dangerous for him to deal with on his own. There’s no respect for him. His autonomy. His belongings. Nothing. None of what he believed earlier is present. I don’t know if this was a contract breach or not, but it was a personal one for sure. I can only begin to imagine what’s running through his head right now, and how powerless he feels here to the mistreatment by people he doesn’t know and or JUST started warming up to.

Sure, he has a moment to justify it to himself here. Everyone’s tired. Hungry. They didn’t mean any harm by it, and in the end it was better for everyone, right? (Ignoring the fact that they could’ve de-shelled the mimic using Senshi’s wok but that’s neither here nor there I guess.) But deep down he knows that doesn’t really make it right. That doesn’t change the fact it wasn’t handled properly. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s not being respected at all in this decision. Not even being taken into account other than to be removed from the vote entirely.

And, at the end of it, you’re still being demeaned. Still being treated like a child who shouldn’t get a say. Your justified anger just being used against you to show how immature you’re being. The louder you yell to be taken seriously, the less seriously you’re taken.

Sure, everything works out in the end. He’s made some of the best friends he’ll ever have in his whole life, but here? Now? Chilchuck is alone. Isolated from anyone he could go to. Trapped, used, disregarded, and more closed off than he’s been in a very long time. Because he was actually starting to trust the people around him again. And for what? It just happened again.

#chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuk dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #analysis #metaposting #you can tell i put time into this one cause there’s proper grammar and punctuation lol #also MAN this one’s been on my mind for a while now #took forever to finally be able to articulate it lol

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dearsnow · 3 months

Text

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

- phoenix and her girlfriend set you up with a wso they insist will be right up your alley. (robert “bob” floyd x fem!reader, fluff, reader is meant to be similar to bob, ie quiet, sweet, and nerdy, mentions of being drunk/having sex but nothing explicit)

word count: 2,003

a/n - this fic is parallel HEAVY, so don’t be surprised if you see the same phrase passed around. it’s truly a mindlink esque situation lol. and it’s 100% self-indulgent because the reader’s personality is so similar to mine (i am nothing if not a self caterer)

“Nat, I’m really not sure.” Bob tries to protest. “You know I’m no good with dating and stuff. Who’s to say she’ll even like me?” Natasha pats him on the back, firmly enough for him to know she means it.

“You guys are birds of a feather. Trust me, she’ll like you.”

“Jamie, I just don’t know.” You frown. She’s trying to set you up with her girlfriend’s friend, claiming that you’d be the perfect match, but you know you’re not the most amazing when it comes to meeting new people. You’re slightly awkward at best, socially anxious at worst. “He probably won’t like me. And if we’re really so similar, don’t you think it’ll be stiff and weird because neither of us can say the right, flirty thing?”

“You don’t need to be ‘flirty’ to have a good connection. Not every relationship is going to be like Natasha and I, all fire and flame. Sometimes it’s slow, and slow is good. It’s exactly what you need.” Jamie chides, putting a soothing arm around your shoulder. “Trust me. Birds of a feather, right?”

You shift uncomfortably in the booth you’re sitting in, Jamie’s hand rubbing the side of your arm comfortingly. It’s ten minutes before your supposed double date, and Natasha affirms that it’s about five minutes before he shows up. “Bob’s always early,” she stated, “so we can be even earlier to give you some prep time.”

You’re quiet. Shy, even, and you don’t have the best track record with social events. You’ve never really had a date that understood why you don’t want to get roaringly drunk and have sex in a bathroom and whatnot. The two girls, one in front of you and one by your side, have assured you that Bob will be different. He’s quiet too, but he stands up for himself. He’s strong and capable, with a humble attitude and the slight southern charm that you can bring home to your parents. If he’s really so great, though, what the hell is he doing going out with you?

Bob can see your booth through the door of the diner, and he steels his nerves quietly. He’s got this. He’ll make it a nice dinner, a nice experience, and he will not, under any circumstances, fuck it up. He owes you that much. He knows he’s probably not what you want in a guy. Natasha described you as hardworking, kind, and a good listener. He can’t help but think that you deserve much better than him.

He takes a breath and pushes open the door, the flowers in his other hand a little damp from his sweaty palms.

When he finally rounds the server stand, he can see you. And you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever had the pleasure of setting sights on.

He’s royally fucked, he thinks.

Oh my god, he’s so hot. You smile at him and curse a bit under your breath, careful to not let anyone hear. He’s everything you imagined and more, with sandy colored hair, bright blue eyes, and glasses that look like they’re just a little crooked. If you were bold, you’d reach across the table and fix them as he sat down. You’re not, though, so you just fidget with your hands under the hard wood.

He clears his throat and hands you a small bouquet of daises, sliding into the spot across from you. Nat gives a little self-satisfied smile from next to him. “Hi. I didn’t know what you liked, so I hope that’s okay. I’m- I’m Robert by the way, or Bob, whatever you prefer.”

You think your cheeks will split open from how hard you’re smiling. It’s such a small gesture, but the blush on his cheeks tells you that it’s earnest. “They’re perfect. Thank you, Bob.” You introduce yourself with the next breath, and he shakes your hand like it’s a business meeting. His palms are warm and just a little bit damp, but when his fingers curl around your own like they were meant to fit together, you couldn’t care less. “So,” you begin, somewhat shyly, “you’re Natasha’s WSO?”

When Bob hears your quiet voice, he knows he’s in deep. “Yeah. She’s a great pilot.” His praise earns him an elbow from Natasha, a silent ‘talk about yourself, dipshit’ evident in the action. He smiles nervously. “We do a lot of the weapons bits so the pilots can fly safely. How about you, what do you do?”

“It’s not as important and exciting as your job, that’s for sure.” You laugh before explaining exactly what you do.

“Honestly, that is important and exciting. I’m sure you excel at it, too,” Bob offers, somewhat bashfully. What makes your head spin is that he seems like he means it. He’s sincere, wonderfully so.

As that statement quirks the corners of your mouth up, Bob’s heart explodes. You’re charming and beautifully sweet, with a pretty smile and dashing eyes to boot.

Jamie enters your conversation carefully, like she wants to help but isn’t forcing anything. Natasha pipes in a few times, but overwhelmingly, it’s you and Bob. Neither of you have ever spoken so much in this type of setting before, and it’s great. You bounce ideas and jokes and quips off of each other like you were meant to. You feel like you were meant to, because everything just comes so easily with Robert Floyd. You’re finally talking to someone who understands every bit of you, polishing the hidden parts of yourself until they shine. You never thought you could feel this way with another person.

“Wait, have you read this book called For One More Day?” You ask, finding every opportunity to drag out a subject you enjoy so deeply. “It’s really sad, like a fictional memoir, but I think you’d enjoy it. The whole story is basically an ode to loving your parents while they’re still around.”

“I haven’t, but I’ll be sure to check it out the next time I go go the library.” Bob says, giving a slightly lopsided grin that makes your heart scream. “It seems right up my alley though. I like non fiction books, mostly, but I could go for a change every once and a while.”

Your food is almost forgotten in the midst of the conversation, and his is too. “When you do read fiction, what genres do you go for? I have a million recommendations, so help me narrow them down a bit.”

Bob will never admit this to his friends, but he’s an avid reader. He’s a sucker for a true story or anything about dogs, however, he’d read anything you could ever think to tell him about. He has already made a mental note to check out For One More Day and is currently making more notes as you list off more dog-central books. You, as you’ve told him, go for more of the fancy prose-d, heavy drama-d, and emotion-filled stories. It’s nice to see you like this, talking about something you’re honestly passionate about. The light in your eyes makes you look like a ray of sunshine.

Jamie grins at Natasha from across the table, utterly and unashamedly content that her plot has worked. Natasha rolls her eyes. “Alright, you two,” Nat says, “can we move on to something more exciting? Like planning a second date, maybe. One where Jamie and I can be happy at home while you two nerd out.”

Bob’s face reddens and you give a small, sheepish smile. “I’d like that.” You say.

“Me too.” Bob adds. Natasha can firmly say that she’s never seen him so happy, not even after a successful flight. It’s like he’s finally found the thing that made him tick, like you reached into his chest and wound up the gear box in his heart. “I’m free this Friday, if you’re up for it.”

You tap your fingers on the tabletop, thinking. “This Friday… this Friday is when I’m doing a book reading for the kids at our local library at lunchtime. We could have dinner after that, though.” You want to spend the entire day with him, but if a few hours is all you’re given, you’ll take it. You’d take anything.

Bob’s hands move to touch yours, just barely. His warmth radiates out, perfectly soothing your nerves. “If you want, I can make lunch and help you out at the book reading. I like those kinds of things, but I don’t want to impose.”

“You absolutely should.” You breathe. “You wouldn’t be imposing at all. In fact, I think the kids would really like it if Mr. Naval Aviator read a few books to them. You’d be like a superhero in their eyes.”

You’re a bit astounded by how much Bob’s face flushes. If you thought he was a bit pink before, he’s got a drunk man’s glow now. And you were being completely, one hundred percent honest when you said that the kids would like him. They’d love him. Micah’s father was in the Navy when he was younger, so there’s one connection, and April loves airplanes with a passion. It would be amazing.

“Then I’ll be there. Here’s my number, so you can text me when and where.” Bob slides a little piece of paper over to you, one that he must have written a bit ago, because his pen is securely clipped to his pocket. He likes you so much he wrote down his number while you were (probably) explaining your love for reading, or crafts, or small animals? You’re going to swoon if he keeps this up.

Natasha eyes where your hand is touching Bob’s. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. Now eat your food.” She gestures to your half-touched plates. You and Bob both stutter a little, completely having forgotten what you’re going to have to pay for.

The rest of the evening goes amazingly. You talk about so many subjects that by the end of the day, when the sun is slipping below the horizon, you feel like you’re floating on air— light and unburdened by the way you’ve been able to express yourself. Bob insisted on paying for your meal, and though you protested, a little part of you feels giddy that you’re worth spending money on. Bob walks you to your car, tucking your flowers into the cup holder between your seat and the passenger side.

“I really enjoyed that.” He muses. “I really enjoyed you. I thought Nat and Jamie were kinda full of it when they told me about this whole double date, but I’m glad they weren’t.”

“Me too, oh my gosh. I was totally expecting some stuck-up Navy nerd, but I’m glad it was you. I enjoy you too, Bob, probably way too much.” You’re standing by your door, but you feel like you can’t leave just yet.

He looks at you with something you hope to think is affection in his eyes before glancing down towards your lips. “I’ll let you get going. Text me anytime.”

You hesitate, staring up into his ocean blue eyes. Before you can stop yourself or tell yourself it’s a bad idea, you take the collar of his shirt in your hand and kiss him.

It feels right. His hand coming up to rest on your waist, his body pressed against yours as he stabilizes himself on your car, it’s everything you’ve always dreamed of. His lips work in tandem with your own, like they’re collaborating on some sort of secret mission, and he kisses you like he loves you.

His pupils are blown up and he’s panting just slightly when you pull away. He misses the feeling of your lips on his as soon as it ends, the tingling sensation working its way down his face. “T-Thank you…?” He whispers. You laugh, the sound music to his ears. He can hardly believe that that just happened.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Definitely.“

You give him a small peck on the cheek and step into your car, so happy you think you could explode. As you pull out, and as he waves at you from the parking lot, you make an effort to remember to thank Jamie and Natasha.

Who would’ve thought that you really would be birds of a feather?

Taglist: @seitmai

#solar eclipse.#bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #top gun maverick x reader #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fic #bob floyd #robert floyd #top gun headcanons #top gun x reader #top gun #top gun fandom #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun movie #top gun maverick #top gun fic

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oddinary4bts · 3 months

Text

Chasing Cars | ch 6 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: date anxiety, Sam Hwang, OC had a pothead phase in high school, cursing, probably the worst date of OC's life, alcohol, peach, jungkook is a drunk mess, mentions of throwing up, explicit content: mentions of jungkook and oc having sex

☆word count: 9.6k

☆a/n: in this one, jungkook and OC proceed to be frustrating again :') hope you enjoy haha <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, March 1st

You count the water drops on the vitrine of the restaurant.

One, two, three, though the third joins the second to merge into a single, bigger one.

It’s all you can do to quell your nerves as you’re surrounded by the low chatter of the other patrons in the restaurant. You’re sitting next to the window, looking at the world outside. It’s unusually warm today, and the snow turned into rain earlier, though you know it will ice as soon as the temperature drops again. It feels like déjà-vu, like you’re stepping back to Valentine’s Day, though the company will be different tonight.

You’ve been avoiding Jungkook, and he’s been avoiding you. In truth, you don’t even think you’ve seen him once since last Sunday. He’d come home while you were eating dinner in the kitchen, and he’d walked in, patted your head, and grabbed a glass of water. When he’d stayed, leaning against the counter and looking at you, you’d asked him what he wanted.

He’d only frowned and said you were weird, and that had been that.

To be fair, you know what he wanted. Or at least what he deserved. Apologies, that is, for the way you spoke to him at the bar. But you haven’t been able to give him any. Maybe because it pushed him away, rebuilt the true distance between the two of you as if nothing ever happened. It’s safer that way, especially considering how involved you’d already gotten after just a few days.

Then again, you get why feelings would grow so easily with him. It’s the risk that comes with him, the thrill of doing something you shouldn’t do. As a kid, that same thrill had always made you fall more on the bad side, though you’d always been good in school. But did you have a pothead phase in your last two years of high school? Yes, you did.

Looking at yourself today, you think you made it out of it pretty well after all.

You sigh, glancing at the time on your phone. He’s late. You don’t know why you’re surprised he’s late – Sam Hwang has shown time and time again that he cannot be trusted. And frankly, you don’t know why you’re here.

Why after last week’s shit show and what happened last summer, you still agreed to meet up at a restaurant that’s definitely over your budget.

Another sigh escapes your chest, and you tap your feet under the chair, anxiety spiking through you. You feel foolish and dumb and everything in between, and you’re starting to want to head home when he finally appears outside, heading for the door.

Your heart stops in your chest. As a matter of fact, you think it’s dropped to your ass before Sam makes it to your table, apologizing profusely. He’s dripping water, and you realize he’s walked all the way here.

You do find it in yourself to feel bad for him, just a little bit. Because you’re careful around him, afraid he’ll just hurt you again.

“Sup,” Sam says as he finally sits in front of you, pushing his long hair back. “Shit, it’s cold.”

You grab your scarf, handing it to him. “Put this on, it’ll help.”

He hesitates for a few seconds, holding your gaze as if to make sure this is not a trick, and then he finally takes the scarf. He sighs in contentment as he wraps it around himself, before saying, “Your perfume smells really good.”

You know. You know because Hoseok once told you the same, and so did Jungkook.

“Thanks,” you say, looking down at your glass of water.

There’s an awkward silence, as if Sam is expecting you to say anything else, but you can’t find for the life of yourself anything to say. So you busy yourself with looking through the menu, reining in your wince as you notice just how much out of your budget this restaurant is.

“Long week?” Sam asks as he starts leafing through his own menu, though he keeps a careful eye on you the whole time.

You nod. “Had some lab reports for two classes due tonight,” you tell him. “Managed to get them done but they drained me.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t too bad,” he says, laughing lightly. “You’ve always been a smart ass.”

You purse your lips, cheeks dusting with pink. “Thanks.” You clear your throat, meeting his gaze just long enough to ask, “What about you? How was your week?”

Then your eyes fall back to the comfort of the menu, and you try to figure out if ordering an appetizer for dinner would look bad.

“It was great,” he says. “I didn’t have much to do for classes, so I just chilled. Spent some time with Jake and Soobin.”

You remember them. Jake is the redhead you saw at the bar last week, and Soobin is the third male who completed the friend group last summer. There were three other girls, though you haven’t heard of them since you moved to the city.

“Nice,” you let out, offering him a small smile.

The awkwardness expands tenfold after that, and you choose to order the cheapest meal on the menu. It’s pasta, and you figure you can never go wrong with pasta. After you’ve chosen, you still pretend you’re looking though, trying to escape having to face the heavy silence.

A waitress saves you from it by stopping by the table, asking if you want anything to drink. Sam, with his easy smile and nonchalant attitude, immediately attracts her gaze.

“I’ll have a Guinness,” he says. “And the lady will just have water.”

You freeze. You freeze with your eyes shooting at his pretty features. He looks back at you once the waitress nods, scribbling the order on her pad even though you’d assume it’s something easy to remember.

“What do you mean I’ll only have water?” you say.

Sam laughs. He laughs, as if his choosing for you isn’t paternalistic and so out of date. “I’m sure you wouldn’t drink a beer,” he answers, and it’s almost condescending.

You make an effort of looking around the restaurant, pointedly stopping at a table near you, where the couple is sharing a bottle of wine. “I’m sure we could order wine?” you let out questioningly.

“I don’t like wine,” Sam replies, matter-of-factly.

You widen your gaze, tilting your head to the side. “And that means I can’t order any?”

“Damn, why are you so pressed about this?”

Because this is not Sam. Or if it is, you do not recognize him. He’d charmed you last summer, whisked you off your feet and made you believe in love at first sight. It seems you were blinded, and it’s really hard to find any charm in the man sitting in front of you.

“Never mind,” you say, choosing peace over war.

But in that instant you already make the decision that you will never see him again. You’ll stay for dinner, though, if only because you don’t want to have spent twenty dollars on an Uber for nothing.

