#I can hear your through the phone cackling

[apteryxparvus]

AITA for exposing my pro volleyball player boyfriend's monster addiction on r/fridgedetective?

Pairing — Suna Rintarou / Reader

Word count — 2,046

Content warning — none

Summary — When you accidentally expose your boyfriend for hoarding an ungodly amount of Monster energy drinks in his mini fridge, the internet takes it and runs wild.

You don’t think twice when you head to your boyfriend’s mini-fridge. Suna always keeps a stash of snacks and drinks in there for late-night movie marathons, and you’re desperately craving a fizzy hit of Ramune soda. But when you open the fridge…

Monster Energy. 

Monster Energy everywhere.

You don’t even spot the soda you’re looking for. Just rows upon rows of neon cans stacked like Tetris blocks, along with an alarming number of Chuupets squished in the corners. Who needs this much caffeine and sugar?

The fridge hums ominously, as if judging you for your surprise.

Naturally, you take a picture and post it.

For science.

You don’t expect much. Maybe 10 or 20 upvotes, and a couple of comments from bored strangers confirming that, yes, Suna’s energy drink consumption is borderline criminal. After all, it’s just a silly post on a silly subreddit, nothing to lose sleep over.

But when you groggily check your Reddit account the next morning, your notifications are wild. It’s not just a handful of upvotes—it’s thousands. Your post isn’t just trending on r/fridgedetective; it’s made the Reddit front page.

There’s an overwhelming flood of comments, many of them calling out your boyfriend by name. A part of you wants to laugh—because, really, how did they guess so fast?—but another part of you is too scared to even open Twitter or any other social media platform. You just know someone has screenshotted it and blasted it across the internet; probably with a wild caption like: “Suna Rintarou EXPOSED by his own partner”.

The sheer absurdity hits you like a train. Your boyfriend’s unhealthy obsession with energy drinks and frozen treats has gone viral. Your boyfriend has gone viral.

And, at this point, you’re not sure if you should wake him up to warn him, or just quietly pack your things and go into witness protection.

Among the chaos of Reddit notifications, your phone buzzes with a few messages. A quick glance tells you it’s from two very predictable sources.

Kita: Just empty the fridge and restock it with healthy food. He’ll grumble, but it’s for the best.

Atsumu: WOW I CAN’T BELIEVE U TATTLED ON MY BOY LIKE THAT 💀💀💀

You sigh, rubbing your temples. Against your better judgement, you open the Inarizaki High alumni group chat—and immediately regret it.

Atsumu is clearly living for this. You should’ve known better.

He’s on a rampage, flooding the chat with screenshots from Twitter.

"Suna's fridge contents have NO BUSINESS being this cursed."

"Suna Rintarou EXPOSED for his crimes against hydration."

"Monster sponsorship when???"

It’s one caption after another, each one wilder than the last. You groan, burying your face in your pillow, as if that could block out the chaos unfolding on your screen. You can practically hear Atsumu’s wheezy cackles through the text, and his twin brother, Osamu, is doing nothing to help—just spamming the chat with popcorn emojis like he’s front row at the circus.

You sigh, fingers hovering over the keyboard as you prepare to grill Atsumu for being the absolute worst at 7 AM. But before you can type a single word, the bed shifts.

Suna groans softly, stirring beside you. His arm slides over your waist, pulling you closer as he burrows his face into the crook of your neck.

“Mm, what’s with all the buzzing?” he mumbles, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Nothing,” you lie, way too quickly, throwing your phone across the bed like it’s radioactive. You lean in to press a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t worry, just go back to sleep.”

It almost works. Almost. But your phone keeps vibrating obnoxiously—no doubt Atsumu is still spamming the group chat with screenshots and whatever unhinged commentary he’s decided to add. You curse yourself for not muting him earlier, but now it’s far too late.

Suna groans again, this time with the exasperation of someone who just wants five more minutes of peace. He shifts, reaching for the phone you so desperately tried to avoid.

“Why’s Atsumu spamming the group chat so early?” he asks groggily, his thumb already swiping across the screen.

“No reason!” you blurt out, sitting up too quickly. “You don’t need to check—”

But it’s too late. The moment Suna opens the chat, his expression shifts. His sleepy indifference hardens into something sharper. 

Betrayal.

Two days later, you’re settled into your couch, blanket wrapped snug around your shoulders, laptop propped up on your knees. Kodzuken’s stream is set to start in fifteen minutes, and if you’re going to survive whatever chaos the streamer’s chat is inevitably bound to bring, you’re going to need a heavy caffeine boost.

