#and Dick saves him every single day just by being there and being a constant light in his life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thegoblinboy · 1 year

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Painted Skin

Square and Prompt: A2 Prank gone wrong (and then Right)

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3403

Ships: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Warning; this one shot results from bullying, it’s nothing to bad but bullying is in this

Major tags: are listed below, I made sure to put warnings up before this though steve is hard of hearing in this as well

Summary; Eddie, like a bunch of other kids is forced to go to the pep rally or what he likes to call it the prep rally. The school has a tradition of dumping water on a poor kids head (with constant before hand) but this year something else gets dumped on Eddie and Steve Harrington. Resulting in both of them having to help each other get cleaned up in the showers. (This is a very clean one shot to smut even though it sounds like it lol)

Mention; @steveharringtonbingo

Note: Eddie and Steve aren’t close but they are aware of each other and have had a few conversations before this happens

Eddie stumbles over his feet a little, nearly falling on his face in the stands. Nothing or anyone had tripped him. It was all him. The clumsiness had gotten better (or worst) since he was a toddler. He wasn't sure if that was true, all he knew was that he would start some days without one single bruise on him and land in bed later that night with small bruises on his skin. Over his knees, on his arms. Anywhere really. Constant blue and purple painted his skin along with the tattoos. It was so common that his Uncle had stopped questioning them years ago. While balancing himself from nearly falling, he could already feel the bruise on his shin forming. A small scrape as well from where he skimmed it against one of the metal steps. God only knows why anyone trusted him anywhere near the stands. Which was why he was a tad annoyed, he wasn't here on his own record. Today was the annual pep rally for Hawkins. A day that he hated just as much as he hated Valentine's Day.

The day was just every single jock showing off to the school. Playing tug of war, competing in numerous stupid games while every student watched. The gym was always loud, everyone always yelling. It had everything Eddie hated. Loud noises, asshole jocks, and sweaty teenagers being forced to be squished up against each other because of the lack of space in the bleachers. It was also a pain in the ass finding a spot to sit as everyone quickly saved spots for their friends and became huge dicks about it. Which was how Eddie had started out trying to sit in the far back, and ending up in the front row. Anxiously picking at the Jean material on his ripped skinny's. Tracing a small bruise that was on his knee that he doesn't even know happened. Looking forward as his heart raced in his chest. Anxiety high as he fidgets with anything he can touch. His rings, his shirt, or his hair.

The principle had started to stand in the middle of the gym talking into the mike that kept cracking a little, making it sound like he was going through puberty. Eddie didn't bother listening to what anyone had said just zoning out into his own thoughts. His eyes were carefully watching everyone's movement as he bites his lip. Thoughts wondering if he should get a lip ring. Give him something else to fidget with. Like any other year tug of war goes first. All of the jocks getting worked up and sweaty over something so stupid. The losing team throwing a small fit before being escorted to their side of the room. While the other cheered like they won the god damn war. Like any year, the hugest jock of them all would go to the middle of the gym floor and talk. For the past two it had been Steve Harrington. This year is was Jason, a sixteen year old brat who got his way more then anyone.

Like everyone else, Eddie had heard about Steve getting a very bad concussion during a fight with Billy last year. Not only did he hear but he knew. He wasn't close to the guy but he talked to him on occasion, shockingly. He knew that it was so bad to the point he wasn't even allowed to be on the basketball team anymore. Which must have sucked for the senior, who Eddie had finally found sitting with a group of kids. A curly haired brat with a baseball cap whispering in his ear intensely and throwing his hand around along with Lucas Sinclair. A kid he was familiar with as it was well known he was the reason along with Max, that Steve and Billy got in a fight anyway. Something about the two dating, he wasn't sure and he didn't care. His suspicions of Billy being racist was confirmed and he made sure to avoid the guy like the plague. Which thinking about the guy made him look around for him. Not seeing him anywhere was a bit suspicious.

Though his eyes move back to Jason. Who was going on about god knows what. His voice was drowned out by the constant whispers surrounding the crowd. A lot of Steve Harrington and Billy Hargroves being tossed around. Eddie decides he was tired of it all and slides on his headphones, clicking on the tape and letting it play. Drowning out everyone else to the lyrics.

"Come on feel the noise, Girls rock your boys, we'll get wild wild wild, wild, wild, wild"

After that everything starts to go by much faster with a blur. Of course Eddie knew about the tradition of dumping water on a random kid in the gym. But normally the kid was told so before hand, as that was the teachers terms for allowing it. This year, it was different. Eddie had truly been minding his own business when he catches sight of someone going behind Steve Harrington. Furrowing his eyebrows he assumes it's water, finding a funny way of including the old king of Hawkins high. What he doesn't expect is to feel something cold going over his head right as he watches yellow paint going over Steve Harrington's head. Who seems just as shocked, but was holding himself a lot better then Eddie. Who had jumped up as his headphones start to glitch, hair starting to stick to his forehead as he realizes this wasn't water. Looking he catches onto the culprit, and with out hesitated throws a punch. He's seeing red, literally and figuratively. Red paint going over his face and he has to quickly wipe it from his eyes as students were screaming not wanting paint on them and some were laughing.

Eddie laughs when he watches the guy who did this to him slip and fall in the paint. Yelling out in pain. Eddie is pissed and his Walkman was ruined. Turning his head he sees Jason looking smug as hell. Breathing in paint fumes, Eddie had already figured out it was him. So had Steve Harrington who was walking up behind him. Eddie wiggles his fingers at Jason who was grinning, which falters as he looks confused. Before he's being swung around and punched in the face but a very pissed Steve Harrington. Who proceeds to spit yellow paint out at him. Eddie moves trying to get off the stands but he's falling himself, landing on his ass as he angrily throws his Walkman to the side. Looking around he could also see that he and Steve weren't the only victims. Jonathan Byers and some random kid from band were also hit.

Eddie can barely hear anything over the crowd, that he doesn't catch on to Steve Harrington standing in front of him with a group of kids. They were yelling and flipping people off and Eddie already could tell he liked the red head. Who was taking wads of paint off from Steve and sprinting after who ever said something and smearing paint on the back of their shirts. He looks dazed as he realizes the King was extending his hand to the freak. He hesitates and Steve looks a little hurt by it, the curly hair boy with the cap looks like he's about to chew his ear out. Not wanting to be on the wrong side of that kid he takes Steve's hand. Feeling the red paint smearing with the yellow creating a orange like color as he's lifted up. Stumbling a bit as his sneakers, that were once white slip through the paint nearly taking him and Steve out. He chuckles awkwardly as he regains balance from the others sturdy shoulders before they move off of the stands. Eddie is ready to disappear, but is awkwardly led to the locker room to get washed up.

His head was swimming with all of the kids voices and the reality of the situation was dawning on him as tears form in his eyes. "Everyone shut up!" He yells voice cracking. His hands moving to his ears a bit as everyone's heads snap to look at him. Steve takes control as he moves to grab his wallet out.

"Max, go buy dish soap, shampoo, conditioner, and maybe olive oil." Steve rambles out. "That will hopefully help get the paint out of our hair." He instructs sending the kid off with Lucas stopping Dustin. "You know where my key is, stop at mine and go grab some extra clothes. Some for Munson to." He says leading the situation. If Eddie wasn't freaking out he would be impressed. Though he can't think to much about it as he's shoved into the locker room. Stumbling over himself as Steve groans wiping paint from his forehead again. Not saying anything as he starts to pull his shirt off. Eddies face is red for different reasons then just the paint. Glancing down at the others chest hair before Steve's whistling snapping in front of his face.

"Come on Munson, I'm pretty sure you want to try and get that paint out of your hair before it dries." He comments as he moves over the shower already having done this a million times. Stripping down to his briefs, and thank god he keeps them on as he gets under the water. Yellow paint already going down the drain. His shoulders are tense as he coughs a little, the fumes were strong as he tries to get clean. Eddie hesitates before moving and pulling his clothes off, staying in his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Boxers. His embarrassment was growing as he try's to figure out the shower. He has always made sure not to come in here. With the whole being gay thing, showering with a bunch of jocks after gym didn't seem like a good idea.

Steve glances over and moves forward turning it on for him, getting a little to close as he leans back. Groaning as he pulls at his hair a bit. Eddie blushes as he looks down seeing that his drain looked like a murder just took place as the red paint goes down. A knock is heard from the door and a teachers head is poking in, it's Mr.Clarke as he asks. "Hey you boys alright?" He can't see the showers as the lockers blocked them from view. Steve hesitates before he gives a honest answer.

"I have yellow paint in my ears, and I can barely hear to begin with what?" He yells loudly. Eddie furrows his eyes as he gets the others attention.

"He's asking if we are alright?" Eddie asks. If it was any other situation it would be very weird seeing Steve Harrington watching his lips trying to understand what he was saying. He looks confused as Eddie moves a hand mouthing a don't worry about it as he yells.

"It looks like a bloody war zone in here Mr.Clarke! How would we get paint out of our hair?" He asks loudly. Hearing the door closing a bit.

"Maybe dish soap? I'll go grab some and bring it in for you guys." The older man says quickly running out the door leaving them alone again as Steve starts to wash himself up. Eddie was struggling with his curls and was definitely going to rip his hair out. His worst nightmare happens when Mr. Clarke comes back in. Getting the okay to walk in holding huge things of dish soap. Cringing the older man comments.

"I think it would be a easier if you guys helped with your guys hair." He advices. "I know it's awkward but, you guys will probably rip more hair out if you can't see what's happening."

Steve furrows his eyes not hearing what he was saying. "What?" He asks. Looking between the two guys before Eddie punches his nose already hating the idea.

"Mr. Clarke said it would be easier if we helped each other out with our hair." Eddie says loudly making sure to get close to the others ear. Steve's face goes a light pink as he frowns a little before shrugging.

"I mean- that sounds right. If you don't punch me in the face until after." Steve says with a snort as he fought with paint taking the dish soap. Waving for the other to come to him. Eddies face is red as he moves. The whole thing isn't sexual or anything, it's rough in a not so good way. Just steve moving his hands in his curls pulling them a little while Eddie's cursing. Already feeling a headache forming. Whining as Mr. Clarke kept watch at the door. They were in there for a long time. Both their skin was stained and Eddie's head hurt when Steve finally pulls back. Eddie hears their teacher cursing as shoes squeak coming in.

"Steve!" A light lisp is heard from the name as Dustin comes in. Scrunching his nose up when he catches sight of Steve's chest. "Dude you need to shave your chest Jesus Christ." He complains as he moves setting clothes to the side. Bringing shampoo, conditioner and extra dish soap in. "We couldn't find oil." He admits as Steve furrows his eyes a bit trying to make sense of what he's saying. Dustin groans as he moves his hands a bit, it looks crazy as Eddie looks confused.

"What are you doing?" He asks confused.

"Signing dumbass," Dustin sasses moving his hand to dramatically flip him off after he signed the words he said. Eddie hears Steve laugh softly as he he says softly.

"Sorry, my hearing aids were kind of ruined in the process. I cant hear all that well right now," Steve says to Eddie. Not even thinking about saying anything. Eddie frowns as Steve moves pouring shampoo and starts to scrub at his scalp to get soap out. Letting it sit as he adds. "Now can you help with my hair?" Steve asks.

Eddie hated how intimate this all was. Turning and pouring dish soap in his hand and moving it in the others hair. Careful not to tug his hair as he scrubs it out. "Oh what happened to Byers and the other kid?" Eddie asks. Realizing they weren't in here as well getting washed up.

"The other kid started having a asthma attack so they had to take him to the hospital, while Jonathan ran off. Probably to go home and get washed." Dustin explains. "Though why don't you move Steve so he can face me so he can join the conversation." He comments. Eddie listens as he moves getting the other to turn.

Steve looks confused before Dustin signs something to him. The paint is really a pain in the ass getting out. Groaning he has to get on his toes a bit to reach as they were the same height. All of the dish soap was used and once again they are separated as they go under their own showers. Washing their own hair better. Dustin had left to go wait for Steve outside. Mr. Clarke also left to go chaperone the kids as well leaving them alone again. Neither of them speak until the clothes situation happened. Eddie blushes as Steve offers to have him choose what he wanted to wear. Between the polo shirt and the yellow sweater the yellow seemed more reasonable.

Separating to go change, Eddie slips a pair of dry boxers on. It was weird and he didn't want to think about it as he comes out in a pair of blue Levi's and the yellow sweater. He moves pulling his hair up in a bun as his guitar chip hung loosely on his chest. Thankfully the paint came off from that easily. Steve was changed now and scrunches his nose up as he looks at his clothes. Grabbing what he needed from them before just throwing them in the garbage. Eddie does the same, sad that his band t was ruined. His shoes now had red pant dried on them and Steve's were yellow.

Steve starts to talk again. "I'm sorry." He says gently.

"For what?" Eddie asks confused as he makes sure he looks fine.

"I don't know, I just used to be apart of that crowd?" Steve says. Having a better time hearing the other without the water going or the paint in his ears. He's sure he would be picking yellow out of there for a long time.

"Well big boy, I'm not the only victim here." Eddie points out.

"Yeah I know, I'm going to apologize to Jonathan and the other kid later." Steve comments. Eddie frowns when he sees the other genuinely doesn't believe he's a victim.

"Dude, you are also a victim here. Your hearing aids were ruined!" Eddie comments loudly.

"Well I can easily replace those," Steve waves off as he gets awkward. Eddie huffs a bit as he moves to grab the pen off from the sign up board on the wall. Where everyone signed up for teams.

"Well, Steve. I think it was pretty metal that you punched Jason in the face." He says with a grin moving to write his number on the paper. Handing it to the other.

"Call me later so I can return your clothes." He says with a chuckle as he leaves. His walk away was supposed to be smooth like they were in the movies. But instead he was taken by the principle along with Steve to the office. His face is red as he sits in the chair being scolded for punching two assholes in the faces. Of course the assholes who were at fault were being treated like angels.

"Steve are you even listening to me!" The principle snaps. Face red from the whole thing.

"No I'm not, you know why?" Steve says sounding bitchy. "Because one of those assholes poured paint and ruined my thousand dollar pair of hearing aids." He snaps.

The principle is about to say something but Steve doesn't give him a chance. "My father will be hearing about this," he says louder then intended. Waving for Eddie to leave with him. They were in there less then five minutes. Now they actually depart. Eddie leaves with a red face as he went home to a empty trailer. Wayne was most likely out still as he moves quickly getting changed.

He had expected a phone call that night but it doesn't come for a few days. He finds himself outside the Harrington residence knocking on the door with the folded clothes in his hand. He smiles brightly as he sees Steve. Who was gesturing for him to come in.

"I expected to get a phone call sooner Stevie." He comments.

"Well I really couldn't, I had to wait for my hearing aids." Steve chuckles. Eddie makes a oops face feeling guilty as he hands the other his clothes. Steve waves it off before getting excited. "Oh, I have something for you."

He says gently as he runs off coming back with a box. Eddie frowns as it's forced into his hand. He takes it before opening the box gently. Eyes going wide when he sees a new pair of headphones and a new walkman with a few tapes underneath it.

"Me and Dustin went shopping, we couldn't tell what tape you had but we bought a bunch just in case." Steve says with a happy smile. Eddie grins as he looks at them. Whistling.

"Oh stevie." He grins as he looks up. "Thank you." He says moving pulling the other into a hug. He had always been a hugger so this was no different. Even though he barely knew the guy in front of him, he had already felt like he's known him forever. Though he catches the other by surprise and they are both falling. Steve's laughing as Eddie's face is red as he quickly helps the other up. A small scrape on his elbow from hitting the floor. The both of them are awkward and stumbling over their words as they apologize to each other but Eddie knew that the scrape on his skin and the light bruise next to it would be one of his favorite memories in the entire world. Of course after the embarrassment left him.

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jvsons · 2 years

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THEIR WORST FEARS

MASTERLIST

FEATURES • Jason, Dick, and Tim

WARNINGS • nothing really extreme, implied instances of developed issues and anxiety

DICK GRAYSON

Ever since Dick lost his parents, he’s been kept awake from the same reoccurring fear. He cannot live with the idea of being forgotten, even worse, left behind. This fear is the origin of his clingy behavior, yet the reason he sets off by himself. Dick is very self aware of his fear of being by himself that he tries to isolate himself to combat it, yet he finds himself unable to stay away from the ones he loves for more than a day unless he absolutely has to. Snarky remarks and horrible jokes stem from his fears of being thought of and remarked as boring, one of many reasons to leave. He grasps for any interactions he can make with you, just to be reassured you’re not annoyed, that you’re not getting sick of him.

Attachment issues have always come fast with Dick, and he tries, he tries to distance himself, but he cannot stray from the comfort of being with the ones he loves. He constantly finds his hands on some part of you, mainly your hands, arms, or back. Yet, he can’t help but feel as if he’s being too much sometimes, then your part comes in where you squeeze his hand and tell him everything will be alright. However, there will always be a part of Dick that churns a sinking fear in his stomach, and he’ll be left alone some day.

JASON TODD

Jason Todd has been given hundreds of things to fear. With time he’s conquered many of them, not much bothers him like it used to, save one thing. The very fear that stuck with him all this time has been simple, Jason’s worst fear is not being loved. He questions it all the time in almost every situation. This issue has persisted with everyone he knows, no matter how hard he’s tried to push it away. This even you occurs with you, he questions every day whether you really love him or not; only to shove his hands in his hair for questioning your loyalty. It’s stupid, he used to say it all the time, and you had no idea what he was talking about. And then it clicked; you knew he blamed lack of love from Bruce on his death, or in other cases supposed death, and you know he’ll be quick to blame anyone else leaving on the fact that they never loved him in the first place.

To figure out he also does this with you raised many insecurities in your relationship, but you eventually learned to address the issue whenever it would show. You very rarely find yourself saying the words “I love you”, rather showing your feelings in the little things. Jason notices every time you turn on the Tv you turn the volume down a little, he doesn’t like it loud. He notices you make his coffee just how he likes it every time, adding a little more sugar than cream. And with each little act, Jason knows you love him despite the questions his head raises.

TIM DRAKE

Being over appreciated has always been something Tim was never fond of, but this would never come close to being undermined. Tim could feel something crack inside of him every single time someone downplayed his intelligence, or for the matter anything about him. This wasn’t because of a superiority complex or a large ego, he could leave that all to Dick; it’s all because he’s terrified of criticism and insecure of every little detail. The first time you noticed this occur was when Bruce commented on a file Tim had filled out, saying the way he documented the information was unsatisfactory and sluggish for him. You saw how much it got to him when he went silent and laid his hands flat out against the table he was leaning over. In times like these, Tim will blank out and the back of his mind will take over, constantly muttering of “what did I do wrong?” And more consistently “Oh god.”

The only thing you can really do about Tim’s constant self berating is actually, the bare minimum. You know he dislikes constant compliments, so you save them for when you’re really proud of him, more than usual, and when you know he really needs it. You show your appreciation of his work by watching what he does with silence and interest, yet he appreciates every question you ask as it shows you’re paying attention. Tim swears he loves you more every time you pass out beside him on the couch while he’s working, coffee mug slipping out of your hand and head on his shoulder. Everything you do that shows you’re paying attention and acting on feeling, rather than praise, lessens his worries.

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mildkleptomaniac · 3 years

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i miss the old you — jj maybank x pogue!reader

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: “ hi:) can i request a jj imagine where he and the reader are dating but he doesn’t treat her very well?? (ignoring her, stooding her up, things like that) and maybe she is always for him and loves him beyond everything he does, but he doesnt value her and maybe something happens (like an argument, or she confronts him) and he regrets everything and try to make it up to her??? (and also, she is part of the pogues, and when they are chilling at jb’s boat or something he’s rude to her or something, idk, like in public, and the pogues always call him a dick??) IDK IF THIS MAKES SENSE I JUST WANT SOME GOOD ANGST (fluff ending?) ”

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.8k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: just the feels, mentions alcohol, mentions weed, jj is a dick

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: i hope this is angsty enough to your liking! thank you so much for requesting. this was a lot to write and i enjoyed every bit of it.

Everything at first was amazing while dating JJ. It would be constant dates, hanging out with each other, stealing kisses, late nights helping him finish his homework, going to parties, dancing the night away, winning games of beer pong together, rolling joints (and sometimes Y/N would roll her ankle), exploring abandoned houses together, late trips to gas stations, trying to make some fancy dinners on a low budget, surfing--everything and anything, the two of them did together. Everything felt like it came out of a movie between the two of them.