When the server comes back with the beer and to take your order, you realize maybe you should have left. Indeed, Sam orders for you again – a salad this time around – while he orders a steak for himself. You have to do everything in yourself not to cringe as he does so, and you keep an empty, plastic smile on your lips as he starts speaking to you about what he’s been up to since last summer.

And he speaks and speaks. That’s something you recognize in him – the way he can speak so much without you having to say anything. It’s like he’s doing a monologue – back then, you’d loved listening to his voice, if only because you liked the musicality of it. Right now, it’s grating on your nerves, and you keep diverting your eyes to the window, hoping there’s some salvation for you on the other side.

Obviously there isn’t any, and if Sam realizes your disinterest, he doesn’t let it show.

You think he’s on his month of December when the food finally arrives, and you’d thank God if you were religious for the respite in Sam’s spiel. Indeed, the silence is most welcomed, and you eat your salad, trying not to think about the pasta you wanted to order.

At least it’s a decent salad, but you’ll know you’ll have to eat something else when you get home.

“And the funniest part,” Sam is saying when you tune back into the conversation, “is that the girl wasn’t even pretty!”

You widen your gaze. “Oh!” is all you’re able to say.

You think you see the couple at the table next to yours sliding their gazes to you, and the girl leans in closer to her partner, saying something. You can only assume that she’s laughing at your expense, and you get it.

You would too, if you were seated next to someone having the worst date of their life.

And it’s strange. So fucking strange, because once you would have given everything to be right here, with Sam Hwang. Now you feel like he’s a stranger, like he didn’t kiss you at the end of the night on that first party as if he’d been waiting for you his whole life.

“But her friend was,” Sam adds, and his fork makes a grating sound as he moves it on his plate. “Sorry,” he mindlessly apologizes.

“No worries,” you let out, with no ounce of emotion in your tone.

Indeed, your social battery ran out while he was on October, and you think now he’s almost caught up to the present. Not that you care – you know you’ll never want to hear about Sam Hwang again as soon as you’re out of this restaurant.

“And you?” he asks, surprising you.

Surprising everyone in the restaurant, you reckon.

“Me?” you say.

“What’s new?”

You let out a small laugh. You can’t help it – it bubbles out of your mouth by itself, and you think it almost sounds a little crazed.

“Nothing much,” you answer. “My classes have been chill, can’t wait to be in med school, and I am starting to have a headache.”

Sam frowns, lips slightly curling in disdain. “Am I boring you?”

You blink once, twice, plastering a fake smile on your lips. “Of course not! I’m happy to know everything that’s happened in your life since you left me alone on the docks last summer.”

You say that at the exact same time the waitress stops next to the table. She gasps, or at least you think she does, and then she clears her throat.

“Would you guys like some dessert?” she asks as she eyes the empty plates in front of you.

“No thank you,” you quickly say before Sam could once more decide for you. “We’ll take the bill.”

He’s shocked. You see it the moment your eyes meet his again. You hope he sees all the ire in your gaze, all the hatred for what he did months ago and for this revelation that he isn’t shit anyway.

“I wanted dessert,” he says once the server is out of sight.

“Well, you can go home and get yourself some,” you drawl. “I’m tired of this.”

“Excuse me?” Sam lets out. “I’m stooping so low for you, and you’re just tired?”

“Seriously?” You scoff, shaking your head. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking last summer but you are an asshole, Sam Hwang.”

“And you’re so much better?” he says, laughing bitterly. “You’ve been looking outside this whole time as if you’d rather be anywhere but here. You’re the one that was begging me to hang out.”

You snort. “Oh, did I now?” you say. “I think I remember you asking for a date.”

“Whatever,” he grumbles. “I’m done here.”

You watch him get up, not surprised in the slightest as he throws your scarf at you, and then you watch him leave. He knocks his chair down when he grabs his coat from the back of it, and every pair of eyes in the restaurant turns towards you at the commotion. You just remain seated, trying to not explode, lips stretched into a thin line.

When Sam is out of the restaurant, the girl at the table next to yours leans closer to you. “I was about to tell him to fuck off for you, girl,” she says, and it makes you laugh.

“Man, to think I once had feelings for that douche?” you reply.

She chuckles. “He’s just red flags, run while you still can.”

You look at his chair on the floor, wincing. “Highly doubt he’ll ever approach me again.”

“And I say good riddance.”

You laugh along with her and her partner, and then you get up to right the chair, if only to busy yourself. Because your hands are trembling – you’re not good with public scenes like the one that just unfolded, no matter how friendly the people around you are. So you’re relieved when the waitress comes back, though the price on the bill seems to be laughing at you.

You still pay, cringing at the hole it’ll make in your budget, and then you wish a good evening to the girl and her partner, before heading towards the door, putting your coat on on the way. You stay in the lobby as you order your Uber, and you go through the Instagram stories as you wait.

Jungkook’s story is fourth, and you wince as you notice he posted it less than a minute ago. It’s nothing much though, just a picture of a table filled with beers, and you’re about to skip when something catches your eyes.

It is indeed a table filled with beers. A very familiar table, and you think you’ll murder Jungkook.

You slide in his dms as you slowly feel anger rising in you.

[08:57 pm] You: when were u going to tell me ure hosting smthg at the apt tonight?

Jungkook doesn’t reply. As a matter of fact, you don’t even know if he’ll see, and all you can think is that you need to go home and go fast, just to make sure no one breaks anything.

It’s not that you’re against having get-togethers at your apartment. As a matter of fact, you’re hosting something with your friends tomorrow, though you’d planned to tell Jungkook tomorrow morning.

Maybe this is payback for not telling him before. For not apologizing, for pretending that he’s just a stranger even though two weeks ago you were moaning under him.

You push the thoughts away, but they’re like a door you were supposed to pull – they remain unmoving, taking up the whole scene of your mind. They haunt and taunt you all the way home, and you reckon it’s better than to think about Sam Hwang, about the shit-show of the date you just had.

So you cling to the anger rising in you, to the regrets and to the disappointment. Maybe because Jungkook is part of your present, and not your past. Maybe because no matter how much you avoid each other, your paths will always cross.

The Uber drops you right outside the door of your building, and you thank the driver before stepping out into the cold. The rain has relented now, but it’s already started to turn to ice, so you carefully maneuver to the bottom of the stairs leading to your apartment, doing your best not to fall. You’re successful – not like a similar, freezing rain day, and you climb the stairs to the door properly.

You’re not surprised to find the door unlocked.

But you’re definitely surprised when you open the door to the sight of five grown men sitting in your living room, with two pretty girls hanging with them. Though music is playing loud enough to burst your eardrums, everyone’s gaze turns to you, and you stand in the open door with a slightly frightened look on your features.

“Peach!” Jungkook bellows.

If he realizes he’s called you by that pet name in front of everyone he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he jumps to his feet, heading to where you’re standing.

“It’s freezing,” he comments as he stops next to you, pushing the door close.

You immediately smell the alcohol on him, and you cock an eyebrow.

“You’re drunk,” you state.

He flicks your nose. “Astute.”

You don’t know how he manages to use vocabulary like that when he’s drunk. What you do know is that everyone is still staring at you, as if they’re watching the scene unfolding in a movie theatre.

“You didn’t tell me you were hosting something,” you hiss through your teeth, turning away from everyone to focus on Jungkook who’s leaning against the door now.

“Oh, peach,” he lets out. “Sorry. I thought we weren’t on speaking terms.”

Bewildered, you watch as he flashes you one of his iconic grins, the one that makes him look like a bunny, and then he heads back to where he was sprawled on the floor. Right next to one of the girls.

The other girl you know, and she’s currently leaning against her boyfriend. She offers you a bright smile when your gazes meet, waving hi.

“Hey,” you reply as you take off your boots and coat. You put the latter in the closet, before turning towards the living room again.

The group seems to have moved on to something else, and you watch as Jungkook laughs, eyes crinkling with happiness. You don’t think you’re ready for what it does to your lungs – it sucks the breath right out of them, and you quickly leave to head to your room.

You pitstop by the kitchen first, trying to see if there’s anything to eat in the fridge. You fall on some leftover noodles that are undoubtedly Jungkook’s. You snatch them from where they are, thinking it’s a good revenge for him hosting people over without telling you. They’re almost done reheating when Sera walks into the kitchen, and she beams once more at the sight of you.

“Y/n!” she says. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”

You offer her a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, since Tae left, you guys don’t usually come over.”

And it’s true. Except for Jimin, you haven’t seen the rest of Taehyung’s friend group since he left at the beginning of January.

“It was Jimin’s idea,” she says as she heads to the fridge. She fishes a lemonade from the top shelf, before carefully closing the door again. “We facetimed Tae earlier.”

You nod. “Awesome. How is he?”

“You guys don’t speak?” she asks, and she genuinely sounds concerned.

You shrug your shoulders because you do speak. But ever since what happened with Jungkook, you’ve found it hard to truly speak to Taehyung, to pretend that you didn’t fuck his best friend, so you’ve been trying to avoid him as much as possible.

Though it might be slightly suspicious, Taehyung hasn’t caught up to it yet.

“We do,” you say, chuckling. “Just not that often.”

She hums. “Oh well. Do you want to join us?” she asks, motioning over her shoulder. “JK said you make for a good Kim substitute.”

You snort, unsure of what you just heard. “What?”

She smiles secretively. “You know what I mean.”

Your gaze widens, and the microwave beeps, startling you. You pull your noodles out of it, wincing at how warm the bowl is. You drop it on the counter, before turning towards Sera again. “As a matter of fact, I actually have no clue what you mean.”

She bursts out laughing, that clear crystalline laugh you have no doubt ensnared Jimin when they met years ago.

“Jungkook just said that you guys hung out during the power outage and that you were chill.”

You wonder if you’ll have to murder him. You reckon you might, and your heart squeezes in your chest as you hope no one actually understood what he meant by that.

“He’s right,” Sera adds. “Each time you’ve hung out with us I’ve always found you fun.”

“Oh,” you let out, and you try to smile, try to act as if you didn’t turn entirely white at her words.

“So come eat with us!”

And then she’s waltzing out of the kitchen, and you wonder if you should just jump out of the window. Avoiding Jungkook seems like the only viable option, especially when you step out of the kitchen, noodles in hand, to the sight of him with his head in the lap of the other girl. She’s running her hands through his hair while he plays on the Switch, and your heart squeezes uncomfortably.

Unfortunately, Jungkook catches sight of you, and he awkwardly sits up.

“Come here!” he tells you, and everyone’s head once again turns to you. “Wait, are those my noodles?”

You glance down at the bowl in your hands. “Maybe.”

“Stop stealing my food,” he complains, and he gets up, handing his controller to the girl.

You’re keenly aware of the way her gaze slightly narrows on you as Jungkook makes his way to you. He makes to grab the bowl from your hands, and you turn away from him.

“Nu-uh,” you say. “They’re mine now.”

Jungkook groans. “No.”

And then he wraps an arm around your waist, skillfully stealing the bowl from your hands and raising it over your head. He lets out a victorious cry, and his arm tightens around your waist when you try to reach up.

“If you like my food so bad, just ask me to cook some for you,” Jungkook says, looking down at you.

He’s close. Dangerously close, especially under the eyes of his friends. Of that girl he was all cuddled up with just a few seconds ago.

“What are you doing?” you say through your teeth.

He dumbly smiles, before winking at you. “Making sure you don’t eat the noodles I know I’ll need tomorrow morning for the hangover.”

“Just don’t drink too much.”

His eyes trail to the coffee table. “I think it’s a little too late for that.”

And you know it is. He smells like it, like he’s had too many beers. You wonder how he can look sober even though he drank so much – if you were him, you’d be making a fool out of yourself by now.

“Please, Jungkook,” you say after a few seconds of tense silence, of your eyes getting lost in the enormity of his gaze.

He frowns, and his arm lowers from where he’s holding the noodles up. “What’s wrong?”

You gulp. “I just had a shit date, and I’m still hungry. I just want to eat something.”

He takes a step away from you, handing you the bowl as his frown deepens. He cocks his head to the side, questioningly, and then folds his arms on his chest.

You do your best not to avert your gaze to the muscles on his arms, instead letting your eyes fall to the bowl of noodles.

“Who did you go on a date with?” he asks.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Please tell me it’s not the guy from last week.”

You shut your eyes, sighing deeply. “Jungkook, it’s none of your business.”

“He’s an asshole,” he lets out, a little louder than necessary. “Why would you go out with him?”

You grit your teeth, before meeting Jungkook’s gaze again. “Because we have history. But I promise you that after the shit date we just had, I’ll never see him again. Happy?”

He looks anything but happy, yet he still says, “Yeah.”

“Now, can I go eat in my room while you guys do whatever it is that you’ve been doing?”

You make the mistake of looking at the group in the living room, and you hate that they all quickly look away, pretending that they weren’t watching.

“Why don’t you stay with us?” Jungkook suggests. “To cheer you up.”

You settle your gaze back on him, and he really looks like he wants to cheer you up. He’s pouting slightly, a small crease between his brows as he looks at you intently. There’s a light in his eyes that you don’t want to interpret, not when you hear the echoes of him telling you that you would just pretend nothing ever happened.

Are you weak for being unable to tell him no? Maybe. But you’ll have plenty of time for regrets later.

“Okay,” you let out. “But you should chill on the alcohol, you reek of it.”

He narrows his gaze at you. “Here’s to trying to be nice to you, huh?”

You chuckle, mimicking his expression. “Poor you.”

“You steal my food and then sass me?” he says, tongue pushing on the inside of his cheek. It attracts your gaze to his mouth, and your heart once again squeezes, though this time it doesn’t hurt.

No, this time it makes blush spread on your cheeks, and you feel like you’re starting to burn under his gaze.

“You deserve it,” you declare, and then you’re walking around him to head to the living room.

He jogs to catch up to you, and once more grabs the bowl from your hands. It almost falls to the floor, but he effortlessly saves the noodles, and then motions with his elbow to the coffee table.

“Jae, clear the table please,” Jungkook says.

The guy – Jaehyun, you think? – obeys, though he grumbles the whole time. The unknown girl ends up helping him, and a few seconds later you’re seated in front of the coffee table, with Jungkook next to you. He sits so close you feel his thigh against yours, though he leans back into the couch, attention shifting to the TV, where Jimin and Eunwoo are playing a riveting game of Smash.

Everyone seems to forget that you’re there, and so you eat the noodles, trying your best not to think about Jungkook next to you. About the way you could easily cuddle in his side with a slight shift towards him…

Treacherous little thoughts. You don’t let them live in your head for longer than a few seconds, perhaps because the spice from the noodles overtakes everything. You wince, glancing at Jungkook, who catches your gaze, light dancing behind his pupils.

“You okay?” he asks as your cheeks burn.

“I forgot how spicy you like your food.”

He grins as you fan yourself. “You’ll get used to it. We just have to build up your tolerance.”

Then he does something incredibly stupid. You think his friends will notice, but they all erupt in cheers as they watch the TV, and Jimin slams Eunwoo’s character off the platform.

Jungkook’s large hand lands on your upper thigh. You’d say it’s possessive if you could produce any thoughts, but your brain zeroes in on the spot where he touches you, and you look down. He seems to realize it at the same time as you, and he quickly moves his hand away, frowning slightly.

He’s cute like this. Lips jutting out in a pout, a crease between his brows, confusion swirling in his gaze. Like he didn’t mean to touch you like that, the act done out of instinct.

We just pretend nothing happened, no?

His words clang through your mind, and you turn away from him. Eyes falling on the noodles, and you take a shuddering breath in. Your memories provide you with images of you and Jungkook, alone in this living room. Of an attraction that was inevitable, yet now it tastes bitter.

You’d like to be angry with him. For being so casual about everything, for wanting this over whatever secretive relationship you could have shared with him before Taehyung comes back. Maybe you’re stupid for wanting anything – the longer it would last, the more it would hurt. But as you force yourself to eat the food he cooked, you think the spice on your tongue isn’t really what’s hurting.

No, it’s your heart in your chest. It beats achingly, even more so as Jungkook ends up moving away from you, as if realizing through his drunken haze that he shouldn’t sit so close to you. That even if you tried to be friends, just friends, he’s already fucked you like there was no tomorrow. And during the power outage, it truly felt like there wasn’t any. Like you could just stay in that bubble outside of time.

When Jungkook ends up lying back with his head in that girl’s lap – Lisa, you now know – you pretend like you don’t wish it was you, running your fingers through his hair. You pretend like he’s not there, yet you see him in the periphery of your vision. You hear his laugh, know he smiles, and you wonder, is he just pretending?

Or is he attracted to that girl? You wouldn’t blame him. She matches his doe eyes, pretty features always hinting at a smile. She’s attractive, and you quickly understand that she is Sera’s best friend. Or at least it seems so, because she’s comfortable with the boys, and even more so with Jungkook.

You wouldn’t be surprised if they have history. Or if Jungkook is planning to get with her – hell, if you were a guy, you reckon she’d be the type of girl you’d want to get with.

Yet it hurts. It burns, and you find it hard to focus on the television. Even more so to participate in the conversation, and if someone notices, no one says anything. Perhaps because these are not your friends – no matter how friendly they might get, you’ll always be Taehyung’s little sister to them.

You’ll always be Taehyung’s little sister to Jungkook.

“Hey, do you want something to drink?” Jaehyun says, shaking you out of your thoughts.

You’re done eating by now, and you just turn to look at him, a startled look on your features. He chuckles at the sight, and you feel your cheeks burning.

“No, all good,” you tell him.

“Careful,” Jungkook says from behind you. “Tae’ll kill you if you speak to her.”