Your eyes slowly drift to the mini fridge in the corner.

You’ve been trying to avoid it ever since the whole incident. But you cannot deny the itch for something cold and fizzy to keep you awake. There’s a moment of hesitation as you chew on your lip, before you finally stand up and pad over.

“Okay… alright,” you mumble to yourself, hand hovering over the handle. “It’s just a fridge. How bad can it be?”

You pull it open.

And the sight nearly makes you drop to your knees.

Gone is the chaotic hoard of neon green Monster Energy cans and suspicious, almost-melted chuupets. Instead, the shelves are pristine, almost squeaky white, gleaming as if the fridge belongs to some sort of soda commercial. And every single slot has been replaced with your favorite soda flavor.

Each glass bottle has a sticky note attached to it, the handwriting unmistakably Suna’s—slightly tilted to the right and a little lazy, like he couldn’t quite be bothered but also cared just enough.

The first note you pick you reads: “I’m doing this for you, even though it hurts 💔💔.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you pick up another bottle, the condensation slick against your palm. This note reads: “Please don’t post me online again 😔💔.”

A third one in the far back reads: “I hope you’re happy. My dignity is in shambles.”

You choke back a laugh, clutching the bottle to your chest like it’s some sort of love letter.

Everything is just absurd. Dramatic. Completely unnecessary.

But so him.

Kenma’s notification pings from your laptop, reminding you his stream is starting soon. But for a moment, you just stand there, bathed in the soft glow of the fridge light, staring at the ridiculous display of Ramune bottles and heartfelt stickies.

Dinner is a quiet affair, save for the occasional clink of chopsticks against bowls and the soft fizz that Suna’s Ramune soda makes as he takes a long, dramatic sip. You can’t help but glance at him as your phone buzzes with another notification from the group chat.

The #monstersmvp hashtag Atsumu created is still going strong.

You unlock your phone, and cover your mouth trying to stifle a laugh—Atsumu’s latest spamming spree is a trainwreck you cannot look away from.

“What now?” Suna asks, voice flat as he picks at his food.

“‘tsumu keeps sending the eulogies from the hashtag. Ready to hear the best of the best?”

 “No,” your boyfriend deadpans, taking another slow, deliberate sip of the fizzy drink.

Ignoring him, you start reading anyway. “Okay, here goes,” you clear your throat, holding the phone up dramatically. “Rest in power: Gone but never forgotten. Suna’s energy drink hoard was a beacon of poor nutritional choices and excessive caffeine addiction. Taken from us far too soon by the merciless hand of justice (a.k.a. his girlfriend). May its legacy live on in vending machines and gas station coolers everywhere.”

Suna rolls his eyes, but you can see the corners of his mouth subtly twitching, like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Wait, wait,” you say, scrolling further. “It wasn’t Suna’s blocks that made him a true legend. No, it was his fridge full of Monsters. The stash stood as a tall, proud monument to his dedication to caffeine and chaos, but alas, all good things must come to an end. In lieu of flowers, please send Ramune soda.”

He takes another slow sip of his soda, gaze fixed on you over the rim of the bottle. “These people are unhinged.”

“You mean your fans are unhinged,” you correct, waving your phone at him. “You brought this on yourself, you know.”

He sets the bottle down, resting his chin in his hand as he smirks at you, that lazy, infuriating smirk that makes your heart skip a beat even when you’re annoyed with him. “You’re awfully invested in this for someone who caused the whole mess.”

“Excuse me, you’re the one who kept a hoard of energy drinks like some kind of cryptid!”

“And you’re the one who made it go viral.”

Suna shakes his head, clicking his chopsticks. “If I ever get my stash back, I’m putting a padlock on that fridge.”

“Sure,” you tease, scrolling through the wall of text messages. “But you’ll have to bribe me first.”

The morning after starts with the doorbell buzzing like it’s got a personal grudge against your sleep. You groan, burrowing deeper into the blankets as Suna mumbles incoherently beside you.

“Are you gonna get that?” you ask, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Nope,” he replies, eyes still closed.

The buzzing continues, persistent and annoying, until you finally throw the blankets off with a groan. “Fine, I’ll do it. But if it’s Atsumu, I’m kicking him.”

Shuffling to the door in your pajamas, you swing it open, ready to give whoever it is a piece of your mind. Instead, you’re greeted by two delivery people dressed in head-to-toe Monster Energy attire. Hats, shirts, gloves—even their shoes have the Monster logo.