The romance that she dreamt of having and she finally got it with JJ Maybank. She wouldn’t ask for anything better.

Kiara and Sarah would jokingly gag at the sight of their PDA--always holding hands, sitting in his lap which lead to him kissing her neck, or the constant playing with each other’s hair, the way they would stare at each other. It was all too sweet.

They were inseparable for months on end.

Except for one day. Almost as a switch flipped inside of JJ. Y/N thought it was a phase or maybe it was the end of the honeymoon phase. She knew the phase was bound to end, but this felt off. She didn’t think that she wouldn’t have to deal with JJ’s chaotic behavior this often or leaving her alone for days on end, not answering texts, getting stood up, and promises being empty handed. Everything started to ache and everything started to hurt.

The other Pogues noticed it too and they didn’t have any answers as to why JJ was treating Y/N like this. Kiara understood the times that JJ was running late—what they viewed as running late was considered on time for the blonde. But at some point, neither Kiara or Y/N understood why every single time he was running late and followed with no apology.

Even the way he talked to her shifted and the Pogues were shocked.

JJ stood Y/N up on their six month anniversary. Y/N managed to get a reservation at a nice restaurant that all the Kooks would attend and she saved several paychecks to afford the meal the two would have. She even dressed up for the occasion, buying a summery dress for the night. But he never showed. She sat at the table and continued to eat free appetizers until the server confronted her—informing her she had to order food or leave the table.

With hopeful thinking, she ordered her dinner. The food arrived, but never JJ.

JJ never answered any of his texts. At first she panicked at the thought of Luke doing something awful to him, but when she checked his location he was over at the Chateau.

She left the restaurant and headed straight towards the Chateau. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t have a definite answer as to why he stood her up. She had a hunch, but god, she wanted to be wrong so badly.

As she arrived, her eyes searched around and landed on Kiara and JJ talking on the porch. Pope, John B and Sarah were outside near the fire. The sight of Y/N made everyone smile, except for her boyfriend. She flashed everyone outside a smile until she found her boyfriend on the porch.

Kira excused herself from the scene and there stood Y/N and JJ.

“Where were you? We had a date tonight and we talked about it several times.” Y/N asked, crossing her arms. She was upset and she could feel herself getting worked up.

“I’ve been here, having fun and relaxing with my pals. Where were you?” He asked as if nothing was wrong. Her eyes searched for any hint of sarcasm.

“You’re kidding me, right? Our six month anniversary is tonight and I got the dinner reservations and—I just wondered where you were. I was left waiting for you and it’s quite embarrassing to be stood up.” She laughed uneasily, trying to prevent an argument.

“I think you’re overreacting here, Y/N. I did want to celebrate it with you, but after getting off work I was just tired and wanted to hang out. You get that, right?” JJ explained.

“Overreacting? JJ—you could’ve just told me you didn’t want to do anything tonight instead of leaving me alone to wait for you! I spent two hours by myself waiting for you. I even texted you and you never responded.” She sounded exacerbated at this situation. She felt pathetic sitting around all these Kooks as she waited for her boyfriend and he never showed. She had her own pity party as people stared at her as ate her meal alone.

“You’re being a bit of a bitch right now. I had a long day at work and I wanted to relax. I didn’t have my phone nearby and—you just need to relax.”

As the words left his mouth, Y/N let out a light laugh before nodding her head. “Fine, you want to relax JJ? By all means. I don’t deserve getting treated like this any longer—we’re done. Have fun relaxing and not having to worry about the hardships of having a girlfriend who loves you unconditionally.” Y/N couldn’t control the words that left her mouth, but she was tired of being treated like this.

She deserved better love than this. If she could even consider this love. Y/N brushed past him and went home. She ignored the incoming calls and texts from everyone, including JJ. That was the last person she wanted to talk to at this point.

The Pogues looked at JJ in pure confusion and distaste at how he treated Y/N. She was one of the Pogues.

“What the hell was that, JJ?” Kie asked, her face scrunched together.

“Dude, if Y/N broke up with you—you fucked up. That girl had patience to deal with you.” John B stated. Sarah nodded her head, agreeing with John B.

There had been countless occasions where Y/N would wait for him to show up. Y/N would push aside some of the rude remarks that would slip out of his mouth about Y/N. She dealt with his crazy antics, especially when under the influence. There had been many other times where Y/N would wake up in the middle of the night to pick JJ up from his father’s house--needing an escape. She always did everything for JJ and she never once hesitated to do anything for him.

She was an angel. Anyone would’ve been lucky to have Y/N on their side.

JJ stood there, unaware of how to think or to feel. He knew exactly why he had been distancing himself, but he never wanted to come to terms with it—especially if Y/N kept putting up with the bullshit he gave her each day.

He excused himself, hopping on his bike and driving towards Y/N’s house. There was nothing else he cherished more than Y/N, yet he let her slip through his fingertips.

Pulling up to her house, he hopped off the bike and knocked on the door. Her mother opened the door and frowned at the sight of JJ--knowing well enough how much he hurt her daughter’s feelings; however, she faked a smile. “Sorry JJ, she doesn’t want to see anyone right now.” She leaned against the frame of the door.

“Please Mrs. L/N. I really need to see her and talk to her. So, if you don’t mind me,” He tried walking past her and eventually slipped in and rushed to her bedroom. He knocked several times before opening up the door.

Y/N laid in bed, curled up in her blankets and tears streamed down her face. Her TV played in the background, but he knew she wasn’t watching.

“Go away, Mom. I told you--I don’t want to talk to anyone.” She huffed, before pulling the blankets closer to her body and over her head.

“Y/N--It’s not your mom. I...I need to talk to you.” His voice sounded desperate as he approached her bed. She leaned up and looked over at JJ. Y/N’s nose and face was inflamed from crying, her eyes red and she just shook her head.

“Get out, JJ. Right now. I mean it and I don’t want to play games with you right now. I played with you long enough and I am tired. So please, just get out.” Y/N’s voice cracked.

“Babe, please--I need to explain.”

“What is there to explain, JJ? I think I got the memo. I got the memo that you don’t care about me like you once did, you probably never did in the first place, and that you probably didn’t even love me.” She snapped at him.

JJ fiddled with his hands, feeling tears in his eyes as well. “Y/N, that’s not the case. Please,” He begged as he got closer to her. “I do love you, like a whole lot. But the idea of someone loving me is...scary. Everyone that loved me leaves and...if I started leaving you and distancing myself...then maybe you leaving wouldn’t hurt too bad. But I couldn’t do it and it hurt...You didn’t deserve to get treated like that. I know. I do care for you and I do love you. Please, just--” Tears poured out of his eyes as well at this point. “You’re the only one to ever love me and I am sorry I treated you the way I did.”

Y/N listened to him before she patted the side of the bed. JJ spent no second hesitating before sitting on the bed beside her. She wrapped her arms around JJ and they both cried together and held each other. Once they cried everything out, they both felt rather tired and drained.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Please forgive me.” JJ whispered.

“JJ--If I forgive you, you promise to not treat me like that again? I love you...a lot. But I just know what I’m worth.”

“I promise you I’ll treat you better--I promise you the world. I’m just sorry for everything.”

“I miss the old you, J...will I get that again?”

“Of course, Y/N.” He assured her before pressing his lips against hers. They slid there together, sharing kisses and soft touches. He kept apologizing through the night and she kept forgiving him.

“Can I make it up to you? We can have a date and...it probably won’t be as fancy as the one you had planned, but I promise I’ll show up and be on time.”

She sighed and nodded her head, she was just glad to be beside her JJ again. “Sounds like a plan, babe.”

taglist: @abbyg217 @taylathornton @lemur46 @urdadsapussy @webmeupspiderdaddy @rosarosse @5sos-fic-recs @littlethingsinmymind @pogueslandia @mrs-cameron @starduststarkey @jjshoeobx29872 @caswinchester2000 @starksvixen @littlethingsinmymind @chocolate-chip-cookie1 @newtpsd @rottenstyx @professional-busboy @hallecarey1 @alwaysclassyeagle

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #( jj maybank )#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #outer banks imagine #obx imagines

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mountswhore · 3 years

Note

hey! see u were taking requests so i wanted one with mason related to "london boy" by taylor swift? maybe reader is a singer or something like that?

one of the best taylor swift songs imo, so of course!

𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲 — mason mount

summary: mason shows you around london during your break, and now you don't think you can ever go back

notes: requests are open again! my asks are open.

Leaving your hometown in New York to visit the world was one of the hardest things you had to do. But you had your dream job, now it was time to follow it. Your recent album was a success, pouring your heart into it as you recovered from your breakup. Your fans had watched your relationship build, and then break apart. Hearing your side of things through 14 songs. Awards, interviews, and traction had come from it, earning you a world tour. It was a scary thing to do, considering it was your first international tour.

“I just want to come back to New York already, I’ve not been on this tour long.” You complained to your sister, curled up in a hotel bed in London. Your first destination was the UK, and there was nothing worse than being homesick.

“Quit being a baby, the UK is so nice.” Your sister replied, chuckling shortly afterwards. “Me and dad visited Manchester, I think? Very nice looking, at least where we stayed.” You sighed, knowing that didn’t make it any easier. You loved your cosy apartment in New York, you were even starting to miss the constant traffic sounds and arguing in the early hours of the morning.

“I guess, and I know London is nice, at least. I think I’m gonna interact with some fans,” you decided, pulling the duvet further up your body, “speak tomorrow at sound check.” You ended the call, liking some tweets and replying to a few things, eventually tweeting something of your own.

“Happy to see a lot of my UK fans tomorrow, can’t wait to scream my feelings out with you,” Declan read out, giving Mason a cheeky look. The pair of them were in Mason’s living room, enjoying their evening of FIFA. The boys had spoken about you plenty of times, in interviews too, Mason declaring you as his celebrity crush.

“Shut up already, she probably doesn’t even know who I am.” Mason stated, resting his arm over his eyes to conceal the blush on his face. Him, Declan and a few other boys were going to your concert tomorrow night, some of the WAGs suggested it as they loved your music.

“You think she’s not going to notice a blue tick in her dm’s? It’s worth a shot.” Declan encouraged his friend to shoot his shot, close to grabbing his phone and doing it himself, but instead he was watching Mason bashfully scroll through your twitter replies. “Do it, or I will.”

Mason sighed, clicking the reply button and typing out a reply, handing the phone to Declan to review. ‘Can’t wait, wanna see you.’

“Perfect,” Declan mumbled, pressing the reply button for him. He knew Mason never would, he just saved him 20 minutes of back and forth debate. Handing Mason his phone back, Declan smirked as he watched his friend's face change from fairly embarrassed, to shocked.

“There’s no fucking way you sent that.” Mason remarked, refreshing his phone to see his tweet attract likes. “You dick.”

Declan just laughed as Mason had turned completely red, watching the likes and replies collect under his tweet. Moments later, you’d appeared in his dm’s.

‘I recognise you.’

It was an ominous message from you, one that had you pacing and replaying the creepy message over and over again. But Mason smiled at the message, all ounces of worry leaving his body as he replied to you.

‘Oh yeah? From where?’

‘Actually, I think I recognise your teammate, Pulisic. He’s all my brother talks about sometimes. But all I know is that he plays for a soccer team.’

He laughed at your reply, Declan watching over in pure disbelief.

‘You have a lot to learn about the UK, and luckily I know all about it.’

‘I’ll hold you to that, come backstage after the show, bring whoever you’re with. I’m in London for the next few days before my next show, maybe you can show me around.’

“There’s no way you’re flirting with Y/N Y/L/N within two minutes of replying to her tweet.” Declan stated, Mason smirking at his best friend before sending another reply.

‘Bet.'

Your show was now over and you were anxiously waiting for the boys to be escorted back stage. You didn't know much about football, especially over here, but you knew the boys that were coming back stage were professionals. You'd learnt their names, Declan, Jack, and Mason. Jack and Declan brought their girlfriends along, but Mason was 'painfully single', as he put it.

Finally, as you sat down in your chair to relax, you heard a knock at the door. It was them. They had all filed in, the two girls in shock that they were meeting you. You'd given them all a hug, and gotten to Mason. He looked down at you as you pulled him in, squeezing you tightly before letting you go again.

"Did you guys enjoy it?" You asked, ushering them to the couch for them to sit down. You wanted them to feel as comfortable as possible, rushing over to your dressing room fridge and pulling out some drinks.

"It was amazing," Sasha gawked, still in awe over seeing you for the first time, "we saw you have one in Birmingham in a few weeks, so we're going to that one too." You blushed, returning to your seat opposite the couch.

"That's so sweet! I'm sure I can get you some good tickets, I'll dm you on Instagram or something." You suggested to her, Sasha eagerly nodding her head. You conversed with the group of five, Mason giving you a particular look that you had mirrored back to him. You planned on getting his number, and making sure he showed you around London.

Soon enough, the group was heading back to wherever they were staying, as it was beginning to get quite late. "Thank you guys for coming, and I'm so glad I met you."

Mason stayed behind, folding his arms and sharing a smirk with you as his friends voices trailed down the hallway. "So, about this bet."

"Yeah," you replied casually, grabbing your water bottle from the table and taking a sip, being in the presence of an attractive man again was giving you quite the nerves, "I'll take your number, because I'd love to get to know London." He nodded, grabbing his phone from his jacket pocket and handing it to you.

"Perfect. See you."

You and Mason had planned your first meeting in a pub. It wasn't the classiest of places, but your plan was to get to know the UK. Mason had ordered you both a drink, guessing what you like and nailing it when you went in for a second sip and shoved a thumb up.

"So," he began, fiddling with the coaster his beer sat on, "how long are you in London for?"

"Just until Thursday, Friday morning I'm heading to Manchester." You stated, realising you only had four days with Mason, including today.

"Well, we better make the days count then." Mason declared. The pair of you spoke about his career as well as yours, talking about how different school was for the pair of you. Mason had stood up, holding his hand out for you to take, and you'd accepted it without complaint. He led you out of the pub and through the town center, gazing at the stalls set up around you. The weather wasn't so different to New York, both constantly dreary, but you were liking London so far.

On your second day together, you'd taken a cab to another town, this time to just experience the busy streets. To Mason, this was normal. For you, it was only familiar. New York was one of the busiest cities in the world, but London was different, better in every other way. You'd finished your day together, stomachs full of pub food, and in the back of a cab, rain pattering on the windows. You'd shuffled closer to Mason, placing your hand on his and squeezing. He looked at you briefly, smiling his usual smile, before quickly looking out at the street in an effort to hide his tinged cheeks.

Day three, the weather was too bad to do anything. But Mason kept you company in your hotel room. He'd taught you a bunch of British slang, laughing as your accent completely butchered them all. You'd shown him a snippet of your new song before room service had arrived. And the night ended with the pair of you collapsed in your bed, tv playing in the back ground, but your eyes on each other. It was like pure magic, the long-awaited feeling of his lips on yours. You'd been thinking about it all day, missing every opportunity until now.

Your final day was the worst. You both knew it was coming, you wouldn't see him until you had a break, and he had one too. You both had stupidly busy schedules, as well as living in different countries. Maybe one day you could bring him to New York, show him your side of life. And maybe one day you'll branch out and move here.

Mason had helped you carry your things out of your hotel room, which was taking you to Manchester. Your manager had texted you to be in the car before 3, which meant you had just 10 minutes until you had to say goodbye to Mason for a while.

You were stood in the foyer of the hotel, waiting for the car to arrive. You'd secretly hoped it didn't, you wanted to stay with Mason for a while longer, but you couldn't. Duty called.

"Thank you for showing me around London," you spoke, looking up at Mason, who was hiding his deflated feelings, "I really enjoyed it, I might even prefer it to New York."

"That's a given. I'm here." He joked, in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood. These four days had been immense fun for him, different to how he usually spent his days. Different than night at home alone, different than a night on the town. Was it too soon to say he missed you?

Mason looked down at you as you clung to his side, hoping he felt the same way you did. And he did, you just didn’t know that. His fingers slid across your jaw slowly, pulling your chin up to look at him. It was an intense moment, so many different emotions. He’d leaned in and kissed you, it was his parting gift. To say that he’d see you soon enough.

“Enjoy Manchester, I’m sure I can fit another show in somehow.” Mason spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” You spoke, the car pulling up outside. He’d dragged your suitcases out to the car, popping them in the boot for you. Finally, he stared at you through the window, which you quickly rolled down. “I fancy you, is that the right term?”

Mason laughed, head tipping back slightly. “Yeah, it is. And I fancy you too.”

#mase #money mase #mason mount one shot #mason mount request #mason mount x reader #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount

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sxdmoonchxld · 3 years

Text

Operation: Pop The Cherry | JJK

Jungkook x Virgin!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: rough bathroom sex, college au, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, Jungkook has a virgin kink if you couldn’t tell by he title, lowkey sadistic JK, Gay BFF Jimin, mentions of alcohol and weed, brief mention of homophobia. bIG diCK Jungkook, more belly bulging, and I forgot what else

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: Against you better judgement and thank to your best friend Jimin. You somehow agreed to let a stranger on campus known as the Cherry Popper, too well..pop your cherry.

Alternatively: You're a virgin. Jungkook has a fetish/kink for fucking virgins.

A/N: I guess i’ll keep putting this note until i stop reposting my old stories. I use to be lizardsocial, and this fic was previously called Game. You may still be able to find it somewhere on tumblr. I edited this fic heavily and it’s honestly a new story, but there are still some elements from the fic it used to be still in there. Unedited so please let me know of any mistakes or typos. Like, comment, reblog, let me know what you think. Enjoy!

_________________________________________

Bass boosted pop music seeped through the dense walls of the energetic room. Strobing bright colored beams danced to the rhythm of the music in mesmerizing synchrony. The musty odor of marijuana, booze, and sex-saturated air shrouded the room in a turbid veil, covering the sea of drunken undulating bodies packed in the cramped living room. Empty beer cans and other various booze bottles mixed with burnt-out blunts accompanied the young adults. You groaned with irritation and disgust. You didn't want to be here, but to your chagrin, you had a promise to keep.

It wasn't a secret that the college nightlife was unquestionably not your type of 'scene.' You quite frequently elected to willingly engage most of your time in your freshman dorm, wrapped in your weighted burrito blanket. A nightstand stockpiled with all your favorite snacks, lights dimmed low, and lavender incense burning, filling your room with the aroma of relaxation. The perfect setting to binge-watch your favorite show for the umpteenth time, the shifting distorted brightness of your computer screen, projecting the scenes against your face.

It's kind of funny how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. The one time you decide to take the chance and branch away from the alternate antisocial hermit, your personality had adopted as its own had come back to bite you in the ass. You admit, lately, you've been neglecting your best friend. Your reasonings generally varying from the classic 'oh I was sleep' to deliberately silencing your phone, not wanting to hear the constant shrill ringing of the default ringtone. You loved Jimin, you truly did, but you could only take so much of his eccentric mashup of bubblegum and rainbow sparkles that was his personality. Eventually, guilt began eating away at you piece by piece until you ultimately caved in and invited your friend over for an impromptu movie night in your dorm room.

Not even 30 minutes into the movie, one that you had been dying to see, might you add, Jimin commenced his drunk and high chattering. He had already started 'pre-gaming' before he came over; Six shots of straight Vodka and 2 blunts. Every day you prayed for this man's liver and brain function; with how much he drank and smoke, you would think he needed it to function.

"Oh! Oh! Bitttch. Did I tell you about that football player, I fucckked last week!" Jimin started slurring on certain words. You noticed his eyes were glossy and glazed over.

"No, you didn't, Chim." You sighed, completely giving up trying to watch the movie. You would have to watch it on your alone time.

"Reeaally?" Jimin slurred, a goofy grin uplifting his lips.

"Yes, really. You haven't told me." Amusement lightly coated your voice.

"Welll, his name is T-tae, Tae-tae something. Hold on, it's coming to me." Jimin said, rubbing the sides of his temples, trying to remember the guys' name.

"Taehyung! That's it!" Jimin shrieked, snapping his fingers in victory.

You looked at him startled. You remember Taehyung from high school. You didn't recall him being at this college, though. Well, it wasn't like you paid attention to many things outside your bubble anyway.

"Wasn't he homophobic as fuck in high school?" You asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, he was. Buttt I guess he was trying to cover up, that he was actually on the DL." Jimin smiled, whispering the last part.