Now, Jungkook’s speech is definitely slurred. He’s drunk – you were aware of it before, but you hadn’t realized just how much. Indeed, when you turn to look at him, you know the bitter expression on his features is one he usually hides behind a mask.

Just like that you know that he indeed does care, in the weird, twisted way that Jeon Jungkook can care. It reassures you somehow, but also breaks your heart.

He was there, during the power outage. Did he, too, use it as a way to escape reality? Is he, too, regretting having to go back to normal?

You like to tell yourself that he does.

“Bruh,” Jaehyun lets out, and Jungkook quickly composes his features, offering a bland smile to his friend.

The others just keep speaking about whatever it is that they’re speaking of now, but you can tell Jungkook is upset. You don’t think it’s jealousy because of Jaehyun – he’s haunted, just like you.

He stays upset for a while. Drinking in silence, sitting up when Lisa says something to him and him only. She looks disappointed, and her eyes dart to you for a millisecond before she looks away. If she wants to blame you for Jungkook not wanting to cuddle with her anymore, then so be it.

Because you like that she’s not running her fingers through his hair anymore. Like that he sits between the two of you, and you imagine he’s just a little closer to you than he is to her. You’d want him to be – it’s a dangerous thought, much like all of your thoughts when it comes to Jeon Jungkook.

When Eunwoo suggests doing shots, Jungkook plasters a smile on his lips. You see it for the mask that it is, yet you don’t mention it. You long to reach between you and him, to smooth the lines on his brow away, but you don’t do anything. You accept the shot that’s handed to you, and a few minutes later, you let it burn down your throat.

After that, you decide to grab something to drink, only so that Jungkook won’t have to feel alone. Though you highly doubt he’ll realize the silent support that you offer him.

While you’re still in the kitchen, Lisa walks in, a pretty smile lighting up her equally pretty features. You freeze by the fridge, and she moves closer to you, casually saying, “Hey, how are you?”

You offer her a tight-lipped smile. “I’m okay. You… want anything to drink?”

She looks down at the lemonade you’ve gotten for yourself, nodding once. You hand it to her, and it takes her a few seconds before she grabs it, awkwardness lingering in the air. You take another one for yourself, and then you face her again, hoping she’ll be gone.

She hasn’t moved an inch. As a matter of fact, she’s looking at you pensively, nose slightly scrunched.

“You’re Taehyung’s sister?”

The question takes you aback. You widen your gaze, struck like lightning just hit, and your mouth falls open. You think you must look stupid, so you clear your throat, trying to escape the awkwardness.

“I am,” you reply. “You are?”

“Lisa! Sera’s friend,” she supplies, and she offers you a nice smile. “Something happened between you and Jungkook?”

Straight to the point, then. You’d expected her to circle around the pot, never really fully digging in, but she’s straightforward. You can only admire her for it, even though your heart starts hammering in your chest.

“What do you mean?”

She purses her lips, before chuckling. “Sorry, you probably think I’m crazy.”

You don’t know what to say, so you just remain silent, trying to figure out how to escape the situation. She notices your unease, and she winces.

“Yeah, sorry, I definitely made things awkward,” she says. “It’s just…”

“Peaaaach,” Jungkook yells from the door to the kitchen, and both you and Lisa startle. You meet his gaze over her shoulder, and he frowns, leaning against the doorframe. “What are you guys doing?”

Lisa turns towards him. “Just talking.”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow. “Well then, why don’t you come just talk with everyone else?”

You stifle a laugh, right as Lisa glances at you over her shoulder. You offer her a tight-lipped smile, and then she shrugs, before walking away.

Jungkook moves out of the way to let her pass, and then he walks in, heading towards where you’re still standing next to the fridge.

“I’m…” he trails off, and he stumbles a little when he stops next to you. “I’m fucking drunk.”

You hear it in his speech. “You want water?”

“Water?” He narrows his eyes, shaking his head slowly. “No, I want beer.”

“Jungkook,” you scold. “You don’t look like you should be drinking more.”

He snorts, and steps closer to you, towering over you. You tilt your head back, though you don’t budge from where you’re standing, effectively blocking the fridge’s door.

“Move,” he tells you.

“Drink water first.”

He lands a gentle hand on your waist, pulling you flush against him. The sudden motion makes you shriek, and you push on his chest.

“Let me get a beer,” he tells you. He drops his head next to your ear, and his warm breath tickles the side of your face. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”

“Listen,” you whisper, and you gulp as his lips ghost on the shell of your ear. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

Yet when he does it again, your eyes flutter close, and you angle your head to the side to give him better access to your neck.

“It’s hard to pretend when you look so damn good,” he murmurs. “Always.”

“Jungkook…”

He shakes out of it, taking a step away from you. The sudden absence of contact feels like a cold shower, and you gulp again, this time to swallow the lump that was threatening to form in your throat.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Wow. You’re right. I need water.”

You watch him as he moves to the cupboard, grabbing a glass for himself. He fills it at the sink, and he drinks it all in one go, as if that simple gesture will be enough to sober him up. You highly doubt so, but you’re relieved as he pours himself another glass, this time leaning against the counter to drink it.

“What was that?” you ask him.

He sighs heavily, pulling at his piercings. “I don’t know.”

“You can’t do that,” you tell him. “Especially not when there are people around.”

That second sentence is uttered in a low secretive tone, but evidently he still hears. He shrugs, tongue pushing against his cheek.

“Sorry,” he repeats.

He does look apologetic, if not troubled. Like maybe he lost control of himself for a few seconds, and you see it for what it is – you left your mark on Jeon Jungkook. Because there was desire, in his voice, as he held you close to him. Want, in his half-lidded eyes, like you could just step back into that outer world the power outage consisted of.

But you can’t, and as the sober one, you realize you’ll have to be the one to maintain a safe boundary. No matter how much you hate it.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, and you clear your throat as you open your can. “You just caught me off-guard.”

He smirks lazily. “Liked it?”

The conversation is taking so many 180-degree turns that you feel dizzy, and you shut your eyes, before taking a long swig of the lemonade. It fizzles in your throat, and though it burns you force yourself to drink and swallow.

You only open your eyes to meet Jungkook’s gaze again when half of the can is gone. And you glance towards the door, knowing you’re betraying yourself when you say, “So what if I did?”

“Pretend, peach,” Jungkook says, and it’s almost condescending. “What would your brother say?”

You hate the reminder of Taehyung, but it does the trick. It douses you, and you escape Jungkook’s gaze by focusing on the tiles on the floor.

What would Taehyung say indeed. You wonder if he’d jump into a plane and come back right away. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did, and some part of you believes it might be the only way to keep Jeon Jungkook away from you for the time being. Because without a chaperone around, it’s only bound to happen again.

Especially when he lets his mask of unbothered coolness go. Like he did just a second ago, making your bodily temperature spike. It’s yet to come down, and you take another drink of the lemonade, hoping that it will cool yourself.

“He’d probably say that he’d kill you, right?” you say, reminiscing about what he said to Jaehyun earlier.

“Oh,” Jungkook lets out, and he chuckles. “Definitely. As a matter of fact, I think I’m living on borrowed time now.”

You purse your lips. “So let’s pretend, right? Safer that way.”

He nods. “I really am sorry for that,” he says. “I don’t know where it came from.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him once more. “Just don’t ever do it again.”

“Ever?”

The question is accompanied by a pout, and you hate the way it makes your gut twist. Like butterflies catching flight, treacherous bugs to make you sick to your stomach.

“Stop,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Why are you such a shameless flirt?”

He’s grinning, yet he doesn’t say anything, only shrugging his shoulders and taking a sip of his water.

“What’s up?” Jimin says as he walks into the kitchen. He eyes you and Jungkook, and the safe distance between the two of you, before heading closer. “Is this like a lame roommate-only party the others can’t join?” he jokes, and you step aside to let him access the fridge.

“No,” you answer at the same time as Jungkook.

Jimin snorts. “What’s up with you two?”

“Nothing,” you quickly say, though your cheeks burn.

“Right.” He clearly doesn’t buy it, and he says, “Peach?”

You gulp. “Don’t ask me, he started calling me that last semester because of Mario Kart.”

“She always chooses Princess Peach!” Jungkook quickly adds, and you think perhaps you’re only digging the grave further.

“Last semester?” Jimin asks, and he’s got a knowing smile on his lips. He’s toying with you two, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Yeah.”

Your gaze slides to Jungkook as if he has any support to offer, but you think it’s too late. Strangely, Jimin retreats, shrugging his shoulders.

“Whatever,” he lets out. “Why are you drinking water?”

Jungkook motions to you. “She suggested it. ‘Cause I’m pretty drunk.”

Jimin cocks an eyebrow, sending you a disbelieved look. “He’s been drunker than this, he can handle himself.”

“Why are you trying to get so plastered?” you ask, unable to help yourself.

Jimin purses his lips. “Why not?”

Why not indeed. It seems Jungkook only needed that encouragement to return to drinking, and you watch in horrified awe as he drinks and drinks, downing shots with his friends as soon as you return to the living room.

You’re not surprised he’s struggling to stand on his feet by the time his friends leave. Jimin and Sera linger for longer, Jimin offering you an apology when he realizes the monster he unleashed.

“I told you,” you say, sighing. “Now I’ll sleep to the sounds of him throwing up.”

Jungkook hiccups, raising a finger. “I’ll have you know.” He pauses, shutting his eyes as he sways. “I don’t throw up.”

“Yeah yeah, Jungkook,” Sera answers, and you stifle a laugh as he glares at her.

“Let’s just get you in bed before we leave,” Jimin says.

“And tell Lisa to stop looking at me like that,” Jungkook tells Sera, speech so slurred you’re not quite sure what he said.

It seems his friends also aren’t sure, because Sera says, “What?”

Jungkook looks at you, frowning. “I don’t know.”

“You’re fucked up,” Jimin says, and he starts laughing.

He’s not faring all that better, and he sways on his feet as he clasps Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook loses his balance, but he luckily just falls against the wall, slowly tilting to the side.

“Oh shit.”

All you can do is look at him as he eventually collapses, though he’s laughing the whole time. Jimin follows soon after, and Sera and you just look at them, eyes wide.

“You guys always drink so much?” you ask, directing the question to Sera.

“They do,” she replies, pointing to them. “Believe it or not but Taehyung’s the one that usually gets them not to drink too much.”

You cock an eyebrow in disbelief. “Yeah yeah.”

“I swear!” she insists, laughing that easy laugh of hers. “He only got too drunk that one time last semester.”

“And he threw up in the car,” you reminisce, while the guys do God knows what on the floor. “Hardly see that as a good influence.”

“He’s not,” Jungkook says from the floor, and you look down to see him sprawled on his back, Jimin giggling next to him. “Your brother is an asshole.” He looks serious for a few seconds, and then he bursts out laughing. You just remain silent, and he’s the one to speak next. “Can you help me?”

He does grabby hand motions at you, and you scrunch up your nose as if in disgust. “You can crawl to your room yourself, JK.”

He forces himself to sit up, leaning against the wall, as Jimin does the same next to him. Though Sera folds and helps Jimin after he’s offered her puppy eyes even you wouldn’t have been able to resist either.

“I’ll crawl to your room if you don’t help,” Jungkook threatens.

“Alright, let’s see you try.” The challenge hangs in the air between the two of you, as Sera and Jimin watch the scene unfolding.

Jungkook turns his head in the direction of your room, but then resumes his attention on you. “Too far.”

“Then sleep on the floor.”

“Are you for real?” he asks, and he sounds exasperated.

You groan, rolling your eyes, though you finally step closer to him. “We should have asked your friends…” you trail off looking at Jimin. “Your sober friends to help bring you to your room before they left.”

“Peach, I much prefer if it’s you tucking me in,” Jungkook teases as your hands close around his.

His are clammy, warm, but you ignore it, instead pulling him up. It’s a struggle, Jungkook a dead weight, but soon enough you manage to help him stand. He wobbles on his feet, and you hold onto his arm, trying to steady him.

“I won’t tuck you in,” you say through gritted teeth when he’s finally standing on his own.

You’re about to slide your gaze towards Jimin and Sera when Jungkook cups your cheek, and you think the Earth has stopped revolving around the sound. It stops abruptly, and you’re propelled forward, in those big eyes looking down at you like you’re the only thing in the universe.

You want to hate him. Right now, you want to hate him so bad for telling you to pretend nothing ever happened. Because it’s too natural to lean into his palm, too natural to get lost in his eyes.

How many girls has he ensnared with that sparkly gaze? How many of them have fallen for the trap, only to be abandoned when he’s done playing?

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

He blinks once, slowly, and then turns his head towards Jimin and Sera. Jimin’s mouth is agape, and Sera looks like she’s about to burst out laughing, that knowing glint in her eyes so bright it almost puts Jungkook’s gaze to shame.

“Shit, you’re still here?” Jungkook lets out.

“Not anymore!” Jimin quickly replies, and he tugs Sera towards the door. “We’re leaving. You guys do… whatever it is that you’re doing. We didn’t see anything.”

You move away from Jungkook, and his hand hangs in the air between the two of you for a few seconds before it falls aimlessly at his side. You take a step towards Jimin, calling his name.

He looks at you when he has an arm in the sleeve of his coat, the other one yet to be put on. “Yeah?”

“It’s nothing,” you say, trying to put as much conviction in your tone as you possibly can. “He’s just drunk.”

“Oh.” Jimin laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Sure. I won’t say shit to Taehyung. I like Jungkook’s head on his shoulders.”

You gulp, your throat feeling so dry you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d die. “Who said anything about Taehyung?”

“Isn’t that what you were going to say?” he enquires.

You shoot a look towards Jungkook, who looks like a kid who’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t do. He’s pouting, eyes angled to the floor, and his hands are hidden in his pockets, as if he doesn’t trust them to not touch you right now.

“No?” you let out once you turn back towards Jimin and Sera.

Both of them finally have their coats on, but you think it’s too late. It’s too late – no matter what he says, Jimin will tell Taehyung. He’s a busybody, through and through, and you just know Taehyung’s ought to know by the time the sun rises tomorrow.

You can only hope you’ll be able to weather the storm when it’ll hit.

“I was just going to say…” you start, not really knowing where to head. “Honestly, nothing more than that – he’s just drunk. If you want to tell Taehyung that Jungkook’s handsy when he’s drunk, I don’t think that’ll surprise him.”

Jimin throws you a no-bullshit look, as if he was there during the power outage. As if he saw the way Jungkook held you, and the way he fucked you like it was the end of the world.

“To be fair, Jungkook is handsy all the time,” Sera cuts in. “Did you see how he was sprawled on Lisa earlier?”

You don’t know why she’s throwing you a lifeline. But you remain silent, not wanting to dig the grave deeper, and you just offer a nod and a tight-lipped smile to Jimin. He does look confused for a few seconds until he shakes his head as if trying to clear his thoughts.

“Whatever,” he eventually says. “I’m way too drunk for this shit anyway.”

And then he’s turning around, opening the door to step outside. Sera watches him go fondly, before turning towards you again.

“Sorry about that,” she apologizes on behalf of her boyfriend. “He really is drunk.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure her as you walk to the door. You hug her goodbye, before holding the door open for her. “I’ll see you guys around.”

“See you!” Jimin yells from the bottom of the stairs, and you wince hoping you won’t get a noise complaint.

“Shut up,” Sera hisses through her teeth, and Jimin throws an apologetic look in your direction before his girlfriend grabs his arm, forcing him to follow her as she walks away.

You look at them for a few seconds before shutting the door behind you, and it takes you a moment to gather the courage to face Jungkook again. A moment of you looking at some chipped paint on the door, wondering how it is that the stars aligned to put you in such a compromising position with your brother’s best friend.

How is it that he had to seduce you, only to walk away like nothing happened after? It makes your blood boil in your veins, and you turn around with ire in your gaze, directed at the man leaning against the wall.

He’s still staring at the floor, his features blank. You wonder what’s going on in that thick head of his. Is he regretting this? Is he realizing that no amount of pretending will ever be enough to cover the fact that you did the irreparable, together?

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you ask him, venom dripping from your voice.

He looks startled, big eyes going wide as saucers as he meets your gaze. “What?”

“Now Jimin’s going to be onto us!” You vaguely motion behind you, before folding your arms on your chest. “I know you’re drunk, but you’ve got to fucking control yourself.”

“Hey, fucking chill out, will you?”

You see red. You see blood red, like a bull and its red flag, and you cross the distance between you and him. He waits for you, lips spreading in a lazy smirk as he leans his head against the wall, only so that he can look down his nose at you. You stop right in front of him, finger pointed towards his features.

“Don’t tell me to fucking chill.”

“Or what?” He tilts his head to the side, the perfect picture of arrogance.

“Or I don’t know, Jungkook,” you drawl, shutting your eyes in annoyance. “Don’t you care that Taehyung might be onto us because of Jimin?”

He huffs a breath, and you open your eyes to glare at him. His tongue toys with his piercing, before pushing on the inside of his cheek.

“He won’t be,” Jungkook affirms like it’s the truth to the universe. “Why would he? Because we’re hanging out? Nah, we did that even before he left.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Not like that.”

“Like what?” he pushes.

You sigh, fists clenched so hard they’re leaving moon-crescent indents in your palms. “Like we’re friends. You touching me. All that shit.”

“I thought you like when I’m touching you,” Jungkook says, voice dropping an octave.

You stare at him in disbelief, quite at the same time as your heart starts racing in your chest.