“Delivery for Suna Rintarou?” one of them says, all too chipper for this ungodly hour.

Behind them is a massive, industrial-sized fridge wrapped in black and neon green, the Monster Energy logo glowing ominously on the front.

You blink. “You’re joking.”

“We’re not,” the other delivery person says, already wheeling the monstrosity closer.

You stand frozen as they maneuver the fridge through the door, parking it in the middle of your living room like it belongs there. By the time Suna wanders out from your bedroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the delivery people are gone, and the fridge looms like some sort of otherworldly deity.

“What the hell is that?” he asks, voice rough with sleep.

“Your consequences, clearly,” you grumble.

“You think it comes pre-stocked?”

You stay quiet, keeping your distance from the fridge as if your glare alone might short-circuit the thing. If you got too close, you’d be tempted to whack it with something—like the baseball bat you keep by the door in case of emergencies.

Suna, unbothered by your lack of answer, wanders closer, hand lazily brushing against the neon logo before gripping the handle. He looks back at you with a smirk.

The door creaks open.

Even though the fridge isn’t even on, it’s packed to the brim with dozens upon dozens of Monster cans. Shelves sag under the weight of every imaginable flavor—there are classics, tropical blends, tea-infused hybrids, even some cans with foreign text that scream exclusive import.

“How is this fridge even stocked? It’s not on.” You can’t hold back the groan. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Look at this,” Suna says, picking up a can with a holographic label. He holds it up like it’s some kind of treasure. “I didn’t even know this flavor existed.”

“Put it back,” you say, your voice sharp. “I’m gonna set it on fire, I swear."

He doesn’t listen. Instead, he grabs another can, then another. “They’ve got the white pineapple, the tea blend... oh, and the zero-calorie peach! This is insane.”

“I’m gonna lose my mind.” You bury your face in your hands, trying to process the sheer audacity of the situation. “Who does this?!”

“There, there,” Suna teases, patting your back. “Want a sip?” he asks, cracking open a random can.

You glare at him, contemplating the consequences of slamming the door shut on both the cans and his smug face. Instead, you stomp to the couch, plopping down, and muttering, “I’m calling ‘tsumu. This has his name written all over it.”

Suna’s laughter echoes through the living room, followed by the distinct hiss of him opening yet another can.

Author's note: phew, editing the Reddit posts took ages 🤧 please ignore any discrepancies between the profile pictures of the users pls

i’ll marry whoever buys me a fully stocked redbull fridge, no questions asked

[lostinwonderlandx0x]

Hey, this is crazy, but you actually look a lot like my partner???

You dumb bitch why tf would you get on the internet and say this. If I was mad I would just post a naked picture under this of myself and get this post removed from the internet

[rae-writes]

touches

om brothers; fluffy 'n a bit cracky, short 'n sweet

So, like, I had this thought that sometimes the boys can feel you touching their pact. Not all the time, it only works if you’re intending for them to feel it— and then I had these along with it: 

Slowly tracing over Lucifer’s pact during a student council meeting and watching him stare you down while you try your best not to cackle (or when you know he’s with Diavolo, to which you’ll receive many stickers over text that express his [flustered] disgruntlement) 

Frantically rubbing Mammon’s pact because you guys went to a store and he wandered off and left you and you can’t find him and he’s not answering his phone and you are not happy and then watching him skid around the corner five seconds later like he’s on fire, yelling out an apology 

Tapping over Satan’s pact in Morse code, usually ‘I love you’, but sometimes about cats your passing by on the streets and receiving texts or calls so he can say it back (and or demand your location so he can pet that cat) 

Having an impulsive moment and deciding to chomp down on Levi’s pact, listening to/watching him shriek and nearly jump through the ceiling

Incessantly poking Asmo’s pact because he irritated you a little, grinning smugly because you can hear him grumbling as he does his makeup (only apologizes when he messes up because of it…he wasn’t being mean or anything! It was just a small inconvenience he didn’t think was important)

Having to smack Belphie’s pack- or get someone else to- because literally no other measures are working to wake him up. He falls off the bed and whines for a few hours, but he’s okay

Writing letters over Beel’s pact to talk to him when you aren’t near each other, asking if he wants to go get something to eat. He’s gotten really good at reading the phantom phrases and beams anytime he feels it

[ddejavvu]

Helloo!! Sooo I have a picture of mgg as my lock screen but his face isn’t in the picture and I was wonderinggg if you could write about the girls at the bau seeing your background of your phone and it’s some guy but they don’t know it’s spencer and they ask all these questions about this mysterious secret boyfriend you have and asking to meet him and r is just like maybeeee idk knowing that they have in fact met him and maybe spencer is near by and hearing all this and is just all shy and flustered. If you do write this THANK YOUUU you’re writing it phenomenal, one of a kind, it’s so good!!! <333

"Woah, hubba hubba," JJ's eyes bug out at your phone screen, and Emily, forever on JJ's wavelength, snatches it out of your hands before you can properly dim the screen.