"DL? What's that mean?" You inquired

Jimin looked at you with a look of betrayal. "It means he's on the down-low, meaning he didn't want anyone to know he's gay. Girrl, I'm too crossfaded to be explaining this to you."

You chuckled, " My bad, Chim. So was it good?"

"Fuck, no! Dick was straight trash. The only thing that saved him a little was that his dick was huge." Jimin said, wiping away a pretend tear from the corner of his eye.

You laughed boisterously at that. If Jimin wasn't so adamant about becoming a professional dancer. He could seriously take up a career in comedy.

"Speaking of dick. When are you gonna get some?" Jimin asked, turning his body to face you completely. As you looked at him, you noticed his eyes seemed a bit clearer, and his face wasn't as red as earlier. Not only did Jimin drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney. He was somehow able to sober just as fast.

"Oh my god, Jimin. Please don't sta-"

"Mmm, no missy," Jimin said, wagging his finger in your face.

"Don't you hear it?" He said, cupping his hand around his ear as if he was straining to hear something.

"Hear what?" You replied, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest.

"The cobwebs and tumbleweed living in your cunt."

"Jimin!" You shrieked, slapping the arm closest to you.

"Don't Jimin me! You know it's true, I swear you're gonna be a 40-year-old virgin, and by the time you finally make the decision to have sex, it'll be too late!" Jimin yelled, stumbling to stand up from the couch.

"First off, ouch. I won't be a 40-year-old virgin. That's very insulting. Second, I do plan to lose it soon. I just haven't found the time or the right guy." You said, looking down at your feet shyly. You did want to lose your virginity, but with being an introvert with a mix of social anxiety and just a dash of seasonal depression for added flavor. It was hard even to get out of bed sometimes. Much less going out and trying to find someone to do the do with.

"Oh! Well, if that's all, then I got you covered, babe. Time? Next week Friday at Jihyo's dorm. As for the right guy, I know a dude. He has like a kink for that kind of thing." Jimin answered nonchalantly, now scrolling through his phone, probably on his social media page.

You looked at Jimin, head tilted to the side, confused. "What kind of thing?"

"Oh, you know fucking virgins and shit. Popping their cherries." He said, popping his "P's."

You sputtered, exasperated. What the fuck. You didn't kink shame, that was for losers, but he can't seriously expect you to do something like that.

"What the actual fuck. Jimin, are you serious?"

"Deadly." He said, looking you square in your eyes. His tone of voice haven dropped an octave lower.

"Jimin no. I-i can't."

"Jimin, yes! Err, I mean _____ yes, you can! Come on, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Plus, it's not like he's a total stranger. I've known him since he was 8 years old. I use to babysit the little shit head." Jimin said, waving his hand in the air, trying to swat away a rogue fly.

"Wow, Chim. You know, now that you put it like it makes me feel a lot better about the situation." You said tone dripped in sarcasm

"Really?" Jimin squealed, a delighted twinkling in his eye.

"Of course not! Don't be stupid!" Offended, you gawked at Jimin. You swear sometimes he could be so dimwitted.

"Come on, please? At least meet him, and if the vibe is not right, then you can leave no harm done." Jimin pleaded, his attention back on you. Was it crazy that you were actually thinking about agreeing to this? Jimin did have a point. It was sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity. He did know the guy, and if you didn't like the vibe, then you could just bounce, right? Right?

Sighing in defeat, your hands dragged down your face and turned towards a pouting Jimin. Grabbing at his deflated shoulders, you shook her lightly, and with urgency in your voice, you spoke, "Alright goddammit! I'll do it, but you have to stay by my side the whole time, no running off, you understand!"

You watched Jimin's face quirk into a sly smirk. You swore you could see the cogs in his brain churning. Damn, you were going to regret this. You had the tendency to make deals when pressured. Most of the time, those agreements ended up backfiring on you, confining you in the proverbial rock and a hard place.

"Yay! Operation: Pop _____ Cherry has commenced. Okay, so will meet at the auditorium on the art campus. From there we will walk to Jihyo's dorm, it's only five minutes. Promise me you'll actually show up and won't flake on me." A complacent expression rested arrogantly on Jimin's features, a single pinky finger extended towards you.

"Don't give this situation a not-so-secret code name. And I can't believe I'm saying this but, I promise." You agreed, interlocking pinky fingers, yours thumbs coming up to press against one another.

"So I'll meet you at the location Friday, don't be late, and wear something sexy. No granny clothes." he chirped, making his way to your front door.

"Wait! You're leaving already?" you frowned, looking at the clock on your wall. He's only been here for an hour, and 30 mins of it were spent persuading you to hurry up and lose your virginity. You didn't even get to finish the movie together.

"Sorry babe, but I have a dick appointment." he shrugged, putting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

"Can you at least tell me the name of the guy who's supposed to fuck me?" you huffed, honestly you were done for tonight. As soon as Jimin left, you were heading straight for bed.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget." Jimin slaps the center of his forehead. "He's a real cutie. I would fuck him if he wasn't as straight as an arrow." Jimin looks off to a far wall, eyeing it with jealousy.

"Just tell me his name, please." You pleaded. Oh yeah, that's definitely a headache forming. You could feel it already. Jimin snaps out of his daydreaming and spins his body towards you.

"Jungkook."

Time skip to a week later, and precisely as you suspected, what a mistake that whole conversation was. Now here you were at this fucking dorm party with people you didn't know or care to get to know. Jimin had left you as soon as he saw his next piece of ass. Restlessly you hauled down the short black dress that insisted on riding up your ass, the soles of your feet protesting in the slim heeled shoes. Floundering your way into the packed building, you couldn't help but query where Jungkook was. Jimin was supposed to get around to send you a picture of the mystery man, but that never happened. Funny how now was the best time you decided to question why exactly Jimin was your best friend.

"Well damn, the pictures Jimin sent me doesn't do you justice at all. You're fucking hot." You recoiled from the closeness of the voice, the heated breath sending chills skittering down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck ramrod straight. Heat spurred to your face when you whisked around to meet an absolutely gorgeous guy. Like unfairly gorgeous guy. You stared wide-eyed, taking in his chiseled facial features, paired with wide doe eyes and bunny smile decorating his face. Somehow, someway he's mastered looked soft and sexy at the same damn time. And fuck was that a dangerous combination for your pussy. Your heart too, but more so your cunt.

"U-uh, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You watch as he recoils back from your with a look of apprehension on his face.

"A-are you not ____?" he stutters cutely. You think you can see the beginnings of a blush burning his cheeks. You nod your head once to confirm his question. He stared at you a minute longer before you see the recognition spark in his chocolate orbs.

"Jimin didn't send you my picture did he?" Shaking his head with his eyes close, you get the courage the scan his face a bit more. Yeah. He's definitely blushing.

"Sorry. I guess seeing you here, I thought Jimin would have...prepared you better." Shaking your head from side to side because your words refused to come out. You watched as he backed up a bit further from your personal space and thrust his right hand out to you.

"The name's Jungkook, or J.K. Whatever suits your taste."

With clammy hands, you taking his outstretched hand marveled at how it almost covers your hand. Now that he's moved back from you, you now had to chance to see how tall he really was. Maybe about 6 to 7 inches taller. You look down at his feet and eye his combat boot, perhaps a little shorter but still taller. And big, yeah, definitely bigger. His oversized black jacket did little to hide the broadness of his shoulders and chest. You let your eyes travel down the length of his body. You bet he's hiding some killer abs under his shirt. And holy fuck, his thighs.

"You like what you see, baby girl?" Teasing, he's teasing but God, if his voice didn't make you pussy throbbing pathetically. Whimpering slightly, you let out a meek "Yes." God, you hope he didn't hear that.

Much to your dismay, he did, hear you. How he heard you with the music as loud as it was, was a mystery to you. But you watched his pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare slightly. Jungkook tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes rake up and down your scantily clad body. His heated stare scrutinized across your body, intrigue exerting over him, as he analyzed the way the snug-fitting dress molded to the curves of your shape. He could tell you didn't do this often. His dick twitched in his jeans with enthusiasm.

It's the increase in pressure of your hand that makes you realize you're still holding his hand. You go to retract your hand from his. However, yelp shrilly as he tugs you closer to his body. Both hands now resting on his chest, and his wrapped around your waist. Fuck, you could feel the warmth and coarseness of his hands through your thin dress. A spontaneous tremor racked your body. The heat-transmitting from his frame mixed with the floral yet musky undertone of his cologne made you somewhat featherbrained.

"Fuck, you're so soft." You squeak as he squeezes your waistline, pulling you even closer against his body. You were now putty in his hands.

"Jimin told you my....preferences, right?" his voice caressed your ear. Just a slight movement or subtle twitch, and his lips would be on your skin.

"Y-yeah, he did." It should be an embarrassment how frail and breathless you sounded, but that didn't matter.

Jungkook hid his smile behind your ear. This was just too easy. Just how he liked it. He almost felt bad- almost. He was gonna ruin you utterly and completely, mold the shape of cock in the walls of your pussy. His name spilling from your lips, voice going hoarse by how loud he would make you scream. Fuck he couldn't wait. He's had virgin's before, a lot of them. That's his whole M.O. The cherry popper, virgin fucker, whatever. Jungkook's heard all the names in the book. But there's just something about you, you just had an air of genuine innocence, and he couldn't wait to defile it.

Jungkook pulls his head back, enough to where his eyes can trail over the bared skin of your neck, and the sprinkling of perspiration sparkling off the bright strobing lights, no doubt from nervousness. His tongue traced over his thin upper lip, watching the droplets of sweat spiral down the curve of your neck. He wanted to taste you.

"Alright, then." He jerks his body away from you. You're no longer touching his chest, but his hands are still on your waist.

"Let's enjoy the party before the fun really begins. Every done body shots before?" Jungkook spoke casually, undeterred by the way you recoiled back or the look of stupor on your face.

"W-what? B-body shots, why?" you squeaked, failing to keep from stuttering over your words. Is this how it's supposed to go? Is this normal? You're bewildered, and just a bit perturbed. Were you just imagining that sexual tension that was going on just moments ago? For sure, you thought Jungkook was gonna throw you over his shoulders and haul you off to the nearest unoccupied bedroom or bathroom. At that instant, you didn't care.

Jungkook regarded the war of emotions wage across your features, merriment and strobing lights twinkling in his eyes. Fuck, you were cute, so desperate staring up at him with a pout on your face a puppy dog eyes. He could honestly just take you back to the closest room and fuck the shit out of you. But he wanted to play with his prey, a bit more. The wait made it that much more satisfying.

"Don't pout too much, baby girl or I may not be able to contain myself. Follow me. The table is this way."

Jungkook didn't indulge in answering any of your questions you rambled off at him, delighted to see you trailing on his heels like a lost pup. Jungkook directed you further into the dorm, and like a dog on a leash, you followed. In the center of a sparse room sat a scraped up black table. You observed the area. It was devoid of many people. The several that were present made no recognition of your proximity in their intoxicated state.

"So who's first?" Jungkook asked, setting the bottle of tequila, rim salt, and limes down on the table.

"U-uh, I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter." You shrugged hesitantly. You were way out of your element here.

"Perfect then, you first." Jungkook should be ashamed by how excited he was at getting to sample your skin. It looked smooth, felt soft when he had you in his arms, and would no doubt probably taste as sweet as it seemed. You nodded in docility, wandering over to crawl on top of the table, being attentive to your dress. You lay flattened against the table, shiverings racking your body as he began pouring a trail of salt between your cleavage.

He poured himself a shot in the depression of your throat and tore the lime in half with his bare hands. Smirking at how you flinched when he thumped the liquor bottle down beside your head. Jungkook pushed the other half of the unevenly split lime towards your lips, a silent gesture to take the lime in your mouth. Jungkook watched as your lips curled gently around the hull of the green citrus. A flare of lust stirred in his loins at the action. He couldn't wait to see your lips stretched around the head of his cock. He observed your eyes clamped closed as he began dropping his head forward to your chest. It was adorable and innocent. He noted the way your lips slackened around the citrus in your mouth, your chest heaving in speed, the closer his tongue trailed to your neck.

You tasted splendid, just as sweet as he thought. The salt on your skin did nothing to deter your natural flavor. If anything, it enhanced your sweetness, rendering your skin damn near mouth-watering. Jungkook's ears perked at the breathless moans slipping past the fruit perched against your lips, drawn out by the repeated pass of the wet, pink appendage lapping at the salt line between the valley of your breast. Committing your muffled moans to memory, he lapped persistently at the collection of salt and tequila in the hollow at the base of your neck.

You face flammed in embarrassment as panting moans effortlessly tumbled from your mouth. Who knew your chest and neck was such an erogenous spot. Despite your shame, you couldn't stop wriggling, shifting your thighs together for some form of friction to sate the rising arousal dampening your panties. You yelped at the sensation of blunt teeth nibbling at your skin before soft lips came to suck at the shallow indentations. Fluffy hair with an undercut came into your line of vision as Jungkook lifted his head up to your lips. Your heart stammered tortuously against your ribs, flirtatious eyes stared lidded with searing lust, his head advanced closer to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering against the bitter hull of the lime.

Jungkook closed the distance, slanting his mouth over the lime, blocking his contact with yours. He sucked against the sour fruit, acidity puckering his lips, residual tartness flowing to your cracked lips. Jungkook withdrew from your mouth, taking the drained lime hull with it. Your saccharine moans were heaven to his ears. It had awoken something inside him, fueled his fire in knowing that possibly no one had ever heard such a sweet sound. He wanted more, craved more.

"Have you ever been kissed before, sweetheart?" Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue, poking out to moistening his lips.

"Yeah, once in like 3rd grade." Who hasn't snuck behind a tree or hid underneath the dark coverings of playground equipment to lock lips with a childhood crush?

He grinned salaciously, body moving to rest between your spread legs. Oh, now he was really excited. Your lips were practically untouched. Just another part of your body to claim first. You jumped when palms pressed flat against the revealed skin of your thigh. Gently, Jungkook rubbed lazy circles on your skin, never lowering or furthering than the hem of your dress. He felt you wiggle beneath his hands, observed your eyes, glimpsing―darting about, should you concentrate on his face, or his hand, uncertainty was etched on your face.

"Amazing." He groaned, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, before grinning again. His face inched closer to yours, his lips but a breath apart, warmth flickered against your lips as he talked, level and smooth. " Well, how about I become your second?

And then his lips were on you, the soft muscle mangled itself to your lips, tentative and sluggish to give you a chance to register his mouth slanted upon yours. Jungkook chuckled against your lips at your unresponsiveness. He guesses you were a little shell shocked. It only takes a few more stagnant seconds before you're shyly reciprocating his kiss. Delicate, shaky movements highlighted your inexperience. Increasingly, Jungkook increased the pressure behind lips, his hands spreading to enclose around your waist, dragging you closer against him. One of Jungkook's hands removed from your waist to bury itself in your hair, gently his fingernails scratched against your scalp, an airy moan was his reward.

Hands completely abandoning your midsection, one gripped the meat of your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the table, flush against the tent of his denim jean encased manhood, the other embedded in your strands pulled sharply on your roots, a loud gasp tearing from you. Jungkook took that opportunity to advance his tongue into your gaped mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around yours, briefly wrestling for dominance before easily pinning your tongue in submission. His hips ground against yours, the heat of your covered core teased him through his jeans.

He thoroughly explored your mouth, swallowing the now copious cries leaving your mouth. Reluctantly, Jungkook tore himself from your kiss-swollen lips. The ravished looked suited you perfectly. You looked beautiful, thighs brazenly spread, eyes glazed over in lust, your sticky chest heaving from the length of the shared kiss. Even in the dim lights, he could make out the taunt pebbling of your nipples.

Your mouth gaped wide, flapping about like a fish out of water, trying despairingly to draw air into your lungs. Your first kiss definitely didn't compare to this much. Your wide eyes flicked between Jungkook and the floor, your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, feeling shy as he just stares at you. Releasing your teeth from your lips, you timidly touched your mouth, admiring how plump they've gotten from the intense liplock.

Wordlessly Jungkook hitched you over his shoulder, winded with a grunt as his defined shoulder blades dug into your stomach and what sounded like a growled vibrate up into you. You squirmed lightly in his hold, scared he was going to drop you, and secondly, your panty-clad ass on display for the party-goers, not that anyone was looking.

You watched the continuous panels of hardwood floor move beneath you as Jungkook carried you to an unknown destination. You couldn't believe you were really doing this. Were you actually going to have sex with a complete stranger? Someone who was known for explicitly fucking virgins. Realistically, you should be ashamed, yet, you conceded full control to him without a second thought. What did that say about you? About your character? Would you now be labeled as 'easy' or a 'hoe' after all this was done? What was going to happen between you and Jungkook?

The flick of a switch stirred from your thoughts. You shield your eyes with your hand at the bright lights pouring into the room, or rather a bathroom. Jungkook loved the confusion marring your features. He wouldn't fuck you in his bedroom just yet. That was a privilege you would have to earn, no matter how intrigued he had become with you. There's always humiliation to be had in the corruption of innocence, and fucking you in the bathroom was a good start. He planned on making you watch him as he destroyed your body, popping your cherry, stretching your tight virginal hole to accommodate his length, and claimed it as his own. Jungkook shuddered at the thought, his possessive nature taking a turn for the worst.

Impatiently Jungkook sat you on top of the bathroom sink counter, his lips smashed against yours, the previous tenderness was gone, vanished into a puff of smoke. Teeth banged, and tongues flailed recklessly against each other in the heat of passion, with you struggling to keep up with the demands of his dominating kiss. Thick fingers trailed beneath the hem of your dress, tickling the expanse of your thighs. Jungkook wasted no time in shifting your slick soaked panties to the side, a warm digit gliding effortlessly through your damn folds.

"Fuck, you're already so wet. You're enjoying this a little too much, baby girl." Jungkook growled, panting against your lips. His finger breached your sex, you tensed deftly around the foreigner intrusion, stretching your weeping walls.

"Ah, Jungkook." You cried listlessly, rocking your hips against his stilled finger. He felt so good inside you, and it was just his finger. Maybe this experience wouldn't be as bad as you heard. Now you couldn't wait to see what his cock felt like embedded deep within your pussy. Jungkook pumped slowly, eventually introducing a second finger to help loosen you up more. You were gonna be a tight fit, very tight, but that just made it even better. You hissed at the slight burn as he began scissoring his fingers apart with each withdrawal. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you buried your head against his broad chest, your mellifluous moans suppressed by the fabric of his shirt.

"G-go faster, please." You begged, your body adjusting and quickly becoming frustrated by the snail's pace his fingers were pumping. You bucked your hips against his hands, hoping he would ease the growing discomfort boiling in your stomach.

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, babe?" You nodded eagerly at his question, whining as you bucked against his hand again.

"Oh, really? Who gave it to you." Slow, he was going too slow you wanted, no you needed more friction, more stimulation from him.

"M-me. I-i did." Jungkook loved how you stuttered, it stroked his ego and filled him with arrogance to know it was him, and only that was capable of making you stumble over your words.

"Mmm, and how did you do it? Did you rub this little clit of yours raw?" You cried louder when his thumb flicked at your clit, the stimulation further drawing the appendage from its hood.

"Or did you fuck this tight hole, with these tiny fingers of yours?" At those words, a loud, choked moan, even muffled by your face in his chest, echoed throughout the white bathroom. Jungkook had gone deeper inside, almost to the third knuckle. Another moan left your lips as he twisted his fingers inside you, his palm now facing upwards.

"Though you and I bought know they couldn't possibly reach deep enough to touch the spot you really want." It's euphoric, no better yet orgasmic, the sheer shock of electric pleasure that zaps through your body when he finds the spongy bundle of nerves. Your body jerked heavily, legs go to snap close, only to be stopped by his broad body between your thighs.

He chuckles softly, stroking your thigh with his other hand. Jungkook shifts his head down, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He exhales quietly, warm air tinged with tequila and lime caresses the light hairs on you around your ear. " I found it, huh?"

You whimper, rubbing your head up and down against his chest.

"You want me to speed up the pace, sweetheart?" Jungkook's voice is delicate now, so gentle. But you're confused, overwhelmed, and scared. It's never felt like this when you did it yourself. Your not sure if you could handle the feeling, so you don't provide an answer to Jungkook's question.

"Don't ignore me ____, that's not nice manners. I'll ask again." You clench around his fingers as Jungkook inches just a bit deeper.

"Do you. Want me. To go faster?" With each pause, he arches his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pressing deeply against your bundle of nerves, the sensation of having to pee accompanied with each thrust.