“Shut up.”

He raises his hand in defence. “Sorry. It’s hard to help myself when you’re looking at me like that, peach.”

You try to school your features into neutrality, but you don’t know if it works. Don’t know if he can tell that your blood is rushing to your cheeks, threatening to have the effects of his words show on your face.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me,” he murmurs, and a finger of his finds your clenched fist, tapping gently on it. He doesn’t stop there – his digit slowly moves up your arm, and all you can do is stand, frozen in place. “Like you’re mad I suggested pretending that nothing happened.”

You hate him. You really do. You don’t understand how he’s able to say this shit when he’s drunk, but then again, maybe he’s wanted to say it sober, but his inhibitions were keeping him in check. Now, nothing forms a barrier between his mind and his mouth, and the words come forth to taunt you, tease you.

To make your heart race in your chest as you look up at those big doe eyes.

“I’m not mad,” you insist, swatting his hand away. “I agree with the statement. He’s your friend, he’s my brother. We shouldn’t have fucked at all.”

He nods. “See? I knew you saw the wisdom of it.”

Now, it hurts. It almost hurts enough to cut through the blinding anger in your blood, though you cling to the anger like it’s a buoy. You cling to it like it’s the path to safety, and maybe it is.

Maybe it is, because Jeon Jungkook is danger personified.

So, you roll your eyes, gently patting his chest. “Then stop. Fucking. Touching. Me,” you say, tapping on his chest with every word uttered.

He sucks on his piercing, and you think his gaze has gone darker. It’s clouded with lust, all directed at you. When he looks at you like that, you feel like the rest of the world goes out of focus, like all there is is him.

Which is quite frankly the reason why you need to stay away from him. To never let him approach you again, to never lower your guard with him again. For Taehyung, yes, but also for your heart that’s barely recovered from Sam Hwang.

It’s strange, to think that you started the evening with Sam, only to finish it so close to Jungkook. To finish with so little distance between you and Jeon Jungkook that you fear you might crash in his orbit once more.

“You’re the one touching me right now, peach,” he says, voice so low it almost sounds like a growl.

And you are. You’ve laid your hand flat on his chest, and you can feel the racing of his heart under your palm. You make to move your hand away, but he quickly puts his hand over yours, clammy fingers keeping you close.

“Let me go,” you breathe out.

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

His sentence makes you insane. Makes the red spark to life again, and you quickly step away. It’s like you were in a trance – you blink once, twice, and Jungkook appears in all his drunk glory again. He looks at you carefully, the lust fading as he beholds the emotions on your face, the mask you’ve let slip.

“Don’t ever tell me that again,” you warn him.

“Why?”

“Just don’t,” you insist, scoffing. “You can’t kiss me, I can’t kiss you, we-“

Jungkook interrupts you by grabbing your face and crashing his lips on yours. You’d expected it – you’re the mere comet, and he the star. Though you might have come from Kuiper’s belt, Jungkook has been pulling you in, and there’s no escaping his gravity.

So even though you shouldn’t, you kiss him back. You kiss him back, pushing him back towards the wall. He hits hard, and he huffs out a breath that you swallow as your tongue darts in his mouth. You taste the alcohol on his breath, but more than that you taste him – the inebriating taste of Jeon Jungkook makes your mind spin in no time, and you’re forced to take a step back.

To take a step back and look at his pink lips, now swollen from the kiss. His eyes remain closed, and his breathing is ragged, chest going up and down quickly, much like yours is, too.

“Don’t kiss me again,” you say.

And you walk away. You don’t look at him once before slamming the door to your room shut, hands shaking so hard you think you’ll break. The shaking threatens to take over your whole body, and you almost expect Jungkook to follow you.

He doesn’t. He doesn’t, and the sound of his door softly shutting is like a flatline, haunting you terminally. Like there will be nothing more after that than the memories of his lips on yours, of his hands tracing the curves of your body.

Though it might be sad, though every inch of your body is craving for his touch, you need to be sane. You need to stop before you both get in too deep. Because, even though you could have him now, even though he’s just on the other side of the wall, the moment Taehyung is back, it would have to be over.

You don’t want to get involved with someone that you’re only bound to lose anyway.

You don’t sleep after that, sleep evading you in favour of your spiraling thoughts. You let them carry you like the tornado that they are – you’re in too deep already.

What will be left of you when the tornado spits you out?

Prev | Chapter 6.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

Ughhhhh they are annoying I love them. What did you guys think? Let me know <3

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

Someone New 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You've had a crush on your best friend for years, but you're slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: nice to see ya again!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Thor makes himself as permanent as the layers of sediment. Whether you’re in the dirt or looking over the charts and maps, making notes or sorting through your findings, he appears. Knowing he’ll be there keeps you coming yourself. Despite the short nights and long drives, thinking of him finding an empty site deters you from a day off, even against Sam’s pleas.

The night before was filled with similar chiding from your friend. Sam is as persistent as ever. He always has a new account of his antics with Bucky and never forgets to tell you to take a break. You can’t stop though. You know if you do, you’ll have to think about everything you’re denying.

The time away has given you time to breathe but it’s suffocated you in new ways. Along with that weight on your chest that has a name, there’s another you can’t quite understand. The one that sees you spending your spare hours alone and your working hours longing for anything but. You’re desperate to get out but terrified of the very same.

When he arrives that day, you’re ready to give up. The tension in the air is giving you a headache and the dampness makes your skin feel sticky. You just feel gross.

“Ah, I didn’t think you’d brave the weather today,” he muses as Thunder hops around his feet. You don’t look up, in a mood as grim as the sky. “You’d do well to stay in tomorrow. Trust me.”

He’s always right about the weather. It must be the familiarity and yet it’s almost eerie how accurate he is. You might take his advice. You don’t like being wet and you’re starting to go cross-eyed from the hours and hours of concentration.

Thunder yipes as you use your gloves to brush away clumps of dirt. Thor’s footsteps mulch patches of grass that sparsely carpet the dirt. He hums as his shadows looms in your peripheral.

“Yes, my darling, I believe you’ve found the perfect spot,” he praises.

You look over curiously. What is he talking about? You only notice then that he has more than the tiny dog with him. He has a basket on his elbow and a blanket under his arm. You sit up and watch him place down the former and shake out the latter.

He spreads the blanket over the dirt and Thunder jumps onto it, rolling around on the fabric, digging her nose into the patched quilt as she wiggles across it. You clap off your hands and watch him as he gets down to his knees and flips open one side of the basket. He lays out several containers and two thermos’; one is the very same he brought you tea in.

“I thought you could use a nice lunch before the weather turns,” he stands and nears the fence, “summer doesn’t last long here. You may as well enjoy it.”

“Lunch?” You utter.

“Brunch?” He suggest coyly. “Surely you can take a break. You are only human, you need to eat.”

“You...” you lean to see around him, “you brought me lunch?”

“I know it isn’t the most elaborate picnic but I thought it might be a pleasant surprise. I must confess I’ve been rather bored these days,” he admits, “so?”

“Thor, that’s so... sweet,” you frown, “but...”

“Work, work, work. Surely they can’t expect you to work yourself to the bone, pardon the pun,” he insists, “it will only be a bit.”

“Yes, but...” you leave the sentence to hang. You don’t have a good excuse. You don’t know. It just makes you nervous. It’s a whole lot of effort for just you.

“Oh, I don’t mind if you would rather stay over there. Only mean more for, eh, Thunder?” He asks the canine tramping around the blanket. “More than happy to sit here and enjoy my jelly cookies and hot coffee.

“Coffee?” Your brows raise.

“Freshly brewed. Promise, There’s nothing pickled. Though I don’t mind a nice herring,” he grins.

Thunder bounces over and barks at you. She stands on her hind legs as she paws at the barrier between you. Now, how can you deny her?

You stand and shed your gloves. You carry them over to the table beneath the tent and grab a wet wipe from the back. You come back under the open sky as you wipe your hands.

“Sorry about all the dirt,” you scoff as you cross the dirt.

“I don’t mind,” he assures you. He pulls apart the panels of the fence to let you through. It isn’t something you could ever forget but you can’t help but be stricken again by his sheer size.

You bend to pet Thunder as she gets between your feet. She licks your fingers and you giggle. She’s cute.

“Go on, pick her up,” Thor goads, “she loves it.”

You scoop up the dog and stand. She squirms as she wags her tail incessantly. She swipes your chin with her tongue and you scrunch up your face. You carry her to the blanket and look over the spread. A leafy salad, pasta salad, sandwiches, cookies... There’s so much. Your protein bars and peanut butter and jelly can’t compare.

“Oh gosh, this... a lot.”

“Is it? Isn’t too much. We’re friends, yes?”

“Friends?” You face him as you pet Thunder’s soft head.

“Perhaps it is rather one-sided. You are obligated to be here, I just sort of haunt this place,” he chuckles.

“No, no, friends,” you smile, “that sounds about right.”

You turn away and lower yourself onto the blanket, sure to keep your boots off of it, as you hide your face. There’s a tinge of disappointment. You hear a far off echo in your head. How many times did Steve say the same; we’re friends, just friends, you’re such a good friend. Well, that’s all this is. No need to be so sensitive.

“Do you ever take time off?” He asks as he gets to his knees.

You look at him as you put Thunder down. He barely keeps her from chomping down on a rye crust. He lifts her easily and she kicks her legs.

“Eh, you beast,” he points a finger at her snout, “be good.”

He sets her back on her paws and she obeys. He tells her to sit and she does so. Her eyes continue to hungrily rove over the food. How can he resist them?

“Like you said, the weather won’t last. Should get done what I can before the ground gets cold.”

“Ah, yes, that is a concern,” he tuts, “how would you deal with that?”

“Heat lamps, tiger torch... jackhammer if I really need but I’d have to put in a request for that...” you hadn’t thought too much into the inevitability of winter.

“Ah, that’s...” he smirks, “I’m sorry but the idea of you with a jackhammer,” he snorts.

“Hey,” you pout.

“It isn’t to be mean but... you’re so gentle. When you dig, you’re so delicate about it.”

“Am I?” You wonder.

“Mm, is it a bit weird to say so?” He wonders aloud. “Yes, you are very precise, very cautious.” He takes out a set of plates and offers you one, “please, help yourself.”

“It must be boring watching. Really, I’m the one digging and it gets dull,” you accept and pluck out one of the sandwiches. Salmon, you think.

“You make it interesting,” he muses. “You talk to the bones.”

“I talk to the bones?” You repeat, “what?”

“Yes, I suppose you’re not aware of it. But your lips move when you’re focused. As if you’re chatting up the dirt,” he chuckles, “sometimes a few words do slip out.”

“They do?” You blanch before you can help yourself to the salad.

“You don’t say much. Usually something about the dishes, I’m not too sure.”

“You never mentioned,” you look away shyly.

“It’s... cute,” he shrugs.

“You mean crazy,” you shake your head.

“I say what I mean,” he counters. “No use in not. We can’t be happy if we’re not honest, not least of all with ourselves.”

You’re quiet as you turn your attention to your plate. His words feel sharp despite his placid tone. You know it’s only because they’re true, especially for you. If you’d just accepted everything sooner, if you hadn’t been so dumb, if you hadn’t been so emotional, it would never have gotten so bad. No, if you’d just been honest.

“I hope... I hope that didn’t come off wrong,” he says.

“No, no, I’m... this all looks so good and I’m starving,” you assure him as you sit back with your plate. “Thank you again. This is... great.”

“Well, I was thinking, you must miss your friends. I might be a paltry substitute but I thought i might fill that gap, even just for an hour.”

“It’s really...” your eyes tingle but you push away the tinge of sadness, “it’s really nice.”

“So tell me,” he scoops up salad onto his plate, “tell me about home.”

“I...” you begin, surprised by the prompt. “It’s just home. New York. It’s busy and loud. Not like here.”

“No, not that. Your friends. I want to know all about them. If I’m ever going to come up standards, I’ve got to know the competition.”

You laugh. He speaks as if he needs to impress you. It’s nice to be somewhere where no one knows you’re not that special. You take a bite of the sandwich and chew, thinking out your question.

You swallow, “well, my friend Sam, he calls every night to bitch at me. He’s great. Supportive but pushy. He likes to terrorise Bucky. He’s the strong and silent type, you know? Grumpy to boot but they’re... they’re awesome.” You smile without thinking, “before I left, they took me to this cocktail bar...” you blow out between your lips and roll your eyes, “real girly stuff.”

“Ooh, cocktails. I’ve been known to indulge. I love finding new recipes.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes, I love the sweet ones. I’ve only just perfected my blueberry basil concoction. I’m afraid I can’t share the secret ingredient unfortunately.”

“Blueberry?” You ponder the flavour, “sounds yummy.”

“Perhaps one day you can try it,” he suggest.

“Maybe,” you say evasively. “Anyway, yeah, Sam and Bucky are... characters.”

“They sound like it. How’d you meet?”

“Oh, it’s boring. What about you?”

“It’s not my turn,” he deflects, “tell me.”

You don’t know why he cares. It’s as confounding as everything else about him. You still don’t get why he’s here watching you sit in the dirt. It sounds as grueling as watching a golfing tournament, in your opinion. Yet here he is, a man who looks like that, staring at you in your mud-stained khakis.

“College. We met through a mutual friend,” you explain vaguely.

“Ah, so you’ve been friends for some time. Yes, I see, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” he hums thoughtfully as he toys with the braid that hangs loose by his face, the rest of his hair twisted back as always.

“Steve,” you say without thinking, your eyes drifting off into the distance, “he was my best friend. We met in art history. We spent almost every day together. Studying, whatever. He was more of a partier than me but... fifteen years, more than, and we saw each other...” You choke on your words and scoff darkly, “sorry, that’s... I’m homesick, I think.”

You bat away the glaze in your eyes and focus on your food. You take a few bites as he sits quietly. Thunder stands up cautiously and crosses the blanket. She settles against your leg, leaning her head on your thigh. It’s comforting.

“Yes, I think I would be very homesick as well. I lived in the city for a while but mother and father, they need me. And I love this mountain. It’s home. There was nothing in Oslo for me. I can work from here.”

“Work? What exactly do you do?” You ask, happy to divert from your own painful past. “Oo, are you like a farmer? Or a shepherd. There must be sheep up here or something.”

He laughs, “there are some sheep, yes, but those are protected by the government. We’ve not much of a choice where they settle. No, I’m not so savvy as all that.”

“Hm, you... oh, what could do you here?” You look around, “on a mountain... oh, tours? Do you give tours?”

He laughs, “it’s not a bad idea, but no. I’m a business owner.”

“A business. You must sell fitness or something.”

“Must I?” He narrows his eyes, “and what else do you assume about me?”

“Oh, it’s only you’re so...” you cringe as you eke out the word, “big?”

“Genetics,” he affirms, “not that but close, in a matter of looking at it. You recall that tea I brought you, with the cloudberry?”

“Uh, yeah, it was sweet. Yummy.”

“I’m happy you enjoyed it,” he smiles proudly, “I make superblends. All Nordic ingredients. There is a demand for wellness and organic products. I found the right niche and I’ve not done too badly.”

“Must not if you can live all the way up here,” you remark.

“Yes, but... it’s a reason I moved back. Business is a lonely venture. Now I’ve got it all figured out, I have my managers and my business plan, I break even, I realise how much I put to the side,” he mulls his sandwich and takes a glum bite. It’s the first time you’ve seen him anything but bright and beaming, “I feel like I’ve fallen behind. Like I’m playing catch up.”

His words sink in and storm inside of you. You crunch on the crisp lettuce and gulp. You wipe your mouth with a napkin and clear your throat.

“I know exactly what you mean,” you say breathily.

“Do you? You’re out here, on an adventure all you’re own, how brave,” his voice is wistful and his gray blue eyes reminds you of the clouds above.

“Yes, I know,” you say, “better than you. Trust me.”

You smile, a bittersweet tug in your cheeks, and he stares back at you. Your eyes cling to each other and you feel as if the world is moving around you. He smiles and a glimmer of something unfurls in your chest. You make yourself look away.

“Well,” you push the salad around your plate, “what about you? You must have friends, aside from the girl in the dirt.”

He hums and scrapes up a bite of the pasta salad. He takes his time chewing before he answers. You scratch Thunder’s nose as she sniffs at your plate.

“Yes, if you ever come to sample my cocktails, you might meet a few,” he coaxes, “I think you’d get along. Hogan and Vol, and Fandy. All good company. Sif’s not around so often when my brother’s around but he’s as fleeting as the sun.” He tuts, “I would call Loki a friend as well but he does scowl at the very thought.”

“Loki?”

“My brother of course,” he explains with , “yes, he is quite the dour one. He might get along with that Bucky.”

#thor #steve rogers #thor x reader #steve rogers x reader #angst fic #grayish fic #fic #au #series #someone new #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers

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revehae · 6 months

Text

tw // noncon. yes its rape dont ask me no stupid fucking questions

yesterday (over a month ago technically) i couldn’t stop thinking about apologetic rapist haechan like ugghhhhhhhhhh

walk with me. this is a man you trust to have in your home, spending time watching movies and playing video games together in between your stressful lives… you’ve confided in each other about all of your problems, big or small, and chat about everything under the sun. you give him advice that he doesn’t listen to, then has the audacity to complain afterwards. he’s got a spare key to your place and you’ve got one to his, and all your boyfriends over the years feel like they have to compete with him, but the thought is ridiculous to you. compete with haechan romantically? it’s laughable. sure the guy has seen you half naked, but it’s not like that, you’re comfortable, you’ve never seen him ogle you or heard him make some unsolicited comment about your body that even strangers have made… why would anyone have to compete with haechan? he’s your best friend, nothing more, nothing less.

you’re not sure how you could’ve been so wrong. the way you see it, the haechan you thought you knew wouldn’t take advantage of how comfortable you feel around him, the fact that you let him share a bed with you every now and then. it’s not necessarily strange for his hands to wander around you, he’s clingy and unconsciously does it in his sleep, but it is strange for them to be so firm at your hips, nails digging into your skin, sounds that aren’t soft snores falling from his whiny lips.

confusion dwindles. betrayal stings your eyes. haechan sees it, too. he lifts his head up, tosses the hair out his face, and meets your eyes. there’s no arrogant shimmer to his eyes or smug smile to his face; the opposite. there’s shame and guilt and sadness, you want to think, and he beats you to a word, uttering, “i’m sorry…”

but he’s not sorry enough to stop. not even when you struggle against him, trying to wrestle your way out of his arms. you and haechan would play fight all the time, but you never realized just how strong he really was until you try to wrestle out of his arms and he pins your arms in place, whispering, “please. i don’t want to hurt you.”

but he would if he felt he had to. you’re in disbelief, the ugliest feeling festering inside your chest as it tightens so hard you can hardly breathe. when you beg him to stop, he says, “i can’t.” because you feel so much better than he’s ever imagined, and he’s imagined it a lot, and he just “can’t resist” himself. his eyes are misty, out of pleasure or out of shame, but either way, he needs to do this. he has to.

he can’t look you in your eyes. he can’t look at your face at all, really. he knows what he’ll see, the tears pouring from your eyes that gleam with a fierce blend of betrayal and despair and ire and disbelief. haechan doesn’t want to see you that way. having to hear your sniffles, knowing it’s all his fault, is bad enough. but in spite of the pangs of guilt that really do tear at his chest, he’s still in the middle of you, holding you in place, using your body for his own relief. so he just keeps his clasp on your hips, squeezing his eyes closed, and mutters, “i’m sorry…,” over and over and over again, hoping it’s enough. hoping that you’ll bring yourself to forgive him.

it’s not like it’s long before it’s over. haechan’s not proud of it but you’re all he’s been able to think about and it’s not like he’s ever hit a pussy raw before, if ever. you feel so filthy when he pulls out of you - his cum gushing out of your hole - and so broken. haechan says he’ll help you clean, but you’re rushing over to the bathroom and locking yourself inside before he has a chance to do anything. he hurriedly pulls on his pants and spends a long ten minutes knocking on the door, trying to get you to open it even after you scream at him to leave you alone, but he can hear the shower running from the other side. and he decides to leave you alone for now.

haechan tries to make it up to you, he really does. he doesn’t want you to hate him. you have to understand. your body was calling to him, enticing him, and he tried so hard but he couldn’t control it anymore. he’s gone when you return from a really, really long shower that you took in hopes of feeling less dirty, but to no avail. every bit of relief you feel at his absence, which isn’t much considering that pieces of him linger everywhere - on your sheets and in your aching bones and everywhere in between - fades when you hear the front door click open and he returns with your favorite takeout in hand. it’s his way of showing you that he’s still your best friend, that he still knows and loves you, that he’s sorry.

you’re not hungry. you have no appetite after that. haechan tries to get you to eat, but the second he comes near you, you flinch away from him. you never thought the day would come, but you are scared of him. he’s not the haechan you thought he was, no matter how hard he tries to convince you that he still is. you beg him to go, to leave you alone, but he doesn’t listen. he never does.

#tw: noncon #lee haechan smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #haechan smut #nct smut #nct dream hard hours

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ma1dita · 1 year

Text

without a doubt

part one can be found here -> it will pass

words: little under 3k

summary: James has a lot of questions, but he quickly finds out Peanut is the answer.

warnings: none! angst–hurts before things get happy, peter (since some of yall might need a warning), all the marauders are alive and happy, lily is too smart for this, peanut and jelly 4 ever

a/n: thank you for all the love (and tears shed) for it will pass! i genuinely rewrote this about four different times and almost lost the plot, but please let me know if it meets your expectations!

(posted 9/11/23)

—

DAYS UNTIL JAMES PROPOSES: 4

I know it will pass, it’s just heavy. You’re all I know.

There’s something about the noise in your brain as you move around your silent apartment. It overpowers the fear that hasn’t quite left your body after he let the front door fall shut. Being paralyzed in the aftermath of the truth that left your lips…It’s maddening. And you can’t even talk to the person you want to hear it most. You love him.

I do love you (Y/N), just in a different way.

Those 10 minutes were a fleeting moment in the life you’ve shared with your best friend thus far. But now, he’s stopped writing, stopped calling, and you’ve never heard him be so quiet in the past few days after the fact. There’s a knock at the door, and the sound interrupts the way you breathe, dishrag in hand, and James’ sweater still on your body.

I know that, James. I just don't know how to stop.

“What a vision you make, (Y/N).” Remus jokes in an attempt to try to make you smile. He’s leaning against the doorframe as you pop your head through the opening and he slowly moves to follow you into your home. Why does it feel like you have to explain yourself this time? But Remus is deeply understanding in nature, and he opens his arms for you to burrow yourself in.

“Get yourself fixed up. Not taking a no for an answer, love. You’ve been MIA for long enough and you know how Pads is about his birthday. He’ll want you there, broken heart be damned.” Remus is rubbing your back, and you groan.

“Ever the fucking diva.”

His chest rumbles with laughter, but both of you know that you say it lightly. Years ago, when Sirius moved into the Potter’s, it was understood that every birthday was to be as great as he was to his found family.

Nothing has to change, Peanut.

Remus sniffs you lightly, nose crinkling, “Place is spotless. Your turn for a deep clean and then off we go.” A horrified noise leaves your throat as you push yourself out of his embrace.

As the steam from the shower slowly suffocates you, you realize that Remus innately knew the reason for your emotional sabbatical from James and the rest of your friends. You wonder if everyone’s known that you’ve been in love with James Potter, and scrunch your face at how oblivious you both have been. The cold water washes away the grief that’s had a handle on your being this past month. Out of all the pranks they’ve played, this tops it. What a sick joke for the both of you to be left out of.

I think you should go now. Please.

—

DAYS UNTIL JAMES PROPOSES: 3

All of Sirius’s birthdays are spectacular, but you really can’t fight the hurt crawling up your chest. There are too many memories here at Potter Manor, too many familiar faces asking where you’ve been, and James looks petrified, eyes following your figure around the Manor like you’re a ghost he can’t touch. You walk up the stairs like you have many times over the years, finding a hideaway in the west wing. You and James used to gaze at the stars here.

“So why the hell are you moping on my birthday? No one’s allowed to be sad today.” Sirius grins, breaking the silence as he walks across the balcony to throw his arms over your seated figure.

“Happy Birthday Padfoot.” you smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek. You clink your glass against his as he takes a seat next to you on the bench.

“Trust me when I say you always look stunning, (Y/N) but there’s this look in your eye that you get when you’re around Prongs nowadays. Might I say it’s why you dropped off the face of the Earth?”

Your face instantly drops at his words, and you’re glad he can’t see much in the dim light.

“How long have you all known, Pads?”

“I don’t know about much when it comes to love, (Y/N). But what I do know is that I’m his brother, and you’re his best friend. There’s a lot of responsibility being those two things for someone like that idiot. You love him like humans need air.”

“I just… I don’t know what to do with it.” The elderflower wine glides down your throat, its taste sweet on your tongue. Sirius sits with you, knowing what’s coming next. As an older brother, he also knows you’ve been waiting for someone to listen.

“What do I do with all the love I have for him? Where does it go now that he doesn’t want it?”

“I’ll take some. It sounds lovely.” Peter’s voice almost echoes in the silence as you both turn your heads to see him and Remus in the dim light of the hallway, a bottle of firewhiskey in hand and it makes you genuinely smile for the first time in days.

“Yeah, pass it around. Godric knows Prongs doesn’t appreciate you enough.” Remus says bluntly, and you hit his stomach when he ruffles your hair.

“Honestly, what a prat! Makes you plan his proposal and doesn’t want you at the afterparty? The nerve.” You choke on the remnants of your wine as you laugh at Sirius’s outrage for you, and all four of you are giggling in the dark like idiots as Remus pours you shots. If anything else goes wrong in this life, you’re glad that you have the Marauders to live it with you.

The laughter reaches the hallway, and in walks Lily, who teasingly asks “Did the party move in here without us?” James is as still as a statue behind her, watching you laugh with his boys. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen you happy and acknowledges that he’s to blame.

“You shouldn’t be surprised, Lils. There’s always a party when Padfoot’s around,” you remark, and everyone gets up to go back to the party. Lily looks around as if she’s missing something, then looks at James.

“I’m glad that (Y/N)’s back from whatever’s been keeping her busy. Looks like everything’s falling back into place.” she muses, and James can’t help but watch his best friend, no, his best girl, walk away, thinking that everything must be falling apart.

—

DAYS UNTIL JAMES PROPOSES: 2

It’s morning now, and a lot of the crowd has gone home or fallen asleep in the many rooms of Potter Manor. You decide to stay to help clean up for Mr. and Mrs. Potter, who were always like second parents to you as well. They had a thing for taking in kids who needed love. With your best efforts, you can’t seem to escape James, who has incessantly trailed behind you into every room you walk into. You dodge him again as you walk down the hall, but James, who has always been a chaser in more ways than one grabs you by the arm and pushes you into his childhood bedroom.

A shriek leaves you as he closes the door and has you up against the wall.

“What the fu—”

“You’re avoiding me. Why are you avoiding me?” his face is panicked as his breath hits your face.

“You told me to leave you alone. That’s what I’m doing now, James. What else could you want from me?” Your hands are on his chest, crinkling the dress shirt that you once helped him pick out at the shops, and you feel breathless, angry at knowing him too well, and angry at what he’s insinuating.

James is at a loss. He loves you. He’s never gone more than a weekend without you and now it’s been ages…. And he loves you. He’s looking at you differently now, in the sunlight that floods through his old bedroom. He loves you so much that it hurts.

His hands slide from the wall behind you, until they reach your shoulders, and trace down your arms. Intertwining your fingers together, James speaks.

“I didn’t mean…” he exhales. “I just…”

“Did you not want me here too? Because unfortunately, my friends are also yours, so maybe we can clarify exactly the terms you want me to follow next time, James.” you seethe, getting in his face.

You push him away, his arms chasing after you, pining for your touch. Your heart is racing with hurt, with anger, with love, all for the man standing across the room.

“Peanut…”

“No.”

“I never want you to leave me alone, okay? It’s been agony without you and I can’t even put into words how—”

“I can, James. How long have I been so oblivious to the fact that I’m in love with you and how long have you just let it happen? You can’t just… please don’t pretend that you don’t know that I’ve been waiting all my life for you to let me fill the empty spaces in your heart.” Your voice wavers as you pull yourself away from him, sitting on his bed.

“Just tell me what’s happening, Peanut. You’ve always had the answers. I feel like I can’t breathe when you’re not there and I….. my heart feels like it’s going to combust… I… I just feel…. so intensely. I miss who I am when I’m with you.”

James throws himself down onto the bed, hyperventilating with his head in his hands. Your hands are shaking as you reach for him. You’ll always reach for him.

He raises his head, as you delicately grab his face into your hands. Your fingertips brush his tears away, loving him for the mess he is.

“My life has been so quiet these past few days and I’m so scared to live life without you. Did I fuck it all up for us?” You whisper.

James licks his lips, and he’s playing with your hair in his hands. Your knees are touching on the patterned bedspread. The space between you diminishes as you realize that he’s about to ruin everything.

Your best friend is going to kiss you.

He’s holding your jaw so gently and for a second, you wonder if this is what it would feel like to be loved by him in the way that you do. With every single ounce of control, you turn your head away from what you’ve been craving most. James’ lips land on your cheek, and he’s chasing after you again, muttering apologies as he looks into your eyes and sees everything he’s been wanting. He sees his whole life with you through the split second your eyes connect. Pushing him away again, you stumble away with a sob.

“What was that?”

“I just… “ He’s gasping for air, feeling like his heart has exploded, and the silence is so loud that he feels like his heart must be in pieces, and you’re picking up the wreckage to take home. He’s in love with you. His heart has always been yours.

“You what, James? Don’t do that!”

He’s lived in a mansion his whole life but Godric, is this room suddenly feeling too small? You get on your feet, stepping away from him and he’s following you.

“Do what?”

“Don’t make me hate you, Jelly. Loving you has been painful enough.” Tears are blurring your vision as you hiccup, and maybe it’s better to not see him right now. Maybe you really shouldn’t have come.

“I just wanted to know. I know now, love, I…” James whimpers at the sound of his nickname. Your nickname for him alone has this man wanting to drop to his knees.

“No. Don’t you know how cruel you’re being right now? To me? To the love of your life? I would never do that to Lily!” Your voice is getting louder by the minute, and James is stoic in his silence, steps away from your blaze.

“But you told me you’re in love with me. Are you saying this is because of me?”

“Everything I do is because of you, James. And if you don’t know that by now…” Then maybe you don’t know me at all.

The words go unsaid but the both of you are hit with the reality of it. Your hands jangle the doorknob to get away from him, to be anywhere but here.

—

DAYS UNTIL JAMES PROPOSES: 1

Lily listens intently as James tells her everything he's been wanting to say for the last eleven years. She's not surprised, in fact, she knows this is the truth, but she's still heartbroken. Lily Evans and James Potter are both people who like to chase things, people—but after all that’s said and done, the thrill wears off. They’re more alike than they’ll ever know.

He tries to apologize, but Lily cuts him off and tells him there's no need. She's always known the truth, and even though it took him this long, she's glad he finally figured it out. Smartest girl of their year, after all.

“I mean, I always felt like she should’ve been dating you, but then we happened and I fell too hard and didn’t stop to ask questions. I tried to be blind to it, but…it was nice, wasn’t it?” Lily whispers, holding James’ hand for the last time. He looks like he’s about to pass out.

“I’ll be okay, Potter. I was before you, and I will be after you. So thank you for being honest. You’ve always been honest with me.” A small kiss on his cheek renders him breathless. Once upon a time, he would stay up all night at the idea of Lily Evans loving him. But his heart has always belonged to you. Without a doubt, James Potter is in love with you, his best friend.

He doesn’t tell Lily he was planning to propose tomorrow, since the situation is already as messy as it is. But Lily Evans always knows.

—

JAMES HAS A PROPOSAL

James is pushing boxes back into Potter Manor, and Mippy helps flit the rest of his belongings up the stairs with magic. The least he could do is give Lily their apartment after their breakup. He looks around, rubbing his fingers of dust as his mother calls him for dinner. How humbling, he thinks, to start all over because he was too stupid to realize he’s in love. Starting over in a place he calls home is absurd. He looks out towards the courtyard where you had your fairytale wedding, walks by the hallways you used to race training broomsticks in, and back to his room where he used to whisper hushed lullabies to help you sleep. Everything reminds him of you, and your love consumes each memory that flickers through his vision. The feeling shocks him like ripping your head out of a pensieve. He’s so utterly in love with you.

What the hell is he doing at his parents’ house? He should be getting his girl! James apparates to your apartment, knocking on the door like a madman. He knocks so loudly the wood is bruising his knuckles, red blooming under his touch.

The door rips open, and he’s never been so glad to see you angry.

“You literally have a key, James. You don’t have to be a dick every—”

“You’re wrong.”

Your frustration gives way, lines on your forehead wrinkling in confusion. It’s like there’s a glass separating the both of you, and you’re scared to touch him.

You shake your head as he continues, “You’re wrong, by the way. I don’t know if Lily’s the love of my life. I haven’t lived it with her, nor will I. What I do know is that I’ve loved you for most of mine.”

“What are you saying, Jelly,” you utter, and James’ is grinning so largely you want to punch his face in.

“I love you. As in I’m in love with you. Without any doubt, or excuses, or anyone holding me back, my heart is yours, if you’ll have me?”

He rushes to catch you, his proposal hitting you hard as you fall into his embrace, hands feeling as much of him as you can. His broad shoulders, his strong neck, the dimples on his cheek, the glasses on his face—all of him is in love with you.

Your blubbering is muffled as he finally pulls his lips to yours, finally feeling, finally… James’ kiss lays out all of what he’s been holding in, and without words you both understand that this wreckage in your beating hearts, the destruction of everything you’ve set together as best friends, is love. He’s clutching you to his body, moving you backward into your apartment, feet moving in sync like an orchestrated dance. You both fall onto your couch in a fit of laughter and tears. Finally.

“How foolish of me to be with another, Peanut. I’m a married man, after all.”

"Not bad for a second kiss, Jelly." You laugh at him.

James looks at your smile like it’s the answer to every question he’ll ask in this life.