"Y-yes, faster, more. Pl-lease." Fuck, you sounded so pretty begging for him if he wasn't addicted before. You had him sprung now. Jungkook buried his face in the crook of your neck, the sharp smell of tequila and salt still lingering on your skin. He sucked at the junction where your shoulder and neck met. You bucked harder against his fingers, your juices now dripping to coat his palm is sticky cream.

"If you wanted more. Why didn't you just ask?" Jungkook said deviously. Confused, you felt withdraw his sticky digits, walls gripping to stop their departure. Without warning, Jungkook flipped you over onto the counter, your knees buckled at the sudden change in position. Your faced burning at your displayed state, droplets of your essence dribbled from your pussy, slicking up your inner thighs. You yelped as Jungkook grasped at the length of your hair, pulling back pointedly, your neck craned back to observe him addressing you in the mirror.

"You've been wondrous for me ____. Such a sweet girl." He expressed, his empty hand disappearing behind your perked ass to fiddle with the groin of his pants.

"Truly, you have. Your response and reactions to my touch have really gotten me riled up. It's been a while since I've tittered on the edge of losing control." You wheezed, starting to panic as you felt the thick head of his cock slap teasingly against your slicked throbbing hole. Oh, God, he's huge. Jungkook's cock might just tear you apart. You shifted your hips forward, pressing against the cold marble of the bathroom counters door.

"I-i don't think, I can t-take it Jungkook, you're too b-big. It's my first-time, r-remember?” Your stuttering worse now, but you're scared.

Jungkook pulls your hips back with the hand the was grasping his length, the side of your hip now coated in his pre-cum. His hand lays flat in the crease of your back, forcing you into a perfect arch.

"You can take it, all of it. And don't worry, of course, I remembered your fragility. I'll go slow, I promise." You plead silently with your eye contact through the mirror.

"You ready?" You nod once an advert your eyes down to the sink.

Your mouth shakily falls agape as he slowly began pushing the head of his cock into you. It burns, but not as bad as you had anticipated. You take the chance to look back up into the mirror, adamant about giving Jungkook a thankful smile for his gentleness. That vision that greets looks like it jumped right off the page of your favorite erotic story.

Jungkook's got his head thrown back, the edge of his t-shirt clenched tightly between his teeth, your eyes trail the drip of sweat that follows the curve of his jawline. You have a clear view of his abs all the way down to the v-cut of his hip, to the happy trail that leads to a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair. You clench tightly around him, efficiently aroused by the view. You feel his cock throbbed heavily inside you, even getting bigger if possible.

"You like that, sweet girl? You like seeing me struggling to contain myself because you're so tightly around me. This little pussy trying to milk me for all I can give you." You love it. You feel powerful in a way. Do you really feel that good around him?

"Yes." Jungkook draws out the 'S.'

"You feel amazing, so warm and wet. I wished you could see how coated in white you've got me, and I'm not even all the way in yet."

You scream soundless as he bucks into you, shoving in half of his length. It doesn't hurt anymore. You just feel stuffed full. Lifting a trembling hand, you take the chance a feel the lower part. You noticed swelling that wasn't there before, intrigued; you push down against it, moaning in shock you realize it's Jungkook's cock.

"Yeah, baby girl, that's all me, well, most of me. You ready to take the rest?"

"Yes! Please!" That's the clearest you've been all night. You don't get an answer as Jungkook immediately picks up his pacing, thrusting into you faster. He wastes no time pumping deeply into your tight pussy, his tip smashing against the entrance to your cervix as you pant and grit your teeth in slight discomfort, overshadowed by pleasure. The burning sensation is back as he fucks in deeper with each brutal and swift stroke. But you don't care cause it still feels amazing. You can hear yourself, sloppy and soaking wet, echoing throughout the bathroom. You're drooling down his pistoning cock. You can feel it dripping down your inner thighs. Your head jerks violently against your shoulders, to weak support your head from his menacing thrust.

Tightened vocal cords released strained shrieks of praise; from your mouth, drool dripping from your lips, into the sticky cleavage of your breast, and sweat coated your skin. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, never had you felt anything so deep inside you. If you ever had sex with anyone else, they would never compare to Jungkook. You were fucked both figuratively and literally.

Jungkook pulled you further from off the sink, the new position allowing him even deeper. You clawed at the marble tops underneath your fingers, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. That sensation of having to pee is back again.

"J-K, I-m. I have to-," You don't get to finish as the band in your stomach snapped. Silently you announced your release; if it wasn't for the new wave of cum coating his cock, or the fluttering tightness of your walls, Jungkook might have missed your orgasm. He wasn't far behind you. The constant clenching of your ridged walls around his cock, had him reaching his limit sooner than he would like. Jungkook had half a mind to pull out but decided to gamble his odds. You're the first person he's fucked raw in a while, and with three deep thrusts later, he was shooting his hot seed right against your cervix.

Breathing heavily, Jungkook lets you fall against the sink, observing as you crumpled against the sink countertop. Pride swelled his chest as he watched his seed bubble out of your well-used hole. He's never contemplated going farther with the virgins he fucked. He wouldn't make any hasty decisions now though there were still a lot of things he wanted to do with you. He would sleep on it and revisit the idea in the morning.

"So would you say, Operation: Pop Your Cherry was a success?"

You giggled, winded, still having difficulty catching your breath. You straighten up against the bathroom counter, the majority of your weight still resting on the object as you had yet to regain the feeling in your legs.

"Jimin and his stupid code names. I swear when I get a hold ass, he's dead." You warned already preparing your revenge on your best friend. You stare at Jungkook in the eyes through the mirror, smile a bit goofy, you say.

"Operation: Pop My Cherry. Mission complete."

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts oneshot #bts smut reactions #bts #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts college au #jungkook college au #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #ao3 #jungkook x reader

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gaecactae · 3 years

Text

This is going to be a bit of a post, so if you would like to hear me out about Sam, go under the cut! It does contain spoilers from today’s lore.

Let’s talk about Awesamdude today! Since a lot happened in the lore today and Sam showed us the new face of angry Warden, a lot of people are hating his character completely. So yeah it will all be rp focused, not the content creator!! Just so we know.

So shall we begin.

Sam, Awesamdude, is, as a little introduction, one of the first, original DSMP members that joined ever. He’s very good with redstone, having his secret base in BadLands, far away from the SMP terrains. The whole place was first protected by complicated mechanisms, now it’s no longer too secret.

Sam was known as one of those more responsible adults on the server, the one that protects, the one that cares more about the younger members, etc.

We’re going to focus on the prison situation mostly, okay?

Sam picked up his duty as a Warden, since he was the one that built it, easy as that. As a reminder, the Prison was built as a commission, coming from Dream.

Lore wise, we know Sam is technically always in the Prison, always making sure Dream is stuck inside, this is his duty. He said this couple of times, that he WILL care more about keeping Dream locked up, than saving individuals in extreme situations. There are rules in the prison that he swore to go by. EVERYONE comes under them, as they sign the book.

I mean… look at him. He is there for the whole time, on his own, lore wise we know he hears the Guardian noises for the whole time, maybe he hears Dream’s distant maniacal laughter somewhere in the back; I mean come on. The Prison is such a hollow place and he’s there for the whole time basically. How can you not be tired of it?

What about the guards he hired? No one is ever here to back him up, I saw them in action once and if I remember well - it was when Tubbo built dicks on the top of the prison’s roof and they were intervening.

It’s just… I dunno, but if we are all so eager to embrace and take personally Tommy’s lore and Ranboo’s lore and live with it - why don’t we do that will everyone? I think Sam completely deserved to have his lore taken seriously and good look at.

He is not only the prison worker that allows people to die inside. Sam is responsible for keeping Dream locked up, he is not responsible for what Dream does. Furthermore - every single person that walks into the prison KNOWS what Dream can do, THEY are making the decision to go inside. No one is pushing them to do that.

It’s also not that he will wash his hands off what happened. He was petrified when Tommy was murdered inside the prison but what could he do? Sam is trying hard, and he’s not perfect, he makes a lot of mistakes and it shows. But he’s certainly doing more well thought things and is being more reasonable about the whole Dream situation, then anyone else.

Again looking lorewise, he is tired. People are constantly fucking with him, I mean this constant messing around the prison which he treats very seriously, messing with him as a Warden. Time for Ponk’s situation.

For those who don’t know - Ponk once stole Sam’s access keys to the prison that apparently weren’t working anymore cause he changed them out at some point. He found them in some chest by his house, there were 11 of them.

If you know me, you will know I absolutely love Ponk. I love to listen to him and to watch him, it’s entertaining. But I knew that by taking the keycards, he is doing exactly what Tubbo was doing by building penises on the roof - messing with the prison, interrupting Sam’s duties.

Cutting off his hand was definitely not the way to go, Sam messed up with how brutal he appeared. Though I can see why he was acting this way.

Prison is his job, he is taking it as serious as he can. It has its rules, once again, and you know what? Everyone come under those rules, even Sam’s beloved one, like Ponk! He can’t make exceptions.

Thus I was so surprised by Sam’s deeds today. Sam had 100% right to kill Tommy instantly for sneaking inside like this. Of course Tommy didn’t want to break Dream out - but how can Sam know? Sam doesn’t know his real intentions, you think he will listen to Tommy say he wanted to break in and kill Dream, he will be like “oh yeah ok sure well here’s all my set go on”?

Sam doesn’t trust Tommy, but oh well, Tommy doesn’t trust Sam anymore as well.

I won’t ever agree with people that say that what happened today wasn’t Tommy’s fault. It was, is and will be Tommy’s fault. Seriously, don’t glorify Tommy for being Tommy and being a minor. It’s… to say at least, a weird reasoning.

Look. I understand we’re all protecting Tommy and Tubbo and Ranboo, because they are younger, they were put through a lot - but as you can see, they can sort it out on themselves! Tommy was fighting his traumas just the other day, it obviously doesn’t mean he’s completely fine, but he seriously doesn’t need to be protected, or glorified all the way. It’s tiring seeing people constantly blame every single incident on anyone around, but Tommy. That’s seriously… it’s not how it works yall.

On the same time, obviously - it was Dream’s responsibility for killing Ghostbur, who was the most damaged in the whole situation today. I mean, man’s in afterlife now damn

But back to Sam - I’m completely convinced he’s not the one to blame. At least not for everything but there is something that’s called “a talk” that could have happened between Tommy and Sam, about the prison and keeping Dream like this and maybe considering ending this all. It could have happened completely different way, and it was very disappointing to see Tommy’s character that was already so nicely improving, to flop back down and hear him just spit “fuck you’s” at Sam, victimising himself in the whole thing.

I don’t plan on changing my mind on this, if you’re wondering.

And I bet there’s plenty of stuff I forgot that I wanted to mention, so if I remind myself about them - they will probably be added in the comments

Thank you for reading! I hope English isn’t scuffed too much, my thoughts were flying a bit, because it’s 4:30am as I write this so yea heuh

#dream smp #dreamsmp theory #dream smp awesamdude #awesamdude

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scandalsavagefanfic · 3 years

Note

Hello! I am a huge fan of ur writing. I've loved everything I've read of yours. I've read alot of what you've posted, except for a couple of the tags that are squicky for me (so I'm very thankful you tag very thoroughly). No judgement for the squick, it's just not for me. & when I'm having a bad day, I usually just go thru ur ao3 and find something to reread. I think about Therapy's Bruce & Jason every damn day. While I obvs appreciate ur darker more "problematic" content (I really vibe with some of the themes you write about bc of my own trauma, & so it's very cathartic to read about in a fictional setting), I am truly a sucker for ur more happy content. The Happily Ever After verse also lives in my head rent free. Idk more wholesome stuff just seems more special when you write it. Anyways. I would die for you. But the point of this ask is cause I'm curious as to why you don't like Urban Legends? I'm sorry if you already talked about it here or on twitter and I missed it. I was just wondering because I really enjoy your take on things and would love to hear why you dislike it. I've been enjoying it so far personally, but I am always open to DC comics criticism.

Aw thank you so much! I'm so flattered by everything you just said. You're so sweet ❤❤❤❤❤

I haven't talked about Urban Legends here or twitter (I haven't been very active in either place lately. Just a lot going on and no energy 😔) but I'm happy to do it here.

Before I start though, I just want to add a standard disclaimer and make it clear that if you like it, there's nothing wrong with that and you don't have to let me ruin it for you lol. Like what you like.

That said, since you asked...

I said this when I was talking about it on discord, that there is a difference between hope and expectation. I always hope that a new story centered on Jason (or anyone really, but things have been especially egregious for Jay for 15 years) will be good or at least treat the character with a minimal level of respect (to be honest, the bar is super fucking low). But my expectations always temper my hope, to keep it from getting unrealistic. Because my expectations are based on experience.

The long history of Jason Todd, since even before his resurrection, has been one of retroactively trying to make him "a bad seed" in order to absolve Bruce of any responsibility in his death.

I don't even expect DC or their writers to start honoring the fact that Jason was not an angry, reckless Robin (and less of the later than Dick or Tim and definitely Damian). There plenty of ways that retcon can be folded into his history and be compelling and sympathetic. And if they're going to stick with that retcon, I'm only asking that they do it in one of those compelling and sympathetic ways because Jason was 15 when he died, heroically, in one of the most selfless acts in comics, to save a woman who literally handed him over to be brutally murdered. He was 12 when Bruce plucked him off the streets, he'd been homeless and fending for himself for at least two years. I personally think that Jason's story hits harder for him and Bruce if their original, canon relationship, of Jason as starry-eyed and eager to learn and absolutely devoted to Bruce and Bruce to Jason, is preserved. But Jason's origins does leave room for a meaningful interpretation of him as angry and frustrated at the lack of meaningful results of Bruce's methods.

And that's really where my irritation at stories like Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer and Batman The Adventure Continues has it's roots.

Every time one of these stories comes out, I think (or hope, rather) that this will be the one that remembers and respects the origins of the Jason and the Red Hood, that takes into account the changed sensibilities of comics readers in the 30 years since Jason's death and the subtle, 20 year, retroactive campaign to make him the "bad Robin". The "born bad" trope is played out and literally no one likes the message it implies. That some kids are just bad eggs and there's nothing parents or the adults around them can do. Especially when it's played as the kid's fault. If Jason's time as Robin is going to be characterized by anger, then it should be rooted in anger at the social injustices he witnessed as he grew up in an impoverished, crime-ridden, area and the horrors he faced raising himself when every day was a battle for survival. There are topical, meaningful, stories to tell with that backdrop.

But those are never the stories we get.

⚠⚠ Spoilers for Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer ⚠⚠

I'm particularly disappointed in Urban Legends because for the first issue, it looked like that was the kind of story we were going to get. I was put off by the first flashback of Jason being mesmerized by Bruce's guns, and I got that feeling in my gut that it was a bad sign. Jason depicted as impatient and overconfident and the scene with the guns is heavy-handed foreshadowing that got my spidey-sense tingling. I had a inkling then (in the first three pages) of how this story was going to play out, but it was early and I could still see many narrative paths that could lead to a satisfying story. My concerns were soothed somewhat and the little flame of my hope fanned, with the flashback of Alfred scolding Bruce, with Barbara's concern for Jason. A bit of worry returned with the way Jason ruthlessly pursued an addict who didn't appear to be a dealer and with the ending of the issue. The stuff with the addict sat wrong with me but the ending was tempered some by how despicable Tyler's dad was written. The scene was clearly set so that the reader could sympathize with Jason's decision and the scene with the addict could be brushed aside as a side-effect of comics over-the-top need for constant action, so I still held hope.

Issue 2 made me uncomfortable and it's where my hope starts to take a backseat to my expectations. I can dismiss Jason's self-deprecating internal monologue as unreliable narration, except that the flashback reinforces his thought process to explicitly show that it's not unreliable narration, and should be taken at face value. Jason faces physical abuse at the hands of his mother's drug dealer and when the flashback continues later, Jason kills the drug dealer. To be clear, this is a pre-Bruce Jason. His mom is still alive. He's like... 10. He kills this guy for shoving his head into a wall and implying Jason's mother paid for her drugs with sex. This is a scene that serves a single purpose. To show that Jason has always been prone to violence.

In the spirit of full disclosure, there is the small chance the drug dealer might not be dead. But the story obviously wants the reader to think he is, and it hasn't done anything to change that yet.

Starlin already did this story with The Diplomat’s Son in 1988 and he did it infinitely better. AND that’s still technically canon. So now I’m supposed to believe that Jason lost his cool bad enough to kill two douche bags before his sweet 16? Like it’s totally normal for abused kids raised in poverty, who’ve led hard and heartbreaking lives to just... haul off and kill people? That’s bullshit, and when taken with the Jason in the third issue, who is little more than an idiot thug, this story is really doubling down on some fucked up stereotypes.

Which brings us to the most recent issue. I went into this installment with very low expectations. I thought this story was going to be about Jason, through this experience with Tyler, a young boy with a similar background to Jason's, coming to the realization that Bruce's way is the best way and that Bruce did his best by Jason.

That would be annoying (in no small part because it takes increasingly absurd levels of plot armor to keep Bruce's no kill rule relevant, let alone irrefutably right). But I can probably live with that, if only because maybe if Jason officially falls back into line with the Bats crusade, maybe I'll get stories that treat him with respect, stories that don't relegate him to comic relief, dumb brute, or a background body with no lines in a story about the Joker burning Gotham (like Jason would just fucking stand there quietly for that).

And that may still be where the story is going, Jason realizing Bruce is right.

But holy shit do I not have the right words to describe how fucking insulting and gross issue three is.

From start to finish--including the flashback--Jason is written as cruel and fucking stupid. Like straight up dumb.

The entire issue is Bruce explaining the fucking basics to Jason like it's his first day. And Jason flies off the fucking handle and terrorizes a doctor he knows isn't a part of making the Cheerdrops, beats the shit out of some random addicts, and finally, when he can't accomplish anything on his own because he's a dumb brute he calls Barbara for help and rushes in with no information where he's promptly incapacitated and must now wait to be rescued by Batman.

This panel is the least of the issues sins but I can’t screenshot the entire story but it’s representative of the tone for the whole issue (and retroactively tainted the prior two issues).

This is beyond insulting. The only conclusions Jason comes to in this issue are the ones Bruce leads him to by talking to him like he can’t make the simplest connections. And like... in this story Jason can’t make the simplest connections.

This (and the Jason throughout the entirety of this issue) is a far cry from the Jason we fell in love with in Under the Red Hood, who was competent and strategic and intelligent enough to seize control of Gotham’s underworld from Black Mask (who’s no fucking slouch, he’s the first and only person to unify organized crime in Gotham) AND elude and manipulate Bruce until the time and place of his choosing.

This is a far cry from even the Red Hood and the Outlaws Jason who is competent enough to fight the League of Shadows and Ra’s al Ghul (among very dangerous and skilled others) and smart enough to create antidotes for mind control nanotech viruses.

As he should be, by the way. Jason Todd is one of the best, most comprehensively trained fighters in DC’s stable of non powered vigilantes. He’s not irrational or hot headed. He’s pragmatic, tactically minded, and patient. He’s a detective. Right now. Has been since he was 12. Bruce doesn’t have to make him one because he already is.

Jason is not a stupid thug who uses his fists because his brain doesn’t work. And I can’t tell you how so very exhausted I am by this narrative.

This is actually the most egregious example of Jason’s skills and intelligence being not just undermined but dismissed entirely. Even Morrison’s Jason had some degree of competency.

The one, single redeeming factor of this story is the art. It’s beautiful. And Marcus To is a godsend he seems to be one of only a couple of artists who remember that Jason was a child when he was Robin and I’m literally only buying this book because of him.

Anyway, I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to come out so... um... passionately lol. I’m just very very tired. My intention with this isn’t to ruin it for you, if you like it, that’s fine.

But this issue shot this story to the top of my "Vehemently Despise” list. 1) Batman: Urban Legends (Cheer), 2) Battle for the Cowl/Morrison’s Batman and Robin, 3) Batman The Adventure Continues.

I hope the next issues somehow salvage this dumpster fire. But I’m not expecting it.

(Damnit. That sounded harsh again. To reiterate, I’m not trying to judge anyone who enjoys it, I just personally hate it and you asked me why lol 😅)

#Batman #red hood #batman: urban legends #nice art #shit story #or at least shit characterization #jason todd deserves better #this response got long and I didn't edit it #please forgive any errors #and/or unclear spots #spoilers

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Ruin It.