—

“We give those we love nicknames, because love requires a word that belongs to us alone.” Fredrik Backman

tagged: @prongs-moon @alltheotherkidss @anehkael @princessprongs

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#marauders x reader #mischiefmoons iwp #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader angst #marauders era

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evanpeterswhoresblog · 8 months

Text

Cherry Bomb (pt. 2)

James Potter x f!reader, Sirius Black x f!reader (mentioned)

warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, oral (male receiving), oral (female receiving), switch james? brief fingering, heavy making out, i love this smut w my heart

summary: you proceed with the second part of your plan. james potter.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: i’m so bad at writing summaries i’m sorry, i promise it’s worth it lol. i suppose this could be a stand off but i like reading them in order. hope you enjoy :) also ps if there’s any mistakes i’m sorry grammarly told me it was fine but i don’t fully trust that hoe smh

~~~

James Potter was a different story. He thought of himself as a gentleman though not many seventeen-year-olds were gentlemen. He thought this solely because he was nothing like his best mate. He had to at least know a girl's name before taking her to bed. Though, he typically liked to know a bit more than just that. So, in order to shag James Potter, one must abide by a few more rules than with dear Sirius Black. One, she must be friendly. Two, she must have some knowledge of quidditch. Three, she must be willing to stroke his massive ego despite how humiliating it may be. And four, the most important rule, she must be ready to play along with his games. Because James Potter was a chaser in all senses. And oh, how he loved a good chase.

~~~

You peak around the corner of one of the hallways, a bit out of breath. You just ran down a few flights of stairs to get here. For a few seconds you search the hallway, then he appears. He’s alone. Good.

It’s been two weeks since your night with Sirius, and it hasn’t been easy. You regret your whole show of making him remember your name, it’s caused more harm than good. But it felt good in the moment, it felt more than good. Shagging Sirius all together became your best shag the second he pressed you against the wall and kissed you till you were out of breath. You regret picking him first. In retrospect though, you had no idea how much he’d care for a second time. He’s always been known as a one-nighter. It’s been hard having to deny him, and it’s been hard convincing him that he has you mistaken for another girl. But you’ve managed.

You feel bad about it, but you try not to pay it much mind as the second part of your plan is about to begin.

You clutch your books to your chest and begin to walk down the hallway, your face down. You know what his shoes look like. So, when they begin to come closer you loosen your grip on your books and shift your body ever so slightly so that you’re in his way. Inevitably, the two of you bump into each other, and your books quickly fall to the floor.

“Shit,” you say as you fall to your knees to start gathering your things.

“Sorry love, didn’t see you there. Let me help,” he replies, crouching down in front of you.

You look at him. “Oh, it’s alright, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Me either.” He laughs, handing you one of your papers. His eyes linger on yours. “I think I know you.”

“I doubt it.”

“No, I do. You’re the girl my mate Sirius thinks he shagged.”

You look away, pretending to be flustered. “I don’t know why he’s so set on me. I mean, I was at that party, but I went back to my dorm with my friend. And I think I’d remember a night with him you know, with his reputation.”

“Yeah, I dunno, he tends to get hammered and forget a lot,” he says. You look back at him and watch as he runs one of his hands through his dark curls. A habit of his. “I’m sure he’ll stop bothering you soon enough.”

“Yes, when the next girl is in his bed,” you reply. The two of you share a laugh and you pick up your last paper. You hold them close to your chest and stand, he follows. “Well thanks for helping, you’re very kind.”

He smiles that brilliant smile of his. “It’s only right.”

You return the smile. “I’ve got to get to class thanks again James.”

“You know my name? Are you one of my adoring fans?”

He’s smirking now, his arms folded across his chest. His ego is taking over. Perfect.

You shyly look down for a few seconds before meeting his eyes again. “Isn’t everyone a fan of the famous chaser from Gryffindor?”

“You’d be surprised how many aren’t.”

“Well, that lot must simply consist of fools.” You look down at your watch. “Seems I’m going to be a bit late to history of magic. ‘Suppose it’s alright, I don’t care for it much anyway. But I best be going, wouldn’t want to keep you from your class.”

“That’s quite kind of you y/n,” he says.

You raise a brow. “Oh? Do you happen to be one of my adoring fans?”

“Perhaps, or perhaps Sirius has been talking our ears off about you.”

“I think I like the first answer better.”

He smirks. “I see. It was nice running into you then. Literally.”

“Yes, it was.” You step past him, your eyes lingering on him for a few more seconds. “Goodbye then James.”

“Goodbye y/n.”

You leave fast with a smile on your face.

Phase one is complete.

~~~

For the next two weeks, you have more of those run ins with James. Each time having a different reaction. Some end in a sweet goodbye, some end with you barely acknowledging him at all, and some end in a quick walk through the halls together. You know how it messes with his head. One day you’re a girl who strokes his ego with flattering compliments, and another day you brush past him as if he doesn’t exist. By the sixth encounter, you relish in the knowledge that he’s starting to bump into you. Not the other way around.

“I’m starting to get Sirius. I suppose he wishes it was you that he shagged.”

The two of you are walking alone, not another person is in the hall. You look up at him, your cheeks flushing when you find him already looking down at you. He runs his hand through his hair. You hate how it makes your stomach fill with butterflies. You turn your head away.

“I don’t know why he would wish that with me.”

“I could name a few reasons,” he says.

You’ve stopped walking at this point. You turn your body to face him, another shy smile on your face. James Potter is such a charmer. You’ve known this. Yet his words affect you as if you have no idea about his reputation of being a flirt.

This is bad, you think.

It’s been hard enough resisting the urge to take Sirius up on another night together, even harder keeping up the lie that it never happened. You should stop this before it gets any worse, you know that. However, from the look James is giving you, you know you won't be able to stop this no matter how hard you try.

“Yeah?” You eventually challenge. “What reasons might those be Mr. Potter?”

“For starters, you are incredibly fit.” You watch his eyes trail up and down your body for a few seconds before returning to yours. “You’re kind, you’re funny, you make your interest noticeable, but you aren’t desperate.”

“I never claimed to be interested in you though, that’s an assumption.” You point out.

He takes a step closer to you, your breath catches in your throat. “So, if I were to, I dunno, snog you right now, you wouldn’t be pleased?”

Despite everything in your head screaming at you to snap out of it and push him away for the plan's sake, you can’t. No matter how hard you plan it seems that James Potter’s charm outdoes it. You don’t dare to move a muscle.

“I’m not sure, you might have to test and see.”

He takes another step. “I don’t want to be hexed though, if this experiment ends in the possibility of you not liking it.”

You take a step forward. The two of you are so close you can practically feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Probability and possibility are different you know.”

He lifts one of his hands to your chin, tilting it up ever so slightly. “So, it’s a possibility that you’ll push me off and hex me, and it’s a probability that you’ll...”

“Snog you harder.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll take my chances then.”

He begins to lean his head down, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning yours up, meeting him halfway. The first few seconds are gentle. You like how soft his lips are, how you can taste the mint chap stick on them. But once that initial new feeling fades so does the gentleness.

Within a few short minutes you’re no longer standing in the middle of a hallway being kissed as if it were your first. Instead, you’re pressed against the wall in a broom closet, with your shirt half unbuttoned and James Potter’s hand up your skirt. Your head falls back against the stone as he sucks the sweet spot on your neck, his thumb rubbing perfect circles on your clit. You run your hands through his curls, they’re just as soft as you expected.

“James,” you moan.

“Yes love?”

You struggle to catch your breath. “I don’t- we can’t- fuck.”

“Hm?” He presses his thumb down harder; you feel your orgasm approaching. “You alright?”

“Yes- just don’t stop,” you reply.

He lifts his head, his dark eyes meeting yours. “Whatever you want.”

It’s safe to say, after that, phase two is completed.

~~~

Another week passes before you reach phase three. You don’t know why but playing James’s game is awfully fun. You know you’ve got him, and he knows he’s got you, but neither of you will say it. So, before anything can move too far in the closets, one of you stops it with an excuse and the other doesn’t question it. Part of you keeps it going because you want him to say the words, and another part of you keeps it going because deep down you don’t want it to be over yet.

But everything must end eventually.

The game's ending comes on a quiet Friday night. James catches you after dinner, dragging you off to one of the now familiar closets. He wastes no time, instantly pressing his lips to yours the second the door closes. There’s a desperation on his lips you haven’t felt before, it excites you. Naturally, you kiss him back, your hands moving up to his hair, his moving down to your waist.

Only a few seconds pass like this, then he pulls back. You can barely see his eyes through the darkness, but what you can see tells you something different is going to happen. He’s starving and you are more than happy to give him a taste.

“Can I have you y/n?” He whispers.

“Have me?”

He nods, his hands roaming up your sides. You shiver. “I need it, need you. Now.”

“You can have me, as long as you promise to keep this between us.” You place your hands on his shoulders and push him till his back hits one of the walls. “We wouldn’t want Sirius to be jealous that you actually got to shag me. You haven’t told any of them about this have you?”

“I have not, and I won’t. I swear,” he answers. “You can trust me.”

You smile and press a small kiss to his lips before lowering yourself to your knees. “I know I can. You’re a very sweet guy James and for that I’m going to show my appreciation.”

“You don’t have to-”

You begin to undo his belt. “I want to.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

You unzip his trousers and pull away the fabric. You’re not surprised to find him already hard. You also aren’t surprised at how big he is. From the girls you’ve known to have shagged him, only good things came from them. You don’t waste any more time. You take him in your mouth and as far down your throat as possible. Blow jobs have never been your favorite activity, but from the sound that leaves James’s lips you know you’ll enjoy this specific one.

And you do.

You don’t know how much time passes by the time he’s cumming down your throat, but you do know you’ve enjoyed every moment. He moans your name louder than he should, his fingers tangled in your hair as he cums. Typically, you’d spit but this time you swallow. When you’re sure he’s done you pull back and rise, whipping your drool with the back of your hand.

James is breathless when he reaches for you. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you, nor to return the favor. Your legs shake as he buries his face between them, licking and sucking your clit at a perfect rhythm. It’s not long before it’s your turn to come undone due to his mouth. You have to hold yourself up on the wall as you finish, you practically see stars.

You pull him back up a minute later and wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses you once again and you savor the taste of yourself on his lips. It’s like a prize. And a memory you will forever cherish.

“Fuck me James,” you whisper eventually. “Like you mean it.”

“Your wish is my command,” he replies.

His hands fall to your thighs, and he lifts you up. You comply, wrapping your legs around his waist as he positions his hard again cock at your entrance. He enters you slowly, both of you savoring the feeling. He stretches you in an indescribable way that makes your toes curl. You hold him tight as he begins to fuck you.

Due to his active role in quidditch, his stamina is very built. He fucks you through two more orgasms before he even begins to show a sign of finishing. Tears role down your cheeks from the overstimulation, he asks you if you want to stop. You shake your head. He continues. Each thrust hits that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back into your head. When he does eventually finish, he fills you up, his dick pulsing inside you.

He holds you tight after, his face tucked in your neck.

“You’re amazing,” he mumbles, his breath ragged. “I think I’d like to keep you.”

In this moment, you forget about your plan, and you turn your head to press a soft kiss to his sweaty head.