18+ Spencer Reid x Ethan

Summary: Spencer never had sleepovers as a kid, so now that he's an adult he's always sleeping over at Ethan's house, ad he'll take any excuse to crawl into bed beside him.

Warnings: mutual pining, love concessions, blowjobs, handjobs, anal sex (both top and bottom spencer in this), childhood friends to lovers

word count: 5.4K

a/n: this is for @imagining-in-the-margins only 1 bed event!! using the prompts: "College!AU where you think you’re crawling into bed with your friend at a party but it’s actually (Character), the person you’ve been crushing on, who is too scared to kick you out" and "Spencer keeps telling you random facts in the middle of the night"

College sucked. Classes weren’t too bad, the workload was manageable when you had no life, the hardest part was that he felt alone most of the time.

His roommates were nice, but they were constant party people and he wasn’t. He liked the occasional party and light drinking, not getting sloshed every single night. He wrote his essays, he went to class, and on the weekends he went to visit Ethan.

He wasn’t allowed to have sleepovers as a child, and he was a little too afraid to let anyone see his mom like that. So as soon as he moved out, he started sleeping at Ethan's house or inviting him to his dorm room. It was a little tradition that Spencer loved.

He also loved Ethan; more than he’d ever tell him. He’s loved him since the moment he saw him at the gifted kid's high school orientation, and it’s slowly grown from a friendly love to unrequited pining. But it was okay, it was bearable. He saw Ethan a lot, they talked every day and being Ethan’s friend was honestly enough for him.

He was leaving class, looking down at his phone while he walked out the door so he could text Ethan and ask when he could come over. Pulling up his chat, he sat down on the bench by the door so he didn’t kill himself trying to text and walk. “I love that you can sit down beside me without even looking at me.” the man beside him said. Spencer looked up and it was Ethan.

“What the fuck?” was all he could say.

“I brought you a coffee cause you stayed up most of the night doing your essay.” He said softly, handing Spencer a Starbucks cup.

Spencer smiled, his heart-melting and seeping into his stomach to feel like butterflies. “Thank you,” he said before taking a sip, it was his classic overly sweet coffee. “Did you want to come back to mine for a bit or go to yours?” Spencer asked.

Ethan stood up, taking Spencer’s bag from him and putting it on his back, “come back to mine.” he suggested. Spencer couldn’t say no to him.

At Ethan’s they always ordered pizza, sitting at Ethan’s small glass dining table and discussing little things they hadn’t told each other yet from the week. Sure they called at night and texted all day but there were stories they saved for when they saw each other in person. Spencer cared for this tradition more than anything else, it made it feel more intimate.

Almost like a date.

After dinner, they’d watch something together, sat pressed together on Ethan’s tiny leather love seat and often sharing a blanket. More than once Ethan had fallen asleep and dipped down to Spencer’s shoulder, making his heart flutter more than usual. Today however he didn’t fall asleep.

They caught up on Doctor Who, getting way too invested in the show and arguing about the plot once it was over. Switching to the movie network, there was just a random sex scene playing, Ethan stopped switching channels and laughed lightly.

“What’s it like sleeping with a girl?” Spencer asked, lightly, embarrassed.

Ethan looked at him almost confused, “Oh, well I only slept with my ex and even then it was only a few times cause our parents were always home, but it was good.” He said, trying to play it up a little, “The first time was the best though cause it was new and exciting and my dick only knew my hand till then so it was pretty great.”

Spencer laughed at him, hard enough to bend at the waist and place his hand on Ethan’s thigh. “What?” Ethan said, he felt like smacking him.

“You’re funny,” Spencer replied with a grin. “So you’ve not slept with anyone else since her? It’s been like a year?”

Spencer knew how much time it had been and that Ethan broke up with her because she was moving away. What he didn’t know was that Ethan dumped her because he’s actually in love with someone else, someone who is currently sitting beside him and asking him questions about sex.

“I haven’t found a person yet that I want to sleep with, like don’t get me wrong I miss sex but like, I don’t want to fuck just anyone anymore,” he explained, staring down at his hands feeling the tiniest bit embarrassed. “I’ve tried sleeping around and the feelings after are too messy, I don’t like when they leave after.”

“What’s it like sleeping with guys?”

Ethan smiled, “It’s amazing, some guys are so tiny and soft and then other guys are rugged and buff and can slam you against a wall and fuck the shit out of you. It’s always different and always amazing.”

“Fuck,” Spencer whispered, feeling himself start to get hard as Ethan talked about getting fucked.

“I like girls, not a lot though,” Ethan said, shifting his body so he was looking more at Spencer and not just sitting beside him. His hand still on Spencer’s leg, “like tits are great and one time this girl was sitting on me while we made out so her hair was in my face and I loved that, I like long hair but I don’t think I want to sleep with women anymore.”

Ethan talking about sex in detail was starting to kill him, he raised one leg up to pull into his chest so his erection wasn’t visible under the blanket they were sharing. It was just a normal conversation…

“Are you staying out here tonight or coming to bed with me again?” Ethan asked to cut the silence.

“I’m going to stay out here if that’s okay?” Spencer replied, swallowing sharply.

“I’m going to shower and head to bed if that’s okay?” He said softly, running his thumb against the material of Spencer’s jeans.

“It’s your house, do what you want.” Spencer teased.

“I washed your pj’s from the last time you were here and they’re in the cupboard above the washing machine.” He said with a smile, getting up and leaving the room.

Spencer watched him walk away with a smile on his face the whole time.

He got up, ignoring his hard-on in the hopes it would just disappear on its own. He put his pj’s on and grabbed the throw pillows from the floor to get comfortable on the tiny couch. For being tiny it was actually much more comfortable than his dorms rock hard mattress.

He sat there in the living room, the tv still on for light and background noise. He heard Ethan singing lightly in the shower until eventually the water stopped and he heard Ethan walking around his room, probably putting his pj’s on and getting ready for bed himself.

Sometimes he’d come out and give Spencer a hug or tell him he loved him, platonically of course. He waited there, his phone resting on his chest while he listened carefully, hoping he’d see him one last time before he went to bed.

His phone buzzed on his chest.

Ethan: I don’t want to ruin the friendship, but we’re both horny and could help each other out.

Spencer read it 3 more times, blinking and rubbing his eyes. He couldn’t believe what he read. Without thinking it over he texted him back.

Spencer: ruin it.

Ethan opened his door and Spencer peaked his head over the back of the couch, they stared at each other softly for a moment. Spencer got up off the couch and met Ethan at his doorway, he placed a hand on his chest lightly, the shirt he threw on clinging to his damp skin underneath.

“How do we do this?” Spencer asked.

“I can bottom, you know cause you’ve never,” Ethan said softly, looking down ever so slightly to look into his eyes.

Spencer moved his hand up Ethan’s chest, along his neck till he was cupping Ethan’s face in his hand. He reached up and kissed him, backing him up into the room and lightly turning them so he could press Ethan against the wall. All he’s ever wanted to do was kiss Ethan, his lips always looked so soft and plump.

Boy, were they ever… Spencer almost melts into his touch as Ethan wrapped his hands around Spencer’s waist, pulling him in tighter and flicking his tongue across Spencer’s bottom lip. Spencer opened his mouth, letting Ethan’s tongue in. He tasted like toothpaste, his tongue was warm and soft against Spencer’s. Spencer pulled back, opening his eyes and locking them with Ethan’s once more.

He pulled back and ripped his t-shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor. “When the fuck did you get so hot?” Ethan asked, doing the same with his shirt.

“Always have been,” Spencer reminded him, “you just weren’t thinking with your dick the last time you looked at me.”

Ethan pulled him back in, connecting their mouths once more, making out with more heat and want than before. He ran his hands down Ethan’s bare chest, playing with the chest hair in his fingers a bit. Ethan broke the kiss, kissing down Spencer’s neck and he dipped down enough to reach behind Spencer’s thighs and pick him up.

Spencer shrieked in surprise, wrapping his arms around Ethan’s neck and gripping Ethan’s hair while he continued to kiss Spencer’s neck. He turned them around so Spencer was pressed against the wall, Spencer crossed his ankles so that he felt more secure against Ethan, hoisted in the air. It was so new, he’d never been manhandled like this before. He didn’t even know how to respond, he just moaned while Ethan nipped and sucked at his neck.

He thought he was hard before on the couch, but now he was aching. He thought he could cum right in his pants from the amount of attention Ethan was giving his neck. He ground down a bit, wanting to see if he could feel how hard Ethan was from that position, and he was right. Ethan pushed back up into him, grinding his rock-hard cock against his ass and groaning in Spencer’s ear.

“Eth,” he said, breathy with want. “Put me down.”

Ethan did as he asked, looking at Spencer with soft eyes, wondering what he wanted next. Spencer gripped the waistband of Ethan’s bottoms, tugging him to the bed and pushing him down. He let Ethan shuffle back till his head was on the pillow. He took his shirt off, threw it by the door, pushed his pj’s down to his ankles and stepped out climbed onto the bed, settling himself between Ethan’s legs.

He toyed with the waistband of his pj’s once more. He looked at Ethan for approval, waiting for him to nod ever so lightly while watching Spencer. he pulled them down, Ethan lifting his hips to assist.

Once his cock sprung free, laying against his stomach, Spencer felt his arousal rush through his whole body. He bit his lip looking down at it, long and thick. A pretty blue vein running along the side, the head sticking out just above his foreskin, his balls tight and beautiful. He was in awe.

“Have you done anything with a guy before?” Ethan asked softly.

“I’ve given a blowjob as a once,” Spencer replied, feeling the embarrassment flush his cheeks.

“Do whatever you're comfortable with, don’t try and wow me or anything.” he said softly, sitting up a bit and reaching a hand out to touch Spencer’s, “you’ve always wowed me, Spence.”

Spencer crawled over him, pushing him back against the bed. He stared into Ethan’s eyes for a moment, the light from the lamp making his skin shimmer.

Spencer pressed a kiss to his lips, “a lot of what I do is to impress you.”

He pulled back, licking his lip before biting the bottom one slightly. He worked his way down Ethan’s bed once more, kissing his hip and spreading Ethan’s legs slightly. Getting down low enough that his own cock rubbed against the bed making him groan a bit. He licked a stripe up Ethan’s length, all while looking up at him to watch him throw his head back in pleasure.

He took the tip in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before taking him further. Ethan reached his hand into Spencer’s, way too long, hair and played with his scalp. Spencer had a thing for people playing with his hair, he moaned around Ethan causing him to buck up into him.

Spencer let out a small choking noise as he pulled back, “Sorry.” Ethan whispered.

Spencer just hummed and kept sucking. Bobbing up and down on his wonderfully beautiful cock. He wanted to pinch himself and see if he was dreaming; see if he fell asleep on the couch and all of this was just in his head right now.

“Spence,” Ethan moaned, “just fuck me,” he pleaded.

Spencer pulled off with a pop, “where do you keep the lube?” Spencer asked.

“In the bathroom,” Ethan said, running the hand that was in Spencer’s hair down to his cheek softly. Almost too soft for a quick and easy fuck.

“You wouldn’t have to get up if you got a side table.” Spencer teased.

“What makes you think I’m getting up, you can get it.” Ethan shot back.

Spencer crawled back up him and got in real close, his lips barely touching Phils, “if you want me to fuck you, you’re going to have to get it.” he whispered, voice as low and sultry as he could get it.

Ethan gripped Spencer’s hips and flipped him, their faces still close. “You better fuck me good then,” he said before kissing him deeply once more. Pulling back and hopping off the bed, stepping out of his pants that were around his ankles.

Spencer laid there, rock hard and tenting his boxers. He reached down to palm himself, feeling the wet spot of precum camouflaged by the black fabric. He didn’t know if he should take them off or wait for Ethan to take them off, all he knew was that it felt good to be feeling himself up while he waited.

Ethan walked back into the room, cock bobbing as he did so. “Look at you,” he said, stopping in his tracks and looking Spencer up and down, not subtle at all. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Eth, have you ever seen yourself?” Spencer said, changing the topic, he wasn’t ever comfortable with compliments of any kind.

“Shut up and take your underwear off,” he ordered, getting onto the bed and standing on his knees.

Spencer pushed his pants down to his ankles and took them off, throwing them with the rest of his things so when it was all over and done he could gather them and leave. He knew the drill with one-night stands, and no matter how much he hoped this wasn’t that, it was.

Spencer laid there in the middle of the bed, Ethan smirked lightly before throwing a leg over Spencer and making his way up to sit on him. Spencer’s hands immediately made their way to rest on his soft, naked, hips.

He had stretch marks, a few freckles and a mole on the left side of his groin. His little tuffs of chest hair were dark and curly, matching his hair. Spencer took in the moment so thoroughly, memorizing the texture of his skin and the way his heart skipped a beat sometimes when he looked at Spencer for too long. How cute he looked in the yellow glow of the lamp on the other side of the room. How it cast a shadow of Ethan’s form onto Spencer’s body making him disappear into the moment, the way he wanted to.

Ethan ran his fingers down Spencer’s chest so lightly that it felt like feathers. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh. He leant down, using one hand to prop himself up beside Spencer’s head and the other to fiddle with the cap of the lube. His breath was hot on Spencer’s mouth while he watched Ethan get in position.

He was going to open himself up all whilst kissing Spencer. “This is still okay, right?” Spencer asked him.

“I’m literally about to finger myself and sit on your dick, so yes,” Ethan said with a small laugh.

Spencer laughed too, running his hands up Ethan’s back and holding him like a hug. He wondered if sex with Ethan was like this for his other partners if they felt happy and safe and full of laughter. The sex Spencer had before him was never like this, never fun or long-lasting. It was rushed and boring and pitiful.

Ethan kissed him again, soft pecks as Spencer felt Ethan’s arm moving between them. He moaned a little against Spencer’s mouth and he took that opportunity to lick his lip, feeling Ethan’s tongue against his own; hot and wet but also soft and wonderful.

He was so far gone for Ethan, he was truly fucked in more ways than one.

Ethan ground down into him and ripped him back to reality, the feeling of their cocks together was enough to have him cumming then and there.

Ethan pulled back, sitting back up he grabbed a condom that he must have brought with him from the bathroom. He opened it with his mouth trying to be seductive but only got some of the spermicides in his mouth and the foil stuck to his chin making Spencer laugh hard enough his stomach almost started to hurt.

“I fucking hate you,” Ethan said, rolling the condom down Spencer’s length.

“Really?” Spencer asked, head cocked, “cause it looks like we’re fucking, regardless?”

Ethan strokes a generous amount of lube onto him, “shut up! God, you’ve always been so annoying,” he says one last time, grabbing Spencer at the base of his cock and lowering himself onto it slowly.

Spencer’s never felt such immense pleasure in his life. He’s fooled around with people and fucked himself before but never in his entire life had he felt the intensity of the rings of muscle pulling him in slowly. Ethan just sat there on him once he bottomed out, Spencer wasn’t even looking at him now.

He had his head thrown back and his eyes closed while Ethan lifted himself and little and slammed back down, causing Spencer to let out the breathiest moan he’s ever produced.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

He pushed himself up on one arm enough to grab the back of Ethan’s neck and pull him down into a kiss. Ethan licked his bottom lip once more, skipping the soft kisses and immediately smashing their tongues together while he road him.

Ethan kept grinding on him, only fucking himself slightly, not getting all that he could. “Wait.” Spencer breathed, “get on your knees a bit more.” he instructed, and Ethan did as he was told.

Spencer was barely still in him, Ethan clenched around the head to keep him there while Spencer bent his knees, placing his feet flat on the bed so he could thrust up into Ethan relentlessly. Ethan moaned, again and again as Spencer fucked into him.

Spencer had never had that reaction, he’d also never expected Ethan to have such high-pitched breathy moans. Ethan held himself up with one arm while he jerked himself off with his other hand.

If Spencer wasn’t so close he’d probably want to cry just a bit. He always wanted to be with Ethan, since he was 17 he’s thought about a moment like this. And he still didn’t believe it was happening.

“Fuck Spence!” Ethan half screamed, cumming up Spencer’s chest, some of it hitting his neck and under his chin.

Spencer kept fucking him, he somehow got even fucking tighter and the heat in his stomach he had been ignoring to focus on the moment suddenly erupted into the condom. He didn’t make any noise, his whole body seized, he felt like he came for a good minute. His body had never felt pleasure like that in his life.

Ethan pulled off and flopped down beside him, staring up at the ceiling like Spencer was.

“What. The. Fuck?” Ethan said slowly, gasping for hair between each word.

Spencer didn’t answer, he didn’t even know if it was a question or a statement. He felt himself soften, he felt the cum getting cold on his chest and in the uncomfortable condom. His legs were too shaky to stand up yet. He sat up, reaching as best as he could off the bed for Ethan’s boxers and wiping himself off.

He took the condom off, tied it so it wouldn’t spill and threw it underhand into the garbage by Ethan’s dresser. He’s never been good at sports in his life but somehow got it in.

Boy did he ever get it in.

Ethan was still beside him, breathing a little less heavy and still very much naked. Spencer stood, seeing if he could handle it, Ethan reached out and grabbed his hand.

“You don’t have to go back to the couch. You can stay in here,” he said, laying over on his normal side of the bed.

Spencer, still naked, crawled over him to get to the inside of the bed, against the wall. Ethan gathered the sheets from the end of the bed, the same ones Spencer had sat on and slept under so many times in the last few years that he’s known Ethan. It wasn’t unusual for them to nap or sleep together, but it was weird to be naked.

“Here, put these on the windowsill?” Ethan said handing him the lube.

Spencer did so, watching as Ethan got out of bed, and turn the light off. Making his way back to the bed with the muscle memory of doing that probably every night. He crawled back into bed and moved to cuddle into Spencer.

“Are you a post-sex cuddler or no?” Ethan asked softly.

“Um, I think so?” Spencer replied, smiling and turning to his side, feeling Ethan’s naked and partly sweaty body press against him.

He felt content, like every fear he’d ever experienced left his memory and he melted into Ethan. falling asleep before he could take at the moment for when he’d need to relive it.

He’d slept in the same bed as Ethan before, that part wasn’t awkward. What was awkward was the fact Ethan’s bed was pressed against the wall, and Spencer’s side was against that wall. So if he wanted to sneak out to pee or just to leave and avoid whatever conversation and heartbreak that was to come, he was going to have to crawl over Ethan.

He moved a little too hard, looking at a way out that he woke Ethan. more like startled him. “Fuck Spencer,” he said, a different tone from the night before. “I forgot you were here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry I need to pee,” he said.

“Crawl over me I don’t care,” he said softly. Closing his eyes again.

Spencer did just that, very awkwardly and making Ethan grunt as Spencer accidentally pressed his weight on him. A string of “sorry”’s spewed out of Spencer’s mouth before he got off the bed. He grabbed his underwear as fast as he could and dashed to the bathroom.

He looked at himself in the mirror and was a little horrified. He didn’t know how to talk to his best friend anymore without thinking about how he was inside him and how much he’d like to do it again but the other way. All the ways. He loved him.

He was hard, of course, he was hard, it was morning. But he was also so enthralled in his thoughts of fucking Ethan again.

He peeked his head out the door, Ethan was sitting up, glasses on and phone in hand. “Mind if I shower?” he asked Ethan.

“Go for it, you know where everything is.” he smiled. “And if you want to go round two everything you need is under the sink,” he added, looking at the tent in Spencer’s underwear.

“Fuck,” Spencer whispered again.

“Go on. I’ll be here.”

He closed the door and pressed his back against it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he repeated once again before getting in the shower to do what he knew he needed to do.

He got out, breathing deeply as he wrapped himself in a towel and put everything back. He grabbed a condom while he was at it and made his way back into the room.

Ethan was there, laid back as he stroked himself lightly. Spencer dropped his towel and threw the condom at him, drying his hair off a bit more before he climbed into the bed and hovered over Ethan.

Ethan reached up and kissed him softly. So soft Spencer almost forgot he was about to get fucked for the first. Ethan wrapped his arms around him once more and flipped him onto his back like he had the night before. He sat on his knees between Spencer’s legs, putting the condom on and reaching for the lube on the windowsill.

Spencer placed his hands on his forehead before running them through the wet curls. He was anxious and ready. “Please,” he whispered.

Ethan smiled, he grabbed the pillow that Spencer had been cradling in his sleep and motioned for Spencer to lift his butt a bit, settling it under him. He took the lube and pumped some onto his 3 fingers, rubbing it together in his hands to warm it.