“I wouldn’t mind that.”

~~~

As you lie in bed that night with your diary in hand, a fresh checkmark next to James’s name, you wonder how you’re supposed to go on to the next part. Too many emotions have gotten involved from you, James, and Sirius. You know adding another person into the mix will only cause further issues. However, you also did save the best for last. Intentionally. At least, you think so anyway. James and Sirius have given you times you didn’t know you could ever have.

But then your eyes trail over the last name again.

Remus Lupin.

The show must go on.

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kitashousewife · 1 year

Text

this has been in my head for DAYS let’s pretend geto is happy and healthy :]

geto’s sat in front of you on the ground, big arms draping over your knees while you sit on the couch. to anyone else this would look relaxing, intimate even.

sadly though, the large man in front of you has had better evenings.

“i not going to have any hair left,” geto whines, inching his head away from what he feels to be assault going on at the mercy of your fingers.

“maybe if you would brush it,” you make your point with the sharp tug of the hairbrush and he groans. “taking it out of a bun wouldn’t be so hard.”

geto came over earlier, irritated as could be due to the mess of hair on top of his head not budging. he figured if he came to you instead or shoko, or even gojo, he wouldn’t feel as embarrassed.

hindsight is always 20/20, and right now he would rather be embarrassed than this.

“we’re almost done, i promise. then i’ll wash it for you,”you pat his shoulder and he whines again.

“can’t you just wash it now? my head hurts,” he leans all the way back, pouting as he looks up at you. “what did i ever do to you?”

you gently push him up and grab the brush again. geto pulls his knees into his chest with a humph as you continue your work.

“you asked me for help,” you laugh when he settles back in. “besides, i’m almost done. just a couple more sections.”

long strands of black hair drape over his back and your knees, soft and delicate after your work. when geto is feeling lazy, he will throw his hair up quickly without thinking of the consequences. instead of fighting a losing batter with himself in the bathroom, he took a new route. trusting his best friend instead. he knows he shouldn’t be so careless with his hair, but despite the pain and discomfort, he craves your touch.

“all done,” you sing song as the brush makes one final pass from scalp to ends, and geto sighs with relief.

“finally,” he stands up slowly, stretching after sitting on the floor for so long. “you make it seem so easy!”

you give him an unamused look and he smirks.

“come on sugu, before i change my mind,”

geto walks to the kitchen, grabbing one of the bar stools and setting it in front of the kitchen sink while you grab what you need. due to his height and convenience, you have found this to be much easier.

“tilt your head back,” you use the faucet to wet his hair before you begin shampooing it. as your fingers massage into his scalp slowly, geto’s lips part ever so slightly. you let him relax for a few minutes, working the shampoo into his hair as his breathing becomes more steady.

he’s been busy lately, pulled every which way for missions. some being a couple hours, some a couple days. things have been crazy lately, so you’ll indulge for a little while to give him some rest.

his lips are pulled into a small smile throughout the rest of the wash, humming to himself while you finish up. when you begin to towel off his hair, brushing it one last time, he sighs.

“thank you,” he stands in your kitchen with a grin. “i could fall asleep right now,”

“want me to drive you? or, call satoru?”

“god no,” annoyance graces his features for a moment, thinking about what an absolute scene gojo would cause finding you here, doing geto’s hair for him. “i’ll be just fine, i promise.”

he looks very pretty like this. rarely do you see his hair all the way down. it falls down like silk, covering most of his back and decorating his sweatshirt with dark little drops of water from the ends. geto is much more relaxed than he was earlier, now with a pleased smile.

“are you off on another mission tomorrow?” you’re leaned up against the kitchen table while geto stands near your front door.

“actually i am off the hook for a few days, they decided to send satoru instead.”

you’re not quite ready to end your time together, considering how much you’ve missed him while he’s been busy.

“wanna stay and watch a show?”

geto snorts. he knows if he stays, he’ll fall asleep on your couch like always, leaving you to watch the show alone. but, like you, he’s not quite ready to leave.

“sure, one episode can’t hurt.”

#geto x reader #geto x reader fluff #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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heliads · 8 months

Note

Hi! Hi! I have been reading your Eric Coulter fics and I don't know if you're still into Divergent but i can i request a eric coulter x fem!reader where they go from rivals to lovers and literally everyone in Dauntless has bets on them to be together?

'rumors of rivals' - eric coulter

masterlist

Four’s got another pet project, but for once, it isn’t you.

It’s a habit of his, one he’d do best to kick. Although Four may like to keep his indifferent silence and pretend as if he were a shallow-hearted Dauntless through and through, he’s got a soft spot for the people he likes. He’s got a knack for finding similar souls and winning them over, even as he acts as if he couldn’t care less about any of you. He did this while you were an initiate, and now he’s repeating the process with one of his new trainees, a girl named Tris.

Since you don’t work the initiates, you haven’t yet had the pleasure of meeting Tris Prior, although you’ve heard Four talk about her often enough that you have a good gauge of her likes, dislikes, and every single conversation she’s had with your friend. For someone who claims that he couldn’t care less about anyone but himself, Four’s awfully attentive to Tris.

It makes you laugh, both when he’s around and not. Despite Four’s claims otherwise, it seems that even the toughest of Dauntless fall victim to their hearts every now and then. Despite Four’s claims otherwise, that’s one test you won’t be failing. Four may have fallen in love, but not you. Not a chance. The only decent one around here is Four, and he’s clearly besotted with Tris. No other men even come to mind.

Four and Tris catch up to you, and he begins the introductions. “Y/N, this is Tris, the initiate I’ve been talking about. Tris, this is Y/N. She’s a good friend of mine.”

Tris smiles at you. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Four has said a lot of good things about you.”

You laugh. “It can’t be more than what he’s said about you, trust me. I think all of our conversations are now about you.”

Tris laughs too, evidently surprised at your camaraderie. “I’m sure he’ll argue with that, but I’m glad to hear it. I have to say, I knew what to expect from a Dauntless Leader, but you’re way nicer than I expected.”

You grin. “Oh, trust Four to talk up my reputation. We’re not all totally dramatic around here.”

Four rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right. As if you’re not locked in one of the worst rivalries Dauntless has ever seen.”

Tris widens her eyes, curious. “What are you talking about?”

You fold your arms across your chest. “Four doesn’t mean anything because he doesn’t know what he’s saying. There’s nothing there.”

Four scoffs. “Of course there’s something there. Tris, Y/N’s just denying it because she’s too embarrassed to admit that she’s totally obsessed with beating Eric at everything.”

Tris claps a hand to her mouth. “Wait, I know what you’re talking about. Everyone in the faction has been gossiping about Eric and one of the other Leaders. You don’t mean that–”

“Yes,” you admit reluctantly. “The rumors are about me. They’re just jokes, though. Nothing to take seriously.”

Four arches a brow doubtfully. “Of course they’re not.”

You swat him in the shoulder. “Anything more on the subject and I’ll push you off a roof, Four. Watch your tone.”

Instead of taking your threat seriously, Four just cracks a rare grin and keeps his triumphant silence. In all honesty, he’s not wrong about the gossip, and neither is Tris. You have been rivals with a certain Eric Coulter for most of the time you’ve been at Dauntless, if not all of it, and beating Eric at anything from a fight in the ring to glowing recommendations from the other Dauntless Leaders does indeed make your day like nothing else.

At this point, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. There’s no way you could ever like Eric, he makes it impossible to so much as smile around him. He’s insufferable, that’s all, and he always has been.

You remember that from the very first day you arrived. Eric had been through initiation a year before you, so of course he swaggered about the faction like he knew everything and you knew nothing at all. It didn’t matter that you mastered every challenge that initiation set before you, it didn’t matter that, at the end of your training, you came out with the highest rank. No matter what, Eric would always boast that he’d done it better when he was an initiate. And, since the two of you weren’t in the same year, there was no way of proving him right or wrong.

Once you graduated initiation, your ill-fated relationship only took a turn for the worse. Both of you were gunning for positions as Dauntless Leaders, and did everything in your power to claw to the top. It was a common assumption that only one Leadership position would be vacated, meaning that one of you would succeed and one of you would do the worst thing possible for a Dauntless: you would fail.

Instead, both of you were appointed as new Leaders, and now you’re forced to spend even more time with him than before. Eric is more hands on, especially with his new position as an initiation leader, whereas you’re more devoted to strategy and all the ways to keep Dauntless as a faction running as smoothly as possible. The two of you clash whenever you so much as step into a room together.

Over time, this rivalry has drawn the attention of the entire faction. There’s hardly a soul in Dauntless that hasn’t witnessed the two of you going for each other’s throats at some point. Last you heard, some faction members were even going so far as to place bets as to when the two of you would get together, but that’s absurd. You and Eric hate each other. There’s simply no way you’d actually manage to get over your mutual loathing to fall in love.

“He’s an unpredictable asshole, I don’t know what else you want me to say,” you growl to Four.

Instead of being answered by your friend, however, a new voice joins you, one that makes you want to put your fist through a wall. “Are you talking about me again, L/N? I’m touched.”

Four and Tris exchange some interesting glances, which you definitely don’t appreciate. You turn to glower at none other than Eric, who’s somehow emerged out of the throngs of Dauntless milling about to appear right by your side. It’s as if he was summoned from your mere thoughts alone.

“So you heard me talking about an unpredictable asshole and immediately assumed it was you? That’s lovely, I didn’t know you had such great self-esteem.” You hiss.

Eric just grins. “You’re always so kind to me. Truly, it makes my day.”

You glance to your opposite side, hoping to deflect onto Four, but you notice that he and Tris have somehow disappeared into the crowds again, leaving you alone with Eric. You’ll have to chide him about abandoning you later, once you manage to shake Eric again.

Eric notices the changing subject of your attention and chuckles. “They left already? Can’t say I blame them.”

“Neither can I,” you fire back. “Having to spend time with you isn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy.”

“See, that’s the difference between the two of us,” Eric intones, holding up a finger appreciatively as he speaks, “There’s no punishment I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. It’s because I’m capable of doing anything to eliminate those who would rise against me. It’s what makes me a better Dauntless. I’m not surprised that you lack the courage.”

You groan in annoyance. “It’s a saying, Coulter. Goodness, I see why you’re not an Erudite. Critical thinking is not your strong suit.”

Unfortunately, Eric doesn’t seem particularly affected by this insult. “I’ll leave the critical thinking to you, L/N. The glory of battle is mine as always.”

You arch a brow. “Remind me who kicked your ass the last time we met in the ring? I’m sure the glory of battle was totally on your side then, too.”

Eric’s voice turns razor-sharp. “How about a rematch, then? Tonight. That is, if you can’t manage to talk yourself out of facing me again.”

You stop walking, meeting Eric’s eyes dead on. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Scared?”

“Not a chance,” he fires back. “I’ll see you then.”

With that, he stalks off, leaving you fuming yet again. You could name a hundred encounters that have taken place exactly like this one. It’s strange, you’ve always prided yourself on your control of your temper, but something about Eric Coulter just drags out every bit of irritation and passion from your heart.

Glancing around, you see that more than a few people have turned to look at you and Eric as you passed by, and are now whispering to each other. “Shut up,” you mutter at no one in particular, but it doesn’t seem to do anything to stop the flurry of gossip.

Great, now you’ll have another rumor to add to the mix. As if you needed any more. Grimacing to yourself, you set off again. You’ll be looking to tonight’s fight with Eric, if not for a release of anger than anything else. It would feel good to beat him up again, you decide, and it’s about time his ego got knocked down a peg or two.

Eric is waiting for you in the empty gym when you let yourself in later that night. The two of you arrive at the same time whenever one of you challenges the other to a fight. It’s become a sort of tradition. You know exactly when and where to find each other because you’ve done it so often. It comes to you like breathing, like living. Instinctive, intuitive. You and Eric may not see eye to eye on most subjects, but in the ring, it’s like he’s your double.

You and Eric face each other warily on the ring. There’s no one else here, not after hours, so the entire gym is empty. Even the smallest of sounds are amplified by the solitude, each shuffle of your feet from side to side sending ripples of echoes up to the high ceiling before bouncing back down again, creating ghosts of your every movement. The lights are dim. The shadows lengthen Eric’s already numerous tattoos, making him look as if the darkness could swallow him up entirely if you were to turn away for even one moment.

You lunge first, mostly as a feint to get his attention. At your level of fighting experience, both of you know better than to truly attack first. Eric aims a blow at your midsection, but you duck just in time, dropping low to kick his legs out from under him. Briefly, Eric loses his balance, but manages to regain it in time to send a returning strike your way.

On and on, the fight progresses, the tide rolling from you to him back to you again in an endless circle. Eric manages to pin you first and huffs out a triumphant breath, but you get him the next round. You’ve spent enough nights like this that every move seems familiar. Although the precise victor of the fights may switch off from night to night, the actions themselves have been done so many times that it feels like muscle memory.

You’re sure it’ll be a night just like any other, but then something strange happens when Eric wins again. Both of you have ended up on the surface of the mat, and after briefly striving for the upper hand, Eric manages to make it there first, and he swings his weight over you, pinning you to the ground. His hands lock your wrist onto the mat like cuffs. You try to throw him off again, but it doesn’t work, and the two of you rest there, panting from the exertion, but worst of all, looking at each other.

You wait for Eric to move off of you and begin the cycle again, but strangely enough, he doesn’t. Instead, Eric looks, he looks at you like he’s never seen you before in his entire life. You feel as if you couldn’t move a muscle, and lie there perfectly still. One twitch of a limb, one wrong breath, and he might react, or worst of all, leave. You don’t know why, but you know for certain that shattering this moment would destroy you both.

Slowly, carefully, Eric releases his hold on your arms, but you don’t swing at him. The erratic rise and fall of his chest has slowed as easy breath returns to him, but when he had held you down moments ago, you could still feel his pulse thundering in his veins, tumultuous and irreverent like the clash of a thunderstorm.

“Y/N,” Eric whispers, low in his throat and urgent. You don’t know what to say. You’re not sure that there is anything to say, not without giving something away, a secret so terrible and all-consuming that to utter it aloud would use up all of you, leaving nothing behind but the ghost of a person who had once been you.

He’s waiting. For what, you don’t know. Or, you don’t want to know. Both of you are on a precipice, the edge tall and mighty, but unlike the roof back at the entrance to Dauntless initiation, you do not know that the fall won’t kill you. You could survive this jump, sure. But you could also break your bones in the leaping, and come out of this a ruined version of someone who had thought they knew everything about Eric Coulter, and then learned otherwise.

The indecision is too great, and so you do something utterly befitting someone of your station, and you run. Eric doesn’t move when you suddenly slip out from under him, nor does he stop you when you leave the gym. It isn’t a Dauntless move to flee from a fight, but then again, you transferred here from your home faction in the Choosing Ceremony, so the habits of the brave haven’t been instilled in you completely. You still, it seems, have a lot to learn.

The walk back to your apartment seems treacherous. There aren’t that many people out at this time of night, but you swear that of those who remain, every eye is on you. Haven’t you heard the rumors? Isn’t it true that these people have guessed what you are when it comes to Eric Coulter? If they see you, they will know.

You crawl into your bed and hope for sleep, but nothing comes. You stare at your ceiling in the dark, wondering what you’ve done. You’ve claimed to hate Eric for a very long time, but the way you felt in that ring, with him looking down at you– None of that was hate. You haven’t felt an absence of anger like that in such a long time that you’ve almost forgotten how to name that emotion entirely.

You get up the next morning, exhausted and confused, and complete your daily duties in somewhat of a haze. Every one of your moves feels mechanical. Eric is busy with the initiates, so your paths shouldn’t cross. When he finds you later that day, then it must mean that he sought you out intentionally. You’re not sure if that’s for better or worse.

You do your best to shake him, but he tracks you down eventually, pulling you into an empty room and shutting the door behind him. “Y/N,” he says urgently. “We should talk about last night.”

You don’t want to, not when the way he says your name reminds you of the way he’d whispered it last night, soft and careful, none of the things you have ever associated with Eric. It wasn’t as torturous as you expected, being alone with him without a fight to separate you. In fact, if you weren’t on guard, you would even admit that you liked it.

When you remain silent, Eric sighs, frustration beginning to tinge back into his breath again. “I know something happened. We can’t just pretend otherwise.”

You glance back up at him. “Can’t we?” You ask. “We can go back to fighting all the time. I’m sure it would come easily to both of us.”

You’ve become an expert at provoking him over the years, but now, in the face of all your attempts, Eric’s gaze remains neutral. “Is that what you want?”

Yes, you start to say, but for some reason the words dry up in your throat and the only thing that comes out is a terrible, awful exhale, “No.”

Eric hasn’t let go of your hand since he pulled you into this room. He seems to remember it now, his thumb rubbing light circles back and forth against your wrist. “Neither do I. Turns out, the only thing I like better than fighting you is when we aren’t fighting at all.”

You’ve never understood it when people say their heart skipped a beat, but you feel it now, the stuttering of desperate hope locked between your ribs. “So– you want–”

“You, Y/N,” Eric interrupts. “I want you. I always have.”

When he kisses you, it tastes like victory. Hot, brave, triumphant. A thousand nights undefeated in the ring couldn’t light you up with a fire half this bright. Sometimes, the rumors are true, and sometimes, the very man you thought was your greatest rival was instead your best love. Eric is all of these things, but most importantly, he is yours.

requested by @simoneashwinis, i hope you enjoy!

divergent tag list: @dindjarinneedsahug, @poisonmenegan, @ozzynka, @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @manyfandomsfanvergent, @imwaysthelastchoice, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @crazyhearttragedy, @alexs-1967s-blog, @aoi-targaryen

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#eric coulter #eric coulter imagines #eric coulter x reader #eric coulter oneshot #divergent #divergent imagines #divergent x reader #divergent oneshot #dauntless #dauntless imagines #dauntless x reader #dauntless oneshot #divergent eric #divergent eric imagines #divergent eric x reader #divergent eric oneshot

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sephifrog · 3 months

Text

Sephiroth Alphabet Headcanons

A -Affirmations (what he calls you)

Treasure, pet sweetheart

B -Blush (does he blush when you're close by?/How do you make him blush)

He would will it away in public not wanting to have people catch him lacking however when alone he will allow himself the pleasure of letting his guard down and feeling the flush on his cheeks while you fuss over him

C -Comfort (how does he comfort you or what do you do that comforts him)

Another one who loves his hair played with, face hidden in your chest and letting the warmth from your body ground him, if in public link pinkies and he can breathe again all in all you as a whole are calming

He’s very awkward when comforting you he only knows how you comfort him so in the beginning he mimics what you do for him, playing with your hair. holding you close but as your relationship progresses he starts to branch out, distracting you by talking about his swords because you told him his voice calms you, letting you rant about anything and everything

D -Dates ( what do you do on your dates)

Dinner at his flat! He likes being open with you but it’s hard to do in public so he cooks for you/you cook together or you watch him train he shows off but he would refuse to admit it

Your first date was pretty much perfect he almost burnt the steak because he was nervous but it was the best you ever had and he feels his chest fill with pride when you tell him as such

E -End (what would end your relationship?)

Like Genesis Being in Silver Elite but for different reasons -if you lied, feel he seldom trusts people, and if you break it it's over, and if you side with Hojo in any way

F -Fear (what he’s afraid of)

You being afraid of him, you’re the only person that’s treated him as a human and not a weapon so seeing fear in your eyes would break him- also if Hojo was to take you from him

G -Gossip

He’ll listen to you no matter what you’re talking about but rarely takes part in it unless it’s about any of his friends because man would use that against them

H -Hold (how he holds you)

He’s afraid he would hurt you at the beginning so it’s always a light hold when you’ve been together for a while he holds you more firmly as long as you're against him he doesn’t care how he holds you

I -Injured (what would he do if you were hurt?)

Death to whoever hurt you he would destroy the world for you -if he isn’t allowed to kill them he would make them suffer in training

J -Jealous (is he Jealous?)

Not really it’s more of a homicidal rage if someone is trying to take you from him :)

K -Kiss (favourite place to kiss)

He loves kissing you full stop but if he had to choose your collarbone and pulse points (wrist, neck, etc)

He feels loved and safe when you kiss his scars and head

L -Laugh (something that makes him laugh)

When you try and square up with him or when you steal his clothes

M -Memory (his favourite memory with you)

When you took care of him after his treatments

N -Needy

Surprisingly yeah- I feel like he is he never shows it through

O -Over (what is something you had to get over as partners)

His fears of hurting you

P -PDA

Only if hidden, pinky linking under the table, brushing hands as you walk past

Q -Quip (can he joke around with you? Do you have inside jokes)

His humor is dry and fleeting but if you laugh he feels his chest warm

R -Romantic (is he romantic?)

Not really in a traditional sense but he looks after you and watches over you That is the only way he really knows how to express his affection but he’s learning

S -Sephiroth