Spencer spread his legs more, watching in awe as Ethan swiped his index finger along his rim. His breathing picked up, his hands in his own hair got tighter as Ethan pushed in, reaching with his other hand to jerk Spencer off so there was more pleasure than uncomfortable stretching. But honestly, Spencer kinda loved the weird feeling of being full…

He pumped it in and out, twisting and curling it for what felt like too long. “Another,” Spencer insisted, “please?” he added.

He watched Ethan smile again before adding another finger making Spencer moan and shut his eyes, living in the wonderful feeling of butterflies escaping his stomach and running through his veins. It was exciting and new, it was somehow loving and dirty for a “round two” as Ethan called it.

Ethan added a third, without warning and Spencer moaned. Soft and breathy he imagined what the give and take of Ethan’s cock would feel like as opposed to his slender fingers. Lucky for him, he was going to find out soon. He bucked his hips at the thought and that was what lead Ethan to pull out.

“Have you ever had anything more than your fingers in you?” Ethan asked.

“Uh-”

“Only cause I don’t want to hurt you?” Ethan asked, his tone so soft and caring Spencer wondered if the guy he fucked last night was a clone.

“You’re good, just go slow,” Spencer said with a small smile.

“And you’re good on your back?” he asked, lubing himself up.

“Um, does it feel better in any other position?” he asked as innocently as he could for the middle of sex.

Ethan smiled again, he was going to have a sore face at this rate. “Face down ass up is good.” and there he was, dirty, flirty Ethan.

“Okay.”

Ethan backed up a bit so Spencer could rollover. He stuck his ass out, with no remorse, and steadied himself on his forearms on Ethan’s pillow. Ethan felt his ass cheeks, his slightly lubed hand not being able to grip as much.

He felt Ethan line up; the latex tip running against his hole and then ever so slowly, Ethan pushed in, an inch at a time, like someone who had the most self-control in the whole world. Unlike last night when he basically slammed himself down on Spencer’s dick.

It felt so good, the slow drag as he took him in, clenching as he did so to suck him in more and more while Ethan pushed in. the butterflies turned to lava and his whole body ran hot, warmer than it had ever been.

He bottomed out and stilled, “Please.” Spencer spat out, not even realizing how desperate he was.

He pulled back and that felt even more amazing, the drag back was jaw-dropping, but the push back and repeat. Holy fuck, Spencer was seeing stars. He understands Ethan’s little noises from last night on a whole new level. He couldn’t believe it was happening.

Just when it got good the thoughts crept in, this was Ethan. Ethan, the love of his life was fucking him and he couldn’t see him or touch him or kiss him and he felt like he was missing out on the moment, once again.

“Stop,” he cried and Ethan pulled out as fast as he could.

“What?” he asked, Spencer, turned over to see Ethan had his hands in the air as if the cops told him to put ‘em up. He’s panicking thinking he hurt Spencer.

Spencer covered his face and cried. “I’m ruining the moment,” he said, muffled through his hands.

“No, you’re not. It’s okay.” Ethan assured him. “What’s wrong?”

“I like you too much…”

“You actually love me,” Ethan whispers with a smile. “You talk in your sleep, you’ve told me that you love me almost every night since you’ve been staying here.”

Spencer is so embarrassed he covers his face, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay Spencer,” Ethan wraps him up in a hug, “I love you too, the same way you love me. I have for a long time.”

“Can we finish?” Spencer whispers against his neck, kissing him again as he thinks about the fact that the love of his life actually loves him back.

“Are you sure?” Ethan asked.

“Holy fuck, so sure,” Spencer whined.

Ethan lined back up, pushing in once more as Spencer bit his lip at the feeling. “I love you,” he admitted under his breath, completely awake this time.

“Good,” Ethan said before thrusting again. He tucked an arm under Spencer to pull him in closer and his other arm behind Spencer’s neck to kiss him.

Spencer wrapped his legs and arms around him. They kissed deeply while Ethan thrusted in and out of him. Their breathing was rigid and hot on each other's faces. Ethan moved to kiss Spencer’s cheek and jaw, down his neck and Spencer felt close again, right as Ethan hit his prostate.

“Fuck, Ethan, please?” he whined, “leave a mark, oh my god.”

Ethan sucked deeply and Spencer felt gone. He couldn’t believe it, he snaked a hand between them and jerked himself off. His body went fuzzy, that was the best way to explain it; he was shaking and moaning more than he ever had in his life. He came with a shout, running his nails down Ethan’s back and jerking up into his thrusts.

He thinks he might have passed out. He doesn’t remember Ethan finishing, but now Ethan’s cuddled into him, pulled out and there's a dull ache in his shoulder.

“Sorry?” Ethan mumbled.

“For what?” Spencer asked, winded as all hell.

Ethan kissed his shoulder, “for biting you..”

“Oh, I don’t remember anything after I came.” he admitted, “you fucked my brains out, dude.”

“I tell you I love you and you call me dude?” Ethan said, propping himself up to look Spencer in the eyes once more.

“Shut up, I love you,” Spencer said with a smile.

“I love you too.”

Ethan kissed him again, soft and lovingly. More so than any kiss he’d ever had. “All it took was getting you horny during Doctor Who and I finally got you into my bed,” Ethan giggled.

“Excuse me?” Spencer looked at him, blinking a few times. “I’ve wanted to do this since you told me you liked guys too.”

“We missed out on two years of good sex.”

Spencer kissed him again, smiling halfway through. “Shower with me again?” he whispered against Ethan’s lips.

“Wash my back and I’ll wash yours?” Ethan suggested.

“Always,” Spencer said, kissing him one last time.

But it wasn’t the last time. They kissed all day, and all night until Spencer left to go to his dorm. It felt good to be in love with his best friend. Sure, he went to bed lonely that night but he knew in the long run he wasn’t.

taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk @thatsonezesty13

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagin #spencer reid x ethan #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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catxsnow · 3 years

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BACK TO YOU W.W.

Request: Could I be so bold to request a Wally fic? Where he comes back after his "death" (lets be real we all know he is not dead) and Y/N reacts to it? Could it be fluff, angst, a little of both, that's up to you.

P.s. I love you 😊😊

Warning: angst, mentions of death (wallace), fluff

A/N: hello, good evening, I’m tired as fuck.

I’ve been thinking about a taglist lately so if there’s interest I’ll start one. I always suffer when I make it for some reason but if the people are interested I will suffer for y’all.

Word count: 2.3k

Wally coming back from the dead seemed surreal.

The hope you had for his return never diminished, even if those around you gave up long ago. Wally wasn't dead, he was never dead - he was just stuck in a place that no one could save him. Not Barry, not Bart, Not even Jay. Wally was the only one that could save himself and he had done it.

Broken, battered, and barely breathing he had made it out of the Speed Force. He had made it back to you. It put everyone into shock to see him collapsed in the middle of the team's headquarters. His suit was barely hanging to his body, eyes sunken in with exhaustion. He barely looked alive.

It took weeks to get him nourished back to health. Weeks of him being in a coma, wondering how the hell he managed to get back home. Sleeping at his bedside every night because you were scared this wasn't real or that he would be taken from you again. Long nights of crying because even if he was back, was he even going to wake up?

By the time that he was back up on his feet and running around again, every single league member had come to see him. Those who gave up on him, those who never lost hope, even those who never knew him.

Wally West was back.

Unfortunately, it seemed that a lot of him was still missing. His smile that once never left his face hadn't resurfaced once. The laugh that you remembered so clearly that got you through so many hard days vanished. The light in his eyes when he was running or saving lives was dull. He wasn't the same man you knew.

He teetered around you like a stranger even though every night he told you how grand his love for you was. You noticed him bumping into furniture that had moved from his time away or looking at pictures of people he didn't know with tears in his eyes. He stood by the window, watching for nearly an hour, just staring into the void every other day.

Wally wasn't all back from the Speed Force. He had lost a part of himself in there that he could never get back. Dick tried to fill in the gap of time that he missed, catching him up on everything that he missed but the moment that he came back to you he seemed more zoned out than ever. M'gann excitedly told him about her engagement with Conner, Kaldur with his new position in the league.

Everyone tried to make him feel right back at home, but no matter how hard they tried it would never be the same. Wally lost that time, and he was never going to get it back. He could never make it up to his friends for missing so many important moments in their lives or the grief that he put them through.

No matter how fast he ran, how many hours he stayed up wondering if things would have been different that day, none of that would change the fact that he had been missing for five years. Guilt plagued him, fear of being stuck back in there, he was in a constant state of terror because it was so damn easy for him to be lost the first time.

Nightmares woke him up every night. Sometimes he would lay there staring at the ceiling for hours without you knowing, other times his screams would echo in your room and wake you. Tears streaming down his face, clinging to you like his lifeline. Horrible dreams filled his mind of being pulled back there - or seeing his friends taken instead.

Those moments were the only time that it seemed Wally was willing to open up to you. It was the only time that he treated you like a lover rather than a stranger. Only when he was most vulnerable did it feel like he was truly back home, safe and sound with you. Whatever was holding him back from being open to you, it broke your heart.

Wally was always the one that you could go to when you had your issues and now that you couldn't do the same for him... it was hard to accept. You didn't want to push him into relieving his memories where he was stuck or asking the wrong questions to get him upset. Saying nothing at all didn't seem to be working either.

Dick noticed it, Barry, Artemis, even Garfield was worried. No one knew what was going on inside that head of his and he refused to go to Dinah - or anyone - for help. Everyone was worried.

You told them of the times that you woke up to him vibrating the entire bed, still asleep and a pained look on his face. Or the time that he would be perfectly fine before suddenly speeding around the house like he had no control over his body. Wally had become unstable with his speed - and maybe his health too.

"Love you, baby," Wally mumbled out.

He had gotten back from his hangout with Dick to find you sprawled out on the couch. Whatever they had done must have put him in a good mood. The moment that he saw you, he sped over and practically dived into you. His arms kept him hovering over you so he could lean down and kiss you properly - something that he always seemed to avoid since being back.

He found himself cuddled into your chest, arms snaked around you. For the first time since his return, you saw a genuine smile on his face. It was a sleepy, half-smile, but nonetheless, you were excited to see it. His eyes drooped closed the second you started massaging his scalp. He hummed with content as you eased the tension that had been piling up.

Half asleep, shoulders loose after weeks of being tensed at every moment. His heavy breathing was audible and you could feel the warmth of it against your skin. It had been years since you had seen him relaxed like this and it quickly brought tears to your eyes. Wally had been through so much, he deserved happiness, he deserved to have peace in his life.

"I love you Wally, always," you whispered. Silent tears spilled down your eyes - you wanted him to find his joy again, no matter the cost. "I never gave up on you, my love. I knew you'd find your way back home. Fuck-" your voice cracked, "I was so lost without you. Having you back in my arms like this was the only thing keeping me going.

"You mean everything to me, Wally. I know that you did what you did to save the world but..." you sighed. It was impossible to say that you wished that he hadn't done it - or that someone else should have taken his place. "I'm so relieved that you're safe now. I know you've been going through a hard time, and I've been trying my best not to push you - but if you need anything you know I'm here."

You waited for him to say something - anything. Wally was struggling to open up to you but seeing him in a good mood like this may have been the best opportunity to get him to say what was on his mind. Unfortunately, his silence made you worried.

It wasn't until the sounds of a soft snore did you realize that he had fallen asleep on you. His body had become completely dead weight, arms no longer tense around you. The security he felt being with you had lulled him to deep sleep in a matter of minutes. Although you weren't in a comfortable position, seeing him at peace was well worth it.

"He's getting better."

It had been months since Wally had been home. The process of getting him back to his mental state before entering the Speed Force for years was going to take a long time - but he was well on his way. Being with friends, family - finally admitting that he needed to see someone to talk through all this - dramatically helped.

The original team decided to put together a little surprise birthday for Wally. He said he didn't want anything - but they had several year's worth of get-togethers to make up for. So, you and Dick plotted together to throw something, just with his closest friends. Nothing overwhelming.

Although he originally complained about the gesture, he quickly found himself appreciating the effort that had been put into that evening. The food, the people, he forgot how much these moments meant to him. Seeing the smiles on everyone's faces again, that was the best gift he could have asked for.

He stood on the other side of the room with Conner and Dick - all three of the men were laughing their heads off about something. Artemis stood by your side, watching the three of them just as you were. She handed over one of the drinks in her hand to you. Everyone in the room had been deep in conversation with someone - besides you. She noticed.

"He is," you agreed with her.

"Why're you by yourself?" She got straight to the point. Artemis didn't bother with the small talk or sugarcoating her question. She waited for your answer, watching as your gaze turned from Wally, to the now interesting cement beneath your feet. "(Y/N)."

"Everyone's helped Wally so much and I can't help but feel like... Like I haven't done enough. Wally was always the person that I could lean on and now that I'm the one that has to be strong for him, it just feels like there's more that I could have done to help him. I never had the same bond that you all had with him being on the team and risking your lives, I don't know what it's like enough to help him through this trauma.

"Wally deserves the world and a lot of the time I feel like I can't give it to him. I'm not a hero, I don't have powers, I'm just... normal. Maybe that's not enough for someone who can save the world before I even finish breakfast," Your fists tightened at your sides as the heavy realization that had been clouding your mind was revealed.

It was clear that you were the odd man out in the room. Everyone there had risked their lives to saved the world and what had you done? Wait anxiously at home for your friends to return? Grieve at the losses that you couldn't have changed? There was nothing that you could do in the hero-life besides sitting on the sidelines.

"You do a lot more than you make yourself believe, (Y/N)," Artemis placed her hand on your shoulder. She glanced over at your boyfriend, wondering how different it would have been if they ended up together instead. Wally would have been unhappy, he loved you from the beginning.

"Wally can't stop talking about the support you give him. He wouldn't be where he is today without you. Men are stubborn - especially speedster men - they won't always admit how much they need someone. He gets this look on his face when he's talking about you like you're the whole reason for his existence. Don't put yourself down for not being stuck in a hero life we are - your love for him is the only power he needs."

"Thank you, Artemis," you forced a smile at her. Although you didn't believe her words at the moment she was right. Your love for Wally was the most important thing that you could ever give him, and that was going to have to be enough for now. Every ounce of your love went to making him happy.

Before she could say anything else, a familiar breeze washed over you both. Wally was suddenly standing right in front of you - and as if Artemis wasn't even there, brought you in for a deep kiss. His lips molded to yours, hand pressed to the small of your back to keep you close.

"I love you, (Y/N)," Wally barely pulled his lips from you. Conner had heard everything that you were saying to Artemis, and although he felt as if it wasn't his place to tell, Wally needed to know. A need to be with you, to assure you that you had done more than enough to get him to where he was, filled him.

"Across every galaxy, every universe, the Speed Force, no matter where I will always find my way back to you. I'll love you through everything," Wally pecked you once more. "Thank you for never giving up on me, babe."

"I'll never give up on you, Wally West. Not even the Speed Force can keep us apart," you grinned.

"Get a room already," Artemis complained. You had forgotten that she was still standing with you. It wasn't just her - the entire room was staring at the both of you. Smiles on their face at how happy Wally was with you. His little move had caught the attention of everyone and he just adored it.

Wally laughed at her comment. He swooped you up in his arms and sent a wink your way. He was already gearing up to speed you both out of there before saying his last bit to Artemis - and everyone else in the room.

"Don't have to tell me twice."

#wally west #wally west imagine #wally west x reader #wally west fanfic #wally west one shot #kid flash #kid flash imagine #kid flash x reader #kid flash one shot #kid flash fanfic #young justice #young justice imagine #young justice one shot #young justice fanfic #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc #dc comics

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mooshys · 3 years

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the silver lining of bad first dates

summary: a date gone wrong. a walk in the rain. a simple conversation in a ramen shop. mundane slice of life and mutual pining with kuroo.

word count: 2.1k

author’s note and warnings: curse words galore. set in time-skip. pure word vomit. kuroo’s one of those characters that I’m so scared to even consider writing for because I feel as though I’ll never truly be able to “get” his character. whatever though, I tried.

This date fucking sucked.

Point-blank. No sugarcoating because the dude sitting on the opposite side of the dinner table was more interested in the JASDAQ than your name. Seriously, he couldn’t even be bothered to listen to you talk about your alma mater before he swooped in and started blanketing his insecurities with his recent Bitcoin investment.

Talk about lame.

Wine and hors d’oeuvres be damned, you were making an escape before he started mansplaining the economy. Even wagyu couldn’t save this candlelit disaster.

Making no attempt to be discreet, you whipped your phone out of your bag and typed up a quick text:

Mind picking me up? Shitty date.

Ping!

Seriously? Again? What’d this guy do this time?

Ping!

Send the address

Ping!

I swear, this is the last time I’m picking you up

You smiled at the screen, thumbs moving fast.

That’s what you said last week

A bubble with three dots appeared, disappeared, and reappeared.

Ping!

Five minutes.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Like every cliché bad first date, the weather made sure to mimic the mood. The rainfall was nothing less than dreadful, a downpour that left the streets empty as most people kept indoors to avoid getting soaked.

“You’re so lucky that I didn’t have to work overtime tonight,” Kuroo began, standing close to you in an attempt to shield you both from the shower with his janky umbrella. “Otherwise, you’d be walking in the rain or sitting there having your dinner ruined from hearing that guy talk about his gains in the market.”

You laughed at the truth of his words. There really was no one else who knew you like Kuroo.

“And you know I would’ve walked in the rain out of the two options. I can’t believe someone so dick-ish exists that I’d bail out on a free meal,” you said, raising your voice over the heavy pelting.

Without any warning, a trio of college kids rushed past you two, not paying attention to the other pedestrians walking the sidewalks as their only priority in mind was making it back home before catching a cold. They had their backpacks held up to cover their heads, but it wasn’t much help as their clothes were completely soaked.

“See that?” Kuroo jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “You would’ve been running like those kids all the way back to your apartment if I didn’t show up.”

You lightly elbowed him and rolled your eyes. Rain fell on your shoulder from the sudden movement, but Kuroo repositioned the umbrella to prevent you from getting wet. “As if,” you murmured, hugging your body in an attempt to keep warm. “Thanks for picking me up. Again.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re oh so welcome,” he waved off your words and then cackled when you narrowed your eyes at him. Sometimes he really knew how to push your buttons. “Anyway, are you trying to date a bunch of crappy guys on purpose? Because I feel like that’s what you’re trying to do.”

“It’s not like I ask to go through a bunch of crappy first dates!” you said, letting out a huff of hot air. The past month had been riddled with unsuccessful first dates. Statistically speaking, you were an outlier; the average person probably went through a handful of bad first dates in a single year: you went through that number in a mere month. Multiple standard deviations past, you were way out of the norm. “Maybe I’m just a magnet for awful guys who only have a thing for themselves.”

Kuroo scoffed. “Or maybe you just like to make my life a little bit harder.”

You smiled at his words.

“Maybe.”

Besides the realization that you were like a honeytrap to flies when it came to bad first dates, another constant came from the start of it all: Kuroo. You weren’t expecting much from the first SOS call; really, just someone to walk you back home when it was late and the taxi fares were jacked up. But you would never forget the first time he waited for you outside that overhyped bar with a bag of take-out, his tie loosened and hair messy because he had just left the office and rushed to the nearest place that sold yakisoba for a decent price.

Maybe you did make his life a little bit harder. It was selfish, but whenever you had a bad date, you actually started to anticipate your escape because that meant Kuroo would be there for you.

He was your silver lining for the past month.

Red brick walls came into view once you two rounded the corner into a more secluded alley, revealing a familiar site that made you hungry. A neon sign which turned brighter due to the haze of the rain drew you in like a moth to a flame. It flickered, but still kept its light. Another constant.

Underneath the awning of the restaurant, Kuroo retracted his umbrella and shook the excess water off of it. He shoved it in the small bin filled with umbrellas belonging to the other patrons and dragged the soles of his shoes on the mat before pulling the door open.

“Let’s just get some ramen,” he said, ushering you inside. You took the first steps and situated yourself at a lone table. He followed and a waitress quickly took your orders, soon rushing back to the kitchen to help with the line of tickets pinned to the wall.

“Ramen on a rainy day,” you said, giving a low whistle. “You know your stuff.”

“Duh, ramen tastes best when you’re freezing,” he replied, pulling on his necktie to loosen it. He grabbed two pairs of chopsticks along with a pair of spoons, placing a set in front of you. “And it tastes pretty good after bad dates too.”

“You’re talking to the queen of bad first dates.”

“Oh, I’ve had my fair share too, Your Highness.”

As if on cue, two bowls of ramen were brought over from the kitchen along with an extra soft boiled egg as soon as he finished his sentence. The soup had small ringlets floating at the top from the fat of the broth along with bright green scallions acting as a garnish to offer a vibrant and appetizing color. Wasting no time, you both gave thanks and started to dig in.

“You know,” he started, breaking his chopsticks apart and dipping them into the broth. He pulled up a nice amount of noodles, the steam rising up higher than before. “I really think you should quit dating guys who suck.”

Following Kuroo, you did the same and blew at your noodles. “You say it like it’s easy.”

“It is. It’s so easy.” He ate a mouthful and swallowed before speaking again. “You have your top tier guys, your average guys, and then your totally shitty guys. I mean absolute trash—these are the guys you’re dating. Avoid them and all your problems will be solved.”

“Ugh, I feel like we go through this conversation after every single mishap of a date.”

Translation: Kuroo, you sound like my nagging mother.

“Because you never learn.”

Translation: I will nag at you all I want.

You sighed. “Love’s a lot more complicated than you make it.”

“Whatever. Just find a guy who isn’t an asswipe, and then we can talk.”

As you two continued to eat, the kitchen staff remained lively. The sounds of ceramic bowls clattering together along with the static hum of an old radio buzzing some city pop tune your mom would have listened to in her youth acted as background noise while chatting.

“So... what kind of guy do you think you are?” you asked, curious to hear his answer. Kuroo was in the middle of slurping his noodles and held a hand up to signal you to give him a second.

“Me?” He pointed at himself and you nodded. Who else would you be asking? “I’m your average guy.”

You frowned. “No way.”

“What, you think I’m an absolute trash kind of guy? Harsh.”

“No, I think you’re definitely top tier. Average guys don’t go out of their way to do stuff like this.”

Kuroo raised a brow at you and set his chopsticks down. His bowl was half finished, but he was more interested in what you had to say. “Stuff like what?”

“You know,” you motioned the space between you two, “doing this awful-first-date-rescue-at-the-drop-of-a-hat kind of stuff. No questions asked. Average guys don’t do that. Average guys just pay for your meal and maybe give you their jacket when it’s kind of cold. And sometimes they call you some gross pet name like...” You shivered at the thought. “Kitten or something.”

He looked slightly taken aback. “You don’t like being called kitten?”

“No, something about it sounds gross.”

“That’s just because you haven’t found the right guy to say it to you when—“

Not wanting to hear the rest of what he had to say, you quickly crumpled up a napkin into a ball and tossed it at him. He threw his head back, putting on an act as if you actually did any damage to him.

“Stop. Please. Enough. Don’t even finish what you’re going to say.” You went back to devouring your bowl, the noodles more soft than before. Still tasted great as you shoveled in mouthfuls. “I don’t wanf tew heur et!”

Sporting a disgusted look, Kuroo grabbed a few napkins from the dispenser and slid them to your side of the table. “Jeez, you eat like that whenever you’re on a date? Maybe I saved that guy from you.”

“Well, you’re the one stuck with all of this now,” you motioned a hand to your entirety and wiggled an eyebrow. “Consider yourself lucky.”

He held his chin in the palm of his hand and stared at you from across the table, eyes still holding a glint of amusement under the low lighting of the restaurant. His bowl was nearly finished, yet he focused his attention on you, allowing a small smile to grace his lips as he pondered your words.

You eyed him, his gaze feeling a bit different from before. “What are you doing?”

“Considering,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“...It shouldn’t take you that long to,” you mumbled and ate another mouthful of noodles. He kept at it and soon started to crack up. When you narrowed your eyes at him, he shook his head and pushed another pile of napkins your way.

“There’s a scallion at the corner of your lips,” he tapped a hand on his bottom lip and cackled when you rushed to grab a napkin and wipe it away. Heat rose to your face and you sucked on your teeth.

“You know what? Forget about me calling you a top tier guy. It never happened.”

He placed a hand over his heart, wounded by your words. “It was kitten, wasn’t it?”

Unable to contain yourself, you laughed into your hand, shoulders shaking. You had to set your chopsticks down as you fanned your face, trying to get rid of the tears threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes. “If I ever heard that from another guy, I would walk out. The second the word came out of his mouth, I would pack up my things, leave, and never look back.”

“But you’re not right now.”

“I’m not.”

“Because I’m a top tier guy. Admit it.”

Because it’s you.

You shook your head and waved the white flag. “Right, that’s exactly it.”

Kuroo crossed his arms in front of his chest, satisfied with your answer. Like he won something from this conversation. He liked the way your lips tugged into a smile, not too tight, but enough to showcase the apples of your cheeks; he liked these nights when he could unwind after a long day of work and laugh about stupid pet names; he loved how easy it all was.

Consideration done and over with, he went back to finish his bowl, the steam from the broth no longer visible to the naked eye.

“Eat up or it’ll get cold,” he said and sipped on the broth. It was still warm, much to his surprise. “I’ll walk you back home when we’re done.”

You took small bites, prolonging the meal in any way possible: listening to him talk about his lazy cubicle partner, ordering another side of gyoza, folding a napkin to tell him his fortune through grade school methods. Both your bowls were empty, pushed to the side with a sliver of broth left as the focus was neither the food nor the JASDAQ jerk from hours before, but rather mundane conversation that went in circles until the shop emptied out.

A hundred dates could go wrong only for Kuroo to show up and make things right.

Maybe it was time for him to become more than a silver lining.

#I had this in my drafts for 4 months and really could not bring myself to post it #like I absolutely despised it and would reread and edit it over and over again #and I kept this only because of the dialogue line with the top tier guys #Yeah Idk dude it's fine now but begone out of my drafts #kuroo #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #Ok I also feel like a reason why I *didn't* post this is cuz it's like... rlly different from what I usually post???#like this was so out of my comfort zone and I honestly feel a bit embarrassed sometimes when I write about ~love~ bc it's like. Ew Gross LOL #constant fear of it being too cheesy and unrealistic lmao

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justcourttee · 4 years

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Can you do one where all the Wayne’s meet marinette before knowing she’s dating Damian and something happened to her parents and Bruce already has the adoption papers and damiens like no father u can’t adopt my gf

This is so cute and was so much fun to write. Hope this is something like what you had in mind :) @leagrey

Family Dinner

“I would like to apologize in advance. Father and his feral mistakes are very lively people and I fear they will take too much of a liking to you. If it is at all uncomforting, just squeeze my hand and we will leave.”

Marinette glanced over as Damian stared menacingly at the oak doors in front of them. It had only been a year since she had met him, but he had never once mentioned the idea of her meeting his family. Maybe it was because he knew today was special and he knew that meeting them was her only request of him for the longest time.

“Do you feel uncomfortable Damian? If so, please don’t put yourself in this position because of me.”

“Tt, utter nonsense. Me? Uneasy? Now you are just babbling.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth at the sight of the red threatening to overtake his cheeks.

“Well then, I guess there is no point in standing outside all day huh?”

Before her fist even made contact with the door, it flung open. Several curious faces piled in the doorframe, all trying to get a good look at her in case Damian changed his mind in an instant.

“You idiots, back up now or I’m leaving with her.”

A mutter of apologies echoed through the door as Marinette bit back the chuckle. With a great sigh, Damian motioned for her to step through the entrance, his tense body signaling that he was already ready to throw in the towel.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you all, my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Her half-wave seemed to send a shock wave through the room as all eyes narrowed in on her, watching her every movement. Cautiously, she lowered her hand. A moment of silence passed and then two. Everyone seemed locked onto her, unsure of what to say and if she was being honest, she had the slightest idea as well.

“Are you all crowding her? Shameful. I thought I told you to wait in the dining room.”

It was as if the heavens had parted and uttered a command. Several bodies darted in different directions and in seconds, the hallway had been cleared save for Marinette, Damian, and an older man with graying hair and a killer smile on his face.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, we are truly honored that Master Damian has allowed you to grace us with your presence for dinner this evening. I apologize for Master Bruce’s charges. They really are all excellent kids, but rare elements such as yourself tend to erase their minds of any manners I worked so hard to instill in them.”

He shook his head in mock disappointment as he offered her his hand.

“Oh please, don’t worry about it, Mr. Alfred. I’m sure they were just as excited as I was.”

Taking his hand, she did her best to give a strong shake. His warm smile seemed so inviting, but the thought that he could clear a room with just a sentence shook her to her core.

“Please, just Alfred is fine. May I escort you to the dining room?”

Marinette nodded as she blindly reached backward for Damian’s hand to drag him along. If the butler had noticed, he made no comment as he led them.

“And here we are, I will return shortly with the first course for tonight. I do hope you enjoy the meal. I have prepared special platers for you and Master Damian to commandeer for your dietary restrictions.”

Before she even had the chance to thank him, he whisked away, leaving her to stand by Damian’s side in front of the largest dining room table she had ever seen.

“Welcome.”

Her eyes darted to the head of the table where a dashing man stood, his eyes kind and welcoming as he motioned to the two empty seats beside him. It all felt so overwhelming, too many sets of eyes for her to count were plastered on her alone. Shuffling along, she managed a small curtsey to the man before allowing Damian to help her into her seat.

A small murmur erupted from the dining room table. Had she done something wrong? Perhaps she had set herself up at the table, but Damian just got so flustered about those sorts of things, insisting he wanted to be a proper gentleman.

“I’ve heard very little about you Ms. Dupain-Cheng, but the little I have been able to wrestle out of my son has been nothing short of blessings.”

Marinette was sure her face was burning as she muttered a small thanks.

“I apologize for the huge turnout. When I mentioned to my oldest that Damian was bringing a friend home for dinner, it seems word spread fast. They all wanted to meet the person who managed to break through to him that wasn’t Jon.”

His smile appeared jokingly as he glanced over the near full table.

“But please, where are my manners? My name is Bruce and please feel comfortable to refer to me like that. The three boys across from you are my oldest Dick, Jason, Tim, and Duke.”

Dick's smile was blinding as he reached over the table to shake her hand vigorously.

“I’m so glad my little boy has made a friend and such a beautiful and well-mannered one as well!”

“Yeah, I wonder how he did that?” Jason, at least that’s what she believed his name was, stroked his chin thoughtfully as he stared down the two. Duke began to stroke his chin as well before he leaned across the table, shielding his mouth from where Damian sat.

“Hey, Marinette, blink twice if he’s threatening you or your family’s lives in any way.”

There was a small thud from under the table as Duke flinched slightly in his seat.

Bruce shook his head as he motioned past the boys and to the girls that sat on the other side of Damian.

“On this side of the table are my daughters in all but paperwork. Barbara, Cassandra, and Stephanie.”

“Uhm, you forgot one pop.”

The girl at the end of the table kicked her feet up onto the table, her mischievous smile poking at Bruce’s patience.

“How could I ever forget you, Harper? I was just saving you for last.”

Harper sent a wink in Marinette’s direction earning a giggle from the girl.

“Miss Harper, I must ask you to refrain from placing your feet on the table as I serve out the first course.”

Instantly she straightened in her seat as Alfred seemingly materialized from behind. The smile on his face as dangerous as ever. Marinette could finally see what Damian was worried about, his family was absolutely wild. Her eyes drifted from each person as they absentmindedly chatted in small groups.

Damian’s hand found hers under the table, giving her a slight reassuring squeeze.

“Marinette, I must apologize for dinner being so late. I had to work over today and even if I got out earlier than usual, I must admit it is not early enough. Please apologize to your parents for my inconsiderate job.”

Marinette swallowed hard as she sat down her fork.

“Oh, uhm, I suppose Damian didn’t tell you. I-uh-live on my own in the city.”

All of the chatter in the room fell silent and once more, she could feel the heat of every stare in the room on her.

“Oh? Are they okay with that? Gotham isn’t exactly known to be the safest at night.” His chuckle was humorless as he watched her bright eyes dull.

“I actually came to Gotham on my own merits, a fresh start if you will. My parents died last year in a bakery fire. Papa tried to find me, thinking I was home, but even as Maman begged him to leave the building, he couldn’t leave believing I was still in there.”

She felt a single hot tear trail down her cheek, but she was quick to wipe it away before any more could follow.

“I apologize, I had no idea.”

Marinette shook her head vigorously as the apologies spewed out of her mouth.

“Please, forget I said anything at all. I one hundred percent overshared. Now dinner will be so awkwardly, please, it’s been a year, I’m okay.”

The conversation started back slowly, but once it did, Marinette couldn’t stop laughing. She shared with them her business and talked about how she and Damian first met. Tim couldn’t wrap his head around the thought that Damian would have actually stopped on the street to comfort her.

“I mean, what are you? A demon tamer? Teach me your ways sensei.”

As Alfred collected the final plates for the evening, Marinette felt better than she had in a long time. When it came time to leave, Bruce offered to escort them back to the front.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, may I ask how old you are?”

“16.”

Bruce’s stare was concerning as he reached out to pick up her hand.

“How do you live in an apartment then?”

“Oh, My grandmother signed the lease. She technically lives with me, but she’s such a free spirit, I couldn’t possibly expect her to stay in one spot. I mostly live there on my own. Honestly, I’m quite jealous of the large family Damian has, he is very lucky.”

Marinette thought she had to be hallucinating. Bruce Wayne almost seemed to be vibrating the more she talked.

“You know Marinette, this manor is quite spacious. If you ever need-”

“Absolutely not.”

In one quick movement, Damian was between them, his glare ready to cut through his own father.

“But Damian-”

“Father I cannot allow you to adopt my girlfriend!”

Bruce’s jaw dropped as he finally noticed the constant contact that the two had initiated all night. At first, he thought it could be just her way of keeping herself grounded, but the more he thought back on it, it did seem quite like how a couple would act.

“Dammit, now I owe Steph $20.”

Marinette peeked behind Bruce where all of Damian’s siblings stood exchanging money, Tim looking especially upset as he handed the blonde a crisp bill. For what felt like the billionth time tonight, Marinette felt her face flush.

“You are all utter buffoons. Father, we will complete this conversation later. As for now, I will escort Marinette back to her apartment and I will be taking the car.”

Damian’s hand intertwined with hers as she allowed herself to be dragged from the manor. A chorus of goodbyes echoed after her, even Alfred waved her goodbye as he graciously shut Bruce’s mouth for him. As she climbed into the car, Marinette leaned over to place a small kiss on Damian’s cheek.

“What was that for?” The stutter in his voice was something she adored, something that only ever appeared when she caught him off guard.

“Thank you for letting me meet your family today. It turned a bad day into a good one.”

“Yeah, whatever,” the red of his cheeks betrayed his indifferent attitude as he shifted the car into drive.

As the manor disappeared in the rearview mirror, only one thought remained on her mind. Just how would the conversation go with Bruce when Damian returned?

The thought alone made her smile.

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#maribat #marinette x damian #daminette

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freebooter4ever · 3 years

Text

Living in close quarters for months on end with a bunch of men his own age doesn't bother Snafu a bit. It's the one part of the Marines Corps he actually enjoys. Like living on an island full of eye candy. Snafu became mostly numb to the sheer number of naked butts by the end of his second day on Pavuvu. With the heat and the sun, the men need very little provocation to strip their clothing off. It was distracting for about an hour and then it became commonplace.

Later, after Gloucester, after living for three straight weeks in rain and misery, under the constant threat of violent death, and then returning once more to Pavuvu, Snafu becomes numb to everything....

He's never been one for carousing - a trait his peers in high school picked up on pretty quick. He's been compensating ever since. Packing on the innuendo and flirtation, and studying how other men act towards women and amplifying it in his own behavior.

So even before the numbness set in, Snafu isn't sure he ever actually felt anything like what others seem to describe. Even though Snafu admires his daily fill of half dressed fellow Marines wandering around camp, he does it in a detached sort of way that makes him feel more like an observer than participant. And it's good, because while there are whispers and rumors about certain guys who will take a man into the woods and show him a good time, Snafu doesn't need to get involved. He gets himself into enough trouble without adding a court martial onto it.

A few days after Gloucester an envelope arrives. There's no letter, simply a newspaper clipping slipped inside and stamped. The clipping is from his hometown newspaper and the article is about their hometown hero - brave Merriell Shelton - who shot up the enemy with his 'mortar gun'.

It's truly amazing how in a small town such as his, one can go from being the delinquent orphan son of impoverished half crazed parents easily forgotten by polite society, to being a hometown hero in the span of one battle.

Everyone in K company teases him about the article, especially about the 'mortar gun' bit. Snafu enjoys it immensely. He takes pride in his notoriety. It adds to his carefully cultivated mystique. No one wants to fuck with the fast talking, mean Merriell Shelton, war hero.

In actuality, Snafu is no hero. He fights for one reason, and that's the fifty dollars a month being sent home to his kid sister. He doesn't want her saddled with being a burden to her adopted family. Not like Snafu was with their own parents.

Overall, aside from the numbness, everything about Snafu's time in the Marine Corps is going well. He has respect, he has the looming potential of death and relief, and he has a steady diet of filling if questionable food. He thinks he's got a handle on things.

Till his downfall arrives a few days after the envelope.

Eugene Sledge looks like a fool from the minute he steps into Snafu's tent. Something about him irritates the hell out of Snafu. To try and figure out what about Sledge bothers him so much, Snafu goes out of his way to run into the guy. But no dice. Nothing works.

It doesn't click until Snafu accidentally runs into Sledge in the showers. Normally Snafu showers on off times to avoid any accidents. But after one particularly disgusting round of coconut duty, Snafu is stuck washing the gritty stickiness off in the middle of the day.

At first there's just him and Pops in the showers. A typical sight - Gunney Haney is obsessively clean. Snafu ignores him, and ignores the new Boots who join them halfway through. Snafu requires single minded focus to fish out all the coconut pieces that mysteriously found their way into his hair.

Once finished, Snafu turns around and bends his head back under the stream of water to rinse. He opens his eyes after the worst of the suds are gone, and spots Eugene Sledge in the group of new recruits. They are huddled around the shower heads in the opposite corner as far away from Snafu and Pops as they can get. Snafu smirks at them as a greeting.

It's kinda fun being intimidating.

Except they aren't paying attention to him. Sledge's eyes are transfixed on Haney as the man scrubs his dick.

Admittedly, for the uninitiated, seeing Haney shower is quite a sight. The man uses a bristly GI brush. The working theory is that he's been doing it so long and he's so old that his skin is pickled enough to be as thick and tough as leather. Everyone stares and winces in pain when they first witness Haney washing his junk.

However, Sledge is unusually engrossed. Snafu feels a strange prickle at the back of his neck and a spike of annoyance over this.

Jealousy - a word Snafu's never related to before.

Once he recognizes the feeling, though, he starts seeing it everywhere. Sledge is genuinely kind, and cares about everyone in a way that would stretch Snafu thin enough to break. Sledge is the best sharpshooter in the company, beating Snafu's considerable score by almost an entire point. Sledge takes every work duty thrown at him without complaint and with stubborn pride. Sledge takes everything thrown at him without complaint, including Snafu's own malice.

And all Snafu wants is for Sledge to just fucking look at him.

The tipping point comes after Sledge's little buddy Philips rotates home without warning. The despondency Sledge sinks into for a few days makes Snafu ache with frustration. Sledge starts disappearing whenever the replacements get an hour or two off. Snafu makes it his mission to find him.

He eventually does. Turns out Sledge is running off to a secluded beach, but he never goes in the water. Instead he sits crosslegged in the sand and stares at crabs. Snafu shimmies up a palm tree and scoots across the rough bark until he's nearly hanging over the oblivious Sledge.

In Sledge's lap is a dog-eared notebook, probably a moonlight requisition from the officer's tents. Sledge hunches over the page, his hand scribbling furiously and Snafu cranes his neck till he can see what Sledge is working on.

It's drawings of crabs. Countless pages of them. Snafu straddles the uncomfortable palm tree for almost an hour, watching in disbelief as Sledge makes study after study of crab anatomy.

Instead of killing the damn invasive creatures with a shovel and burying them in the sand, Sledge draws them.

If Snafu could draw, maybe he'd finally be free of this strange fascination that's taken hold of him. The image of Sledge that one afternoon - showering, naked and lean and glowing in the midafternoon sun - burned itself in Snafu's brain. He doesn't know how to purge himself of it. At the time, he didn't even realize he'd been looking that closely at Sledge while they were in the showers, but afterwards his brain pieced the scraps of memory together and gave him a picture more vivid than what he thought he saw.