He is hard to win over but when you have he’s hard to lose he would make sure you’re taken care of but can disappear on missions for days. He would never stray and only has eyes for you, you are one of the most protected people in the world

When he snaps he either kills you first in a rage or takes you somewhere secluded and tries to live out his days with just you (and your children because he would want a family)

T -Treasure (what is something he had that reminds him of you and what did he give you to remind you of him?)

He gave you one of his first weapons something he wouldn’t even let others look at but he wanted you protected and only trusted weapons he used and modded

You gave him love something he never really experienced and even after all the gifts you made and brought for him your love is the thing he treasures most

U -Unlikely (what is something that he would probably never do)

He would never Hurt you purposely

V -vulnerable

Only with you when in the safety of his flat/your house

W -Wedding (would he want to get married?)

Honestly, whatever you want he would be happy with but if he had to choose, a small intimate wedding with those he trusts

X -(e)X (would he be friends with an ex)

He’s never had one and if he did No there’s a reason they split and it would have to be something serious for him to let go of them

Y -Year (how would he act on New Year's?)

Doesn’t really care for celebrations and if he’s not forced to a Shinra party he would want to spend the night with you

Z -Zoo (would you get any pets?)

Feel like Angeal would talk him into getting a dog-

#final fantasy 7 #final fantasy fanfiction #finalfantasy x reader #ff7 x reader #ff7 #final fantasy crisis core #sephiroth x reader #sephiroth

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annabelinlove · 6 months

Text

No Games (pt.2)

Pairing: Wolfstar x reader (Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x Reader)

Summary: The aftermath of the attack

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, past description on violence, non sexual nudity, language, English isn’t my first language, no use of Y/n, Peter doesn’t exist

Readers note: You wanted part 2, so here it is! I’m sorry for the rushed ending but i have another thing planned and i really wanted to post this on. Lmk if you like it. Read part 1, if you haven’t already and checkout my masterlist. Every kind word is appreciated. Enjoy!

Pt. 1

Masterlist

You’ve spent the whole week at the infirmary and not even for a second were you alone. You had no idea how they did it, but your friends and boyfriends kept your company even thought you were sure they had classes they ought to attend. Whenever you tried to bring it up, they just shushed you and told you it was dealt with. You didn’t know what that was supposed to mean and weren’t even sure if it really was dealt with, but you were glad for the company so you decided to let it go. Regulus himself sent you a card telling you he hoped you’ll recover soon but you were yet to talk to him. You brought it up carefully when you were alone with Sirius, you knew his family was a sensitive topic for him.

“Have you talked to Regulus?” You asked, looking at your beautiful boyfriend who was working on his Herbology essay, his legs on your bed. He looked up from his work and smiled gently.

“Yeah, we met yesterday at the Tower, talked the whole night. That reminds me, he wishes you the best but said he’ll talk to you when you’re out of here, if you’re still up for it.”

He didn’t tell you the details of their conversation, but the small smile present on fis handsome face told you everything you needed to know, so you didn’t bring it up again. You’ve received many get well soon cards, some of them from students you didn’t even know at it warmed your heart. Even Marlene and Mary came to visit you. The whole day you spent with your friends and Madam Pomfrey and at the night, you always shared the bed with your boyfriends, who left in the morning to go to classes but still came back after few hours and this cycle repeated itself for the whole time you were in the hospital wing. It made you forget about the main reason you were even here and considering all odds, you were quite happy in your bubble. When Sunday came, Poppy told you that you were free to go but take it easy, which meant no quidditch and pranks, and to come back Monday evening for her to check you up again. Most of your wounds were healed and the bruises were barely visible, but still, some of them took longer to heal. One wound in particular, the one on your side, was pretty nasty and sometimes still bled a bit. It was sure to say you were glad to finally leave the infirmary.

“You’re ready, pet?” Asked Sirius as he took your bad, with all the cards and sweets that people sent you in his hands, and watched Remus, who was tying up your shoes. You told him you were perfectly fine to do it yourself, but he just waved his hand and kneeled in front of you. Why would you when I can? was his only response.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You smiled at him and hopped off the bed, taking Remus’s hand as all three of you left the hospital wing. But as soon as you walked down the corridor to your common room, the reality hit you and you stopped to take a deep breath. What if it happens again? What if they pick on someone else? What would happen if Regulus hadn’t come? I’d probably die. The boys must have noticed your sudden panic and stopped as well. Siris stood in front of you and put his hands on your cheeks to make you look up at him. His gaze was soft and full of love.

“I know it’s scary right now, but nothing like that is ever gonna happen again, do you trust me? Do you trust us to protect you?” He asked softly, not breaking eye contact so you knew he was serious. Remus squeezed your hand, to reassure you in your own way. Your timid nod didn’t seem to please them.

“Words, angel. Do you trust us to protect you?” Remus prodded and your eyes shifted to his honey ones.

“I do, with my life.” You responded verbally now, which seemed to please them, as you all continued walking to the portrait, one boy at either of your side. Once in the common room, all of your friends were already there a big barel welcome back hung from the chandelier and you genuinely smiled as they all gave you a big and long hug.

“Now, now, don’t smother our girl.” Remus protectively pulled you to sit on his lap as he sat on the couch and buried his face into your neck, inhaling your scent. “She must be used to it, dating the two of you.” James stuck his tongue out at him playfully and they started to bicker. You felt like you were finally home. With your friends all around you, in the middle of the loves of your life, both of them touching you at all times, you were happy. This is where I belong, you thought. The rest of the day was spent talking, laughing and playing wizarding chess or exploding snap.

“Alright, its time for dinner kids, lets go.” Lily decided, standing up and ordering everybody around like the mum of the group. Your whole body seemed to freeze at that. The thought of leaving you little bubble of happiness to go to the Great Hall was more then unsettling for you.

“Go without us, we’ll just hang in here. Would you mind bringing us something?” Remus spoke up, obviously noticing your sudden anxious state. You both loved and hated how they could read you and knew you like the back of their hands. Nothing would get past them. James nodded before running after Marlene, probably to discuss the upcoming quidditch match. Lily sent you an understanding smile before waving at you and leaving the common room.

“Thanks, I’m just not ready to face them, yet.” You uttered, feeling embarrassed.

“Hey, you don’t have to explain yourself to us. Anything to make you feel the most comfortable, always.” Sirius was quick to argue and attacked your face with small, wet kisses. You laughed as you tried to get away from him. However, during your wiggling around, you accidentally pushed on your sore side and a sharp pain ran through your body. You let out a groan and the boy stopped quickly and distanced himself from you.

“Hey, are you okay? I’m so sorry if I hurt you, darling.” He was quick to speak, looking you up and down to spot any wound reopening and bleeding. You placed your hand on his cheek and smiled.

“It’s okay, just my stupid side. You didn’t do anything, I must have moved wrong or something. It’s fine.” You tried to assure him, but he still looked worried. Remus decided to step in and stood up, holding his hand out for you to take.

“Why don’t we go back to our dorm, hm? You could take a warm bath and relax as we wait for James to bring us something to eat. Then we can cuddle, how does that sound, my loves?” The idea of hot bath has already calmed you and you were quick to take his hand and get up. “Sounds like heaven.” You gave him a kiss and you all went to your dorm.

Well, it was their dorm, but you spent all of your time there anyway. You had your things there and to be honest, you couldn’t remember the last time you slept with the girls in your own dorm. James didn’t mind and claimed he was happy to have someone who’d help him deal with the two idiots. Once inside, Remus drew you a warm bath and even added some bubbles for you. It was nothing like the prefect bathroom, where you sometimes sneaked in with you boyfriends, but at that moment, it was perfect. You slowly undressed, with Sirius helping you, and softly kissing every new scar and unhealed bruise. You daren’t look into the mirror, terrified what you’d see, but right then and there, you felt loved, bare in front of your boys who stared at you with nothing but love in their eyes. Sirius helped you into the bathtub and you let out a content sigh when you sank into the hot water. Remus kissed your forehead and took Sirius’s hand, as they went to leave you alone.

“Stay.” You whispered, giving them your best puppy eyes, that Sirius taught you. Without another word, they both sat next to your bathtub, and you were finally able to relax, feeling every single muscle loosening after what felt like ages. You were all silent as Remus laid his hands on the edge of the tub and rested his hands on top of them, Sirius resting his head on his shoulder. You had no idea how much time has passed, all of you just enjoying the quiet time together, but it was interrupted by James, who poked his head inside the bathroom.

“Y’all good?” At the disturbance, Sirius quickly threw a bottle of shampoo on his head.

“Oi! Get out and stop ogling my naked girlfriend!” He shouted at his friend who put up his hands in surrender. James couldn’t have seen anything, as you were covered in bubbles but your boyfriend’s protectiveness mage you laugh a little.

“It ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before.” He joked before quickly shutting the door as Sirius got up with the intention to punch him. You laughed at that, remembering the few times when you walked out of the bathroom naked, thinking you were alone in the dorm, with James sitting on his bed or him walking into the bathroom when you were showering. Not to mention that all of your friends went skinny dipping into the Black Lake.

“I’m kidding, sorry! Just wanted to know if you’re okay since you’ve been silent for the whole 20 minutes I’ve been here.” He said behind the closed door. At that, Remus put his hand into the bath which has gotten cold already. “Alright, let’s get you out, the water is freezing and you need to eat something.”

Sirius washed your hair as Remus went to get some clothes for you as well as a new bandage and some ointment. After drying you up, he carefully rubbed in on the wounds and bruises as well as some pink scars. You mustered up the courage to look at yourself in the mirror and sucked in a breath. You looked much worse than you thought. Even after almost a full week of being at the infirmary, unhealed scratches could be seen all over your body, numerous of bruises and scars, some bigger then other, keeping them company. Your cheeks were hollowed, and you had dark circles under your eyes. You also looked thinner. Sirius quickly stepped in front of you when he saw the disgusted look you gave yourself in the mirror.

“Hey,” he said as he put some hair behind your ear, “you’re beautiful.”

The smile you gave him was genuine and you stopped thinking about it as he kissed you passionately. They dressed you in some sweatpants and shirt, none of which were yours. When you emerged from the bathroom, you realized that James has already prepared the food on Sirius’s bed, which was the biggest of them all, thanks to a single spell, since the three of you slept on it every single night. You settled comfortably on the bed, under the covers with the boys around you and contently started eating.

“Thank you, Jamie.” You thanked him with a mouth full of mashed potatoes. You didn’t even realize how hungry you were, but it was really no surprise since Poppy fed you mostly soups from various of herbs to help you heal.

“Anytime, sunshine.” He winked at you and started a calm conversation. Mostly between the boys, since you were too busy eating. After dinner, Sirius sat behind you and without a word started to braid your still wet hair. It was your routine, doing each others hair, sometimes Remus’ as well, if he had them long enough. When he was done, you all bid good night to James and laid on the bed.

“Would you read to us Moony?” Sirius asked sweetly, pulling you closer, careful not to hurt you in any way. Remus pulled out his book, The Lord of the Rings, and his calm voice filled the silence. You nuzzled yourself closer to him and quickly fell asleep, his voice fading away in the background.

You were running away from someone, you didn’t know who, but knew they were dangerous. You were in some dark place, when someone pushed you to the ground.

“This is what you fucking deserve, filthy bitch!” The unknown person spat at you as he hit you, pain erupting immediately all over your face. You were suddenly on the floor and someone was kicking you over and over again. Your hands tied so you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself. You screamed for help but an evil laugh was the only thing heard. “Shh, we’re just playing.” And another blow, now into your head. You felt like you were under water and running out of air, not being able to breathe.

“Hey, hey, wake up. It’s okay.”

Unknown hands shook you, but you saw only silhouettes, and green flashes of lights. Suddenly, you had a wand at your neck. You tried to pull away, but couldn’t. The wand suddenly slashed your throat.

“C’mon, wake up darling.”

You sat up quickly in your bed, gasping for breath as your hands flew to your throat. You’re safe, your in your dorm with your boys. It was only a dream. You were shaking like a leaf, only now just realizing that someone was talking to you.

“Breath for me, angel. It’s okay, we’re here. You’re here, you’re in our dorm, with me and Moony, you’re safe. Just keep on breathing for me, please.” You concentrated on Sirius’ words, slowly calming your breath.

“I’m gonna touch you, is that okay, my darling?” Remus said in his soft tone, you weren’t able to speak so you tried to nod, but it wasn’t enough for the boys.

“Please, use your words. I know it’s hard, but try, pet.” You croaked a yes, which seemed to satisfy him and he gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle, yet firm embrace. Sirius handed you a glass of water you didn’t even see him get it. You gulped the water like your life depended on it.

“It was just a bad dream, my love. You’re okay.” You were able to calm down, but was still shaking lightly in Remus’ arms.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He whispered as he kept on rubbing small circles on your back. You took a deep breath, trying to remember the dream but it was all hazy.

“I-I was in some dark room or something and someone kept on hurting me. And then-then..” you were interrupted by your own sobs but tried to pull it together to finish “then a wand slashed my throat and I couldn’t breathe.” You cried into his shoulder. Sirius took your hand in is and placed it where your heart is.

“Do you feel that?” He patiently waited for you to nod before continuing, “that’s your heart and it’s beating. It means you’re alive and breathing, my love. It was just a nightmare. Take a deep breath, because you can, baby. It’s okay.”

You felt your heartbeat and started to slow down your breathing, the shaking stopped as did the tears. You pulled out of Remus’ hug and looked at them sheepishly.

“I’m sorry for waking you up.” You just now noticed the darkness of the room and heard James’ loud snores. You swore he would sleep through an earthquake.

“You have nothing to apologize for, angel. We knew the nightmares would come sooner or later.” Remus soothed your worry but his words confused you and you looked at him with furrowed brows.

“Well, at the infirmary, Poppy gave you a sleeping draught every night so you could sleep peacefully, but you didn’t take any tonight. I was just kinda counting on it. It makes sense after what happened.” You froze at his words, you didn’t even think about that.

“Oh, I’ll go and get it tomorrow then.” You sighed, fatigued overtaking of your body.

“No, pet. I know its hard and the nightmares are terrible. Trust me, I know, but you can’t take it for such a long time, it could really mess you up.” Sirius looked at you apologetic, feeling bad for crushing your vision for peaceful sleep.

Your whole face fell down and you looked close to tears again. “But I don’t wanna have a nightmare every night.” You uttered, looking at your hands, picking at your nails.

“And you won’t! Me and Pads will do everything in our power to help you with them, just not through medications, okay?” Remus was quick to reassure you, taking your hand in his so you would stop picking at your nails before they started to bleed. You were too tired to fight with them, so you sighed a small yes and let them lay you on the bed again, squeezed in between them.

“Moony’s gonna read to us again, until you fall asleep, okay?” Sirius said and kissed your nose, but you were quick to protest. “No, I don’t want to keep you up for no reason, you shouldn’t stay away just because I can’t sleep.”

Remus gave you almost a bored look but still looked at you lovingly. “Hey, none of that, darling. Anything to help you. Plus, I ended at quite an interesting chapter, so I’m curious what’s gonna happen next.” And with that, he picked up the book and started to read, just like few hours ago. And just like few hours ago, you feel asleep.

The next time you woke up, it was by Sirius who was leaving wet kisses all over your face. “Wakey, wakey. We need to get ready for classes.” He whispered but still continued to kiss your face. It was Remus, who ushered both of you to the bathroom to clean up (and redress your wounds, of course) and soon enough, you were on your way to the Great Hall for breakfast with your friends.

Everybody was chatting with you the whole time, to help you ease your nervousness, and you were immensely grateful for them all. You stopped in front of the huge door to the Hall, but before you could start to think too much about things, Remus took your hand and Sirius screamed your name to gain your attention.

“Look, look! This is how to make someone your peasant.” And before you, or anyone really, processed his words, he jumped on James’ back, held tight with one hand, the other high in the air as he started screaming loudly. “Go, my slave. Take me to my fine breakfast and DO NOT DROP ME!”

James wasn’t even complaining, pretty used to his theatrics and he ran straight to their places, making a huge scene with Sirius. All of them laughed at their silliness and before you knew it, you were sat at the table, with your back to the Slytherins, and started to eat. All of your friends were distracting you with jokes and you were smiling the whole time. Sirius was still ordering James around and he did everything the long haired boy asked.

“Pass me the juice.”

“Of course, my lord. Is there anything else I could aide you with? Your wish is my command.”

After breakfast, Remus took your backpack and you walked hand in hand to your class. Sirius was, of course, riding on James’ back to the class.You were thankful that you shared Charms, your first class, with your boyfriends, as well as Lily. The worst part was, that the Slytherins were taking Charms as well. Sirius got off James’ back before the classroom and looked you deep in the eyes.

“Listen, and listen to me closely, pet. Me and Remmy are gonna be with you the whole time. There’s not gonna be a second when one of us isn’t close to you, okay? It’s gonna be okay, you’ll be fine and we’ll be always by your side.” He reassured you and you smiled at his thoughtfulness to calm you down. You took a deep breath and Remus squeezed your hand in support. You nodded that you were ready and you entered the classroom. You didn’t look around, your gaze set on your desk. Sirius and Remus were on both your sides, squashing you in between them.

Remus still hasn’t let go of your hand as you squeezed it tightly when you felt the hairs on your neck rising. Snape and Mulicber were here. You didn’t dare to move a muscle, your body in a trance, too scared to even breathe. Both of your boys noticed and they tried to talk to you and joked around to make you smile, but you weren’t able to concentrate on them. You didn’t even notice when the class started, nor did you registered that it has finished. You could feel their eyes on you, the whole time. You knew that Snape was staring at the back of your head, his eyes sending daggers your way, but you were too afraid to look back. To look at him, them.

Sirius had to nudge you that the class was over and you had to go to the other one. You felt like you were sleepwalking as they took your things and led you out of the classroom. But you froze in your tracks as you heard the cold laugh behind you. You knew it was Mulciber.

“Well, well, well. Surprised to see you at school and not the graveyard.” He snickered but before you could do as much as blink, you heard a loud bang from behind you. You turned ground quickly, waiting for some king of danger coming your way, but were met with Sirius pinning him to the wall, his wand at his neck and hand holding his chest so he couldn’t move.

You saw as Snape took out his wand, but Remus casted a quick Expelliarmus and his wand flew out of his hand and his reach. He was stood protectively in front of you, his wand aimed at Snape as Sirius hold Mulciber. You didn’t even know how any of that happened, if was all too quick.

“Say another word to her, I dare you. Let’s see who will be buried six feet under.” Sirius seethed, his voice low and dangerous. You’ve never heard him use this tone.

“You’ve got bodyguards now, heh?” Snivellus snickered at you but not moving an inch. Before any of you could say or do anything, Lily appeared out of thin air and hit him square in the face. Snape fell to the ground, holding his bleeding nose and looking up at her in surprise.

“If you ever come close to her, I will hurt you. And I fucking mean it, Severus. I don’t know what happened to you but it gives you no right to act like an asshole. You are nothing but a fucking scam and dirt. Don’t come close to her or any of us, never again.” She told him, her voice cold and face blank of any emotions. You have never heard Lily use so many swear words in your life, let alone in one sentence.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Mulciber trying to get out of Sirius’ gasp and Remus was ready to send some hex his way, but you stopped him as you laid your slightly shaking hand on his shoulder.

“Wait.” You said quietly but strongly. He stopped and looked at you, his wand still aiming at his enemy.

“Don’t be like them. Let them go, karma will get them soon and better then us.” I said loudly, for all of them to hear me. Remus’ gaze softened but his wand still raised high.

You could hear Sirius growl, not moving an inch, so you walked up to him and took his hand with his wand an out it down. He looked unsure, but wasn’t fighting your touch. You looked deep inside Mulciber’s eyes and when he open his mouth to say something, you spat at him. You could hear Lily gasp, but you didn’t care as you turned around and walked away with your head held high.Remus, Lily and Sirius quickly caught up with you, your raven boyfriends taking your waist and spinning you in the air.

“That’s my fucking girl! You shoved them who has the power!” He hollered, and you laughed. When he set you down, both he and Remus hugged you tightly and you felt the weight lifting off your shoulders.

“That was brilliant, my sweet girl. I’m so so proud of you.” Remus beamed with pride, kissing the top of your head. “I could never do it without you. Thank you, for everything.” You squeezed their arms and quickly went to hug Lily as well.

“That must have been hard for you, I know you two used to be close.” You whispered into her ears. She sighed and let you go, looking into your eyes.

“Yeah, used to. Before he turned out to be such a prick. But I won’t hesitate to protect you from him, or anyone else, no matter what.” She gave you a kind and sincere smile and you knew she meant it.

As you walked down the corridor, with Sirius and Remus nonstop praising you, you felt lighter. You knew it wasn’t the end. The wounds were yet to be healed, the physical ones as well as emotional ones, and the war was far from the end, but you knew you could do it.

With your boyfriends and friends by your side, you were unstoppable.

——————-

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