And now he sees it whenever he looks at Sledge.

Even on Peleliu, after everything's gone to shit, but somehow they got off the beach and somehow they're not dead yet, his mind drifts to Sledge. The boy strips off his shoes in the midst of battle. Snafu stops him, shoving Sledge's boots back into his chest with force.

It's the first time he lays hands on Sledge and he doesn't even register it because he's too busy being worried about the damn idiot being caught with his pants down and shoes off.

Sledge is a distraction. That's all he is.

Until Sledge fucking picks Snafu up off the ground even when Snafu is pretty sure he's already dead. Sledge drags Snafu out of his shock and out of danger, and proves he can keep his cool during battle. Cooler even than Snafu, who still runs hot whenever Sledge gets too close.

Naive little Sledgehammer grew up quick, but unlike Snafu, he did not grow up mean - he still saves worthless things fallen helpless in the sand and dirt. From that minute on, Snafu makes it his personal mission to preserve Eugene's goodness.

He doesn't anticipate Sledgehammer accepting Snafu's newfound loyalty so readily.

Burgie calls Snafu out on it teasingly during their ship ride back to dreaded Pavuvu. A painful bout of seasickness causes Snafu to lose track of Sledgehammer for a few hours aboard ship, and Snafu spends the time wandering the decks in search of him.

"Since when did you appoint yourself as his shadow, Snaf?" Burgie retorts when Snafu asks if he's seen the 'Hammer'.

"Just need to collect on my bet about him smoking by the end of his first battle," Snafu shrugs.

"Every nonsmoker smokes by the end of their first battle, Snafu. You already knew that," Burgie says, "Leave him be."

"No way," Snafu argues, "Someone needs to teach that rich boy that he don't know everything."

"And of course you'd be the one to do it," Burgie sighs.

Ironically, Sledge is the one to find Snafu in a random ship compartment instead of the other way around. Snafu is lying prone, trying to keep his half digested meal from rolling around.

"Here," Sledge says, shoving a small box at Snafu as hard as Snafu shoved Eugene's boots.

"What is it?" Snafu asks, feigning disinterest.

"Crackers. They'll help with the stomach," Sledge replies, "C'mon, let's get you topside."

"How the hell'd you get crackers on a ship short of rations?" Snafu asks. He obediently follows Eugene through the ship to the deck. Like a damn shadow.

"I sweet talked one of the swabbies," Sledge explains casually.

That news roils Snafu's gut. Jealousy again. It's lucky they made it to the deck. He staggers to the rail and pukes overboard.

"The swabby liked my accent," Eugene says and leans beside Snafu, "Think he was from northern Alabama. I told him how us southern boys have the best aim in the Marines."

Snafu finishes vomiting up the last of his afternoon chow.

Sledge sighs and places his hand on Snafu's upper back.

Snafu's glad no one else is around on this part of the deck to see his shame. He hangs on the rail and feels miserable.

"Get it all out?" Sledge asks, and passes Snafu his canteen.

Snafu takes a sip, swishes it around his mouth, and spits into the sea. And then guzzles as much water as he thinks he can keep down. He sticks his tongue out at the disgusting aftertaste and hands the canteen back.

Sledge runs his hand down from Snafu's back to his arm. Before Snafu knows what's happening Eugene is gently taking Snafu's hand and leading him away from the rail. Sledge sits on the deck and leans against the ship's wall. He tugs on Snafu's hand for him to sit next to him.

"Better to go down to one of the cabins," Snafu resists.

"You don't want to know how bad it smells down there," Sledge warns, "Trust me. Fresh air is best."

Snafu gives in and collapses next to Eugene. He tilts his head back against the cold metal and closes his eyes.

Sledge takes the box of saltines from Snafu's hands and Snafu hears rustling as Sledge opens the package. Sledge then nudges Snafu's elbow with the box.

"Eat," Sledge says.

Snafu groans and leans his head on Sledgehammer's shoulder instead. He doesn't want any ill-gotten flirtation crackers. It's a lot easier to close his eyes and pretend to sleep.

Sledge seems to not mind Snafu sleeping on him. He doesn't move away, at least. So Snafu uses it as an excuse to shuffle closer. Which is when he realizes Eugene never let go of his hand. He's still holding on. Tight.

"Snafu?" Sledge prompts. He uses Snafu's nickname like they're best buds, though they've hardly ever spoken.

Snafu grunts.

"On that airfield…" Sledge says, "Don't you ever dare do that again, allright?"

"Whatever you say, Sledgehammer," Snafu drawls, "Don't even know what I did."

"You just...lay there," Sledge says quietly, "Like you were...."

"Waiting?" Snafu tries to remember his own state of mind in that moment.

"Gone," Sledge says sharply.

"Same damn thing," Snafu gives up on sleeping and lights a cigarette.

"If you're not around who'll tell me what I'm doing wrong?" Sledge asks.

"Shit, Sledge," Snafu drawls with a grin, "practically anybody who's not you could do that."

Sledge actually chuckles. That's the thing about Eugene. He's not stuck up or prissy like Snafu'd expect him to be. He's humble, and willing to laugh at his own inexpertise.

"I'd rather it be you," Eugene adds quietly with a small smile.

Snafu sucks on his bottom lip and refuses to respond to that.

"So no dying," Eugene finishes, as if such a conclusion were a choice.

Snafu does fall asleep and when he wakes up a few hours later, Sledge's head is tipped on top of Snafu's. Sledge's long nose is in Snafu's hair and he's snoring loud enough to wake the enemy a thousand miles away. Snafu can feel Eugene's snores blowing his hair around.

Despite these annoyances, Snafu tries to freeze in place and jostle Eugene as little as possible.

Their hands are still linked together. Sledge's hand is wrapped tight around Snafu's. Snafu lifts Sledge's hand to examine his delicate fingers - long and gentle, but not dainty. Eugene has the calluses of an expert marksman, and painfully short fingernails. Snafu picks at the boy's ring curiously.

Sledge shifts and turns farther in towards Snafu's body. He draws his arm away from Snafu's fiddling and instead places his hand on Snafu's soft belly. "Stop moving," he mumbles.

"You stop snoring," Snafu complains. He bumps his head intentionally into Sledge's big nose to make his point.

Sledge ignores him and slumps more of his weight onto Snafu's shoulder.

Snafu accepts his fate and reaches over Sledge's body to steal the saltines. He opens the cracker package and starts snacking.

"Must you, with the crunching?" Sledge snarls after a few minutes.

"Got hungry, Sledgehammer," Snafu, "If you're gonna be using me as a pillow, I'm gonna need to generate extra padding."

Sledge sighs and holds his hand out, "Give me one."

Snafu complies, "If you get crumbs in my hair, I'll kill ya."

"Wouldn't be the worst thing in your hair right now, Snafu," Sledge gripes.

"Yeah? What else is up there? Pick it out for me," Snafu grins.

"Smells like you took a nap in seawater," Sledge says, "Or smoke."

"Get your long nose out of my hair then," Snafu quips.

"Once you get past the brine smell it's not so bad," Sledge mutters and doesn't move

"Yeah, well your shoulder smells like…" Snafu starts, and then cuts off when he realizes Eugene's shoulder doesn't smell like anything Snafu finds unpleasant. "Did you change your shirt?"

"Traded it for the saltines," Sledge explains, "The swabby wanted a souvenir that saw battle. I gave it to him. Stole this one off a supply crate."

"Fuck, Eugene, I thought you flirted your way into the galley," Snafu grumbles.

"Who says taking off my shirt wasn't a part of that?"

Snafu can't see it with his head on Sledge's shoulder but he swears Gene is smirking at him. "Should have just given him your pin," Snafu argues.

"Can't," Eugene replies, "Sid says they're good luck."

Snafu rolls his eyes at the mention of stupid Sid and settles back comfortably to sleep.

Eugene hooks a thumb in between Snafu's button holes in his shirt to keep his hand on Snafu's stomach. His fingertips barely brush Snafu's bare skin, and suddenly Snafu is no longer interested in sleeping.

And then Eugene's wandering fingers hit Snafu's shrapnel wound.

His response is immediate and a little shocking, "What the fuck, Snafu?" Without asking Eugene starts popping open all of Snafu's shirt buttons.

"What the hell, Sledge?" Snafu tries to back away from him.

"My father's a physician, let me look at you," Eugene orders. He manhandles Snafu's hips forward away from the wall to stretch him out on the deck. Snafu's thin wound runs from right beside his belly button to right over his hip. "Jesus, Snaf, that could turn infected."

Snafu is still trying to process the feel of Eugene's long hands gripping his hips, there is no room in his brain for worrying about infections right now.

"You're gonna need to lie down," Eugene tells him, "Here…" Sledge takes off his shirt and folds it up so Snafu doesn't have to rest his head on the floor.

"Thanks," Snafu says blankly.

"I thought it didn't hit you, you idiot?" Eugene asks.

"Naw, it hit me," Snafu smiles, "just didn't kill me."

"Wait here, I need a kit," Sledge gets up and walks off, leaving Snafu on his own.

Snaf uncomfortably folds his open shirt closed and crosses his arms over his chest self-consciously. He hopes no one will accidentally walk past this part of the ship while Snafu is stuck laying here like a patient. It takes far too long for Sledge to return.

When Eugene does finally return, he's holding a big medic kit that definitely is going to be missed somewhere.

"What'd you have to take off to get that?" Snafu asks, his voice mean, "Your pants?"

"I'll return it when I'm done," Sledge tells him in a no nonsense tone. He sets the kit down and flips it open. "I'll need to open the waist of your pants though, do you mind?"

Snafu looks to the sky to avoid Sledge's concerned gaze. "Don't care," Snafu says as nonchalantly as he is able. He wets his lips and squeezes his eyes shut.

Sledge gently uncrosses Snafu's arms and moves them to the side. When Sledge unbuttons Snafu's pants, Snafu takes a deep breath. His stomach constricts, and he knows his bones are poking out embarrassingly far. Sledge's hands are warm and surprisingly soft. Cleaning everything, and putting a tiny amount of stitches near Snafu's waistband area doesn't take Sledge long at all. Before Snafu even gets to fully enjoy the feeling of Eugene's fingers sliding over his most sensitive area, Eugene is already buttoning Snafu's pants back up and smoothing his shirt down. Snafu flicks the shirt back off, deciding if he's already indecent he might as well continue that way.

Snafu moves to sit up, but Sledge puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Stay down for a bit," Sledge says, "I want my shirt back though. Here." He scoots next to the wall at Snafu's head and then helps Snafu lean forward enough that Sledge can reclaim his stolen shirt. Sledge throws the shirt on and then scoots closer again, beckoning Snafu to lay back down.

Having his head in Sledge's lap is about a thousand times more distracting than Eugene touching his skin. There was a medical excuse for that. There's no goddamn excuse for this.

As if reading Snafu's mind, Sledge decides to up the ante and he runs his hand along the clean skin beside Snafu's wound. Sledge's hand continues up to Snafu's chest and then stops. Sledge picks at a brown spot of dried mud below Snafu's sternum till it pops off and he can flick it away onto the deck. He then massages away the sting and leaves his hand resting there.

Snafu daringly rests his own hand on top of Sledge's. He doesn't breathe even once till they're both settled and Eugene doesn't pull away.

"You need a shower, Snafu," Sledge comments.

"You gonna give me one?" Snafu lolls his head so he can see Sledge's face.

"Only way to do that now would be to toss you off the ship," Sledge says seriously.

"That a no?" Snafu guesses.

Sledge glances down at Snafu with his signature 'I know better than you, but I am also amused' expression, and then stares blankly out towards the sea. He sighs, "Sleep off the seasickness. I promise I won't snore."

Snafu silently watches Eugene's profile for a while before he finally closes his eyes.

Sledge keeps his promise. He doesn't fall asleep once during the entire time Snafu is out. Sledge does, however, eventually remove his hand from atop Snafu's chest and that wakes Snafu up instantly.

Snafu stays perfectly still, and tries to breathe as even as possible. He doesn't want Sledge to notice he's awake and kick Snafu out of his lap.

Snafu carefully peeks one eye open, and sees two hands hovering above his head holding a book and pencil.

"Writing again?" Snafu accuses.

"Hmmm," Sledge says.

"What about?" Snafu asks.

"You," Sledge responds.

Snafu smiles. He knows Sledge is just being obtuse and not actually writing about him, but still, "Tell me."

"No," Sledge refuses.

Snafu eyes Sledge's hands and attempts to determine how much force it would take for him to grab the book away.

"If you take this bible from me, I'll never let you sleep on me again," Sledge warns.

"What makes you think that's a threat?" Snafu teases. He sits up and tries to lean over to read Sledge's writing.

"Because you slept like a baby during your nap," Sledge says. He angles the book away from Snafu's prying eyes.

"Plenty of other guys in the company more comfortable than you to sleep on, Sledgehammer," Snafu says.

Sledge looks Snafu straight in the eye and dares him, "Then why don't you go find them?"

Snafu holds his gaze for a few breaths. And then wordlessly puts his head back in Eugene's lap.

Sledge calmly sets down his pencil and book, and threads his hand into Snafu's hair instead. "You know what I miss?" Sledge idly scratches Snafu's head as he talks, "Having an inexhaustible supply of blank paper."

"I still don't understand how you've managed to hold onto that one pencil nub for so long," Snafu comments. If talking means Sledge will massage his head, Snafu will do anything to carry this conversation.

"Writing in my bible is well and good, but nothing compares to a fresh blank sheet," Sledge states, "I can't believe that in school I used to tear pages up, or throw them away if I made even one typewriter mistake."

"We should find you a new pencil," Snafu continues his own train of thought, "Or maybe a couple."

"What a waste," Sledge sighs over his stupid crumpled typewriter pages.

"I bet the officers' tent in camp has pencils," Snafu muses.

"You need to borrow a pencil?" Sledge asks, "Sorry, I wasn't listening for a minute. Here, take mine." He hands Snafu the tiny nubby remains.

"Thanks, Sledgehammer," Snafu says and sticks the pencil behind his ear to remind himself later.

The first thing Snafu does on Pavuvu is go scrounging for paper. The constant stream of people coming in and out of the officer's tents makes it particularly easy to search. Snafu gets five pencils on only one run. He doesn't dare take the brand new stacks of paper. It would be too obviously missed. Instead he hunts through trash bins around the camp, and pulls out anything that looks clean and innocuous.

Snafu figures any important classified documents are being shredded or burned immediately anyway. No chance of him accidentally picking up something he shouldn't.

It takes a few days, but finally Snafu hits the jackpot. An entire stack of half used blank sheet notebooks. They're spiral bound, and the edges are dirty, and the covers don't look particularly pretty. But the pages inside are clean. Snafu takes his stack behind the mess tent and scrubs off some of the dirt stains.

A few of the notebooks are too gross to be salvageable. For these he carefully cleans his knife, and cuts out the crisp pages individually.

When he's finished he leaves his collection on Sledge's cot with the pencils resting on top of everything. Satisfied, Snafu takes a step back and surveys his work. Then realizes he can't let it look like he is doing Gene any favors. He sticks his hands out and musses the papers completely so the stacks are no longer neat and the pages aren't ordered by type. But he leaves the pencils on top. He doesn't want them to get lost or sat on.

At first Sledge doesn't say anything about Snafu's gift. The next time Snafu stops by the empty tent, the paper and notebooks are neatly stacked on a high shelf to keep it out of the way of crabs and vermin. It warms Snafu to see how organized the messy pile he left became. Even the pencils are safe and snug wrapped in a little handmade pouch.

Snafu takes the warm feeling with him to chow that evening.

"Did you wake up on the right side of the bed for once, Snaf?" Burgie asks.

Snafu brushes his comments off with a smile and sarcastic look.

Sledge looks up the minute he realizes Snafu is sitting down. "Hey," he says eloquently.

"Hey," Snafu says back. He sets his tray down and pulls out his cigarettes.

"I swear you smoke more than you eat," Sledge observes. He eyes Snafu's still mostly full and cooling plate of food.

"I only put things in my mouth if it's worth the bother," Snafu tells him, smirking.

"Are you saying warm mush isn't worth it?" Bill jokes as he polishes off his own bowl heartily.

Snafu laughs at Bill's graceless eating, till he realizes Eugene is staring. Not at Bill, but at Snafu. And looking very mournful for some reason. Unable to stand seeing Eugene looking that way, Snafu anxiously extends his hand to touch Sledge's knuckles, and then offers him a smoke.

"No thanks, Snafu," Sledge says, very unfriendly and possibly looking to start a fight, "I prefer to eat my meals."

"Has anyone gotten any letters from home yet?" Burgie changes the subject brightly.

Bill shakes his head.

"Nothing but my mother's usual package," Sledge says. He notices Snafu staring at him with quiet interest and adds with a sigh, "Yes, Snafu, I saved you your favorite jar."

Snafu smiles, "See, always worth it to wait." He grabs his unused spoon off the table and slips it into his pants for later.

"Sid still hasn't written to tell me if he made it home okay," Sledge says with a worried frown.

"I'm sure he did," Burgie says kindly.

"What about you, Burg?" Snafu interrupts, "You hear anything from Florence lately?"

"She's written, yes," Burgie says and turns as red as the canned beets Sledge's mother mailed last week.

Snafu whistles, Leyden begs Burgie to read any exciting bits aloud, and Sledge politely asks who Florence is.

"Burgie's girl he met in Australia after Gloucester," Snafu explains.

"I knew she liked me because she was the only girl not flocking around Snaf," Burgie jokes.

"Like flies to shit?" Bill snaps, "Snafu being the shit 'n ass."

"Don't think he slept in the stadium bunks with the rest of us even once," Jay laughs.

"I had more worthwhile places to go," Snafu says and eyes Sledge to gauge his reaction. He lazily takes a drag on his cigarette.

"Think we'll be given liberty in Australia again sometime?" Sledge asks. He holds Snafu's gaze steady.

"Don't care," Snafu shrugs.

"Unfortunately no," Burgie says, "I suspect we'll be run ragged till this war is over."

"At least she writes you," Bill interjects, "You'll just have to skip over thataway and pick her up before going home at the end of all this."

"Not sure how I'll manage that," Burgie takes a deep breath, "But it's true, I think she felt as strongly as I did. She expresses it well in her letters."

Bill whines that Burgie is holding out on his buddies by not divulging the content of said letters. He and Burgie get into a heated discussion that mostly consists of Bill begging and wallowing in self pity over not having any sweethearts.

Snafu and Eugene ignore them. Once Sledge finishes his meal, Snafu offers his cigarette again, and Sledge accepts. They pass it back and forth as they watch the sunset over the beach in the distance. Snafu wallows in every single touch of their fingers during each exchange.

"Speaking of mail," Sledge starts, "Snafu, did you leave paper on my bunk?"

"Why would I leave paper on your bunk?" Snafu scoffs.

"I thought maybe you were writing a letter and forgot it, or something?" Sledge asks, as though he isn't smart enough to put two and two together. No one accidentally leaves a jumble of notebooks lying around. Not when they're such a hard commodity to find.

Bill barks a laugh "Snafu writing? Can you imagine...that'd be the day."

"The only paper I ever concern myself with is asswipe," Snafu taunts. He dangles his cigarette out of his mouth and smirks at Leyden. Snafu throws one cautious glance over to Sledge and immediately regrets it.

Instead of being grateful, Sledge is annoyed. He snatches the cigarette straight out of Snafu's mouth. Sledge's fingers press into Snafu's lips briefly before he steals the smoke away, almost like a gentle punch. The unexpected touch and Sledge's deadly serious glare turns Snafu hot down to his toes.

Sledge finishes the cigarette in dead silence, and rather than stub it into the ashtray, he takes the nub and sticks it back between Snafu's lips. Sledge abruptly stands, grabs his tray, and stalks off without another word.

Leyden awkwardly coughs and gives Snafu a sympathetic look.

"Did you dump a bunch of papers on Eugene's bed?" Burgie asks Snafu for clarification.

"Fuck no," Snafu lies. They know he's lying. He grinds the cigarette into dust on the ashtray.

"Maybe I should have mentioned the Australian guys were buzzing around you, too," Jay suggests to Snafu, "Except there were less of them thanks to the war."

"Don't think that would've helped, Jay," Burgie says.

"Yeah?" Snafu says. He climbs over the mess hut wall and walks off.

#Sledgefu #Pining #Demisexual snafu #Bad germs

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