"Who is that?" Emily asks everyone's burning question, and one of Penelope's hands squeezes yours, with nails, to emphasize her urgency.

Your lock screen is a picture of Spencer's bare chest clad only in a blazer, the front open in a lewd V that showcases the dark pink kiss marks you'd spread across the smattering of wiry curls he's grown. It's not something you'd meant to flash your coworkers with, and Spencer chokes on his water while Derek hoots and hollers at it.

"There are some things that should be kept private," Rossi drawls, eyes wide and haunted as he stands, "I'm going to get Aaron and myself another refill, just in case any worse pictures get shown around the table."

Hotch laughs at the older man, amusement lining his features handsomely as the group continues to tease you.

"So, when are you bringing this guy around? Not that we'd recognize him anyways, unless he showed up shirtless with lipstick all over him."

"Derek, you-" You barely stop yourself from saying, 'you have met him', instead swerving into an easy insult, "You're the last person I want to introduce him to. You'll never let us live this down."

"None of us will." Prentiss promises, her grin wolfish, "You'll be lucky if Garcia doesn't manage to track him down using nipple-recognition software."

Your technical analyst cackles into her drink, and Spencer makes a hasty getaway.

"I need the bathroom," He paws with burning cheeks at Derek's leg, ushering the man out of his way so that he can speed-walk to the bathroom. You watch him go, hearing Hotch let out a rare laugh at his urgency.

"Poor Spence," JJ croons, "Did you see how red his face was?"

"That kid's almost thirty and I bet he can't even say the word 'sex' without blushing." Derek scoffs.

"He can't. I've seen it." Garcia confirms, "It's pathetic."

"Pathetic," You snort, but what your team hears as agreement, you mean as contradiction. Spencer was nothing close to pathetic that night- sweet and tender, yes, but pathetic, no. He'd cupped your face while you'd spread a smattering of sticky kisses across his chest, and he'd stared into your eyes when you'd taken the picture, a smile on his face even though he'd known his grin wouldn't be in frame.

"Well get all of it out now," Hotch advises, a teasing tone in his voice, "Spencer won't come back if we're still talking about it."

"I'm happy for you." Dave states, setting his and Aaron's drinks down, "But so help me, Y/N, if I ever see your boyfriend's naked torso again, I'll kill myself."

You refrain from telling Rossi he had just seen your boyfriend's bare torso, last week when Spencer had needed to be stripped of his cold, wet clothes, and thrust into a heated blanket for warmth. No one had batted an eye at his brief nudity, and neither had you, because you'd memorized every inch of his skin. You didn't need to ogle him; you could recall his body from memory.

"I'll keep that in mind." You nod at Rossi sagely, "Just don't go through the rest of my camera roll." You see Spencer exit the bathroom, peering cautiously at your table to see if he can predict the conversation before returning, "Or you'll find a lot worse than his chest."

[kammazi]

★ katsuki and yourself weren’t big drinkers. sure after you two had graduated, you had gone to a few parties here and there but you were never a fan of the whole spinning dizzy feeling that alcohol brought with it, especially since you two are heroes. patrolling while hungover under the heat of the hot summer sun was dreadful.

so when you get a call from katsuki one evening while you were on patrol saying how kirishimas and the rest of the guys were going out for a few, who were you to say no? even though you knew the invitation for yourself always stood, katsuki needed some time for himself and by the time you would get off patrol it would already be past midnight.

so after exchanging some ‘i love you’s’, you disconnected the call and got back to whatever strolling you were doing.

and as the night went on you got more and more notifications that buzzed in your back pocket from who you assumed was your boyfriend. you eventually had a quick break and chugged an energy drink while fishing for your phone.

you let out a snort of laughter and looked around to make sure no one heard you before looking back down at your screen. there you saw multiple pictures took by denki of him standing on what you assumed was a stool while taking 0.5 picture’s of katsuki. what made you laugh even more was his flushed face and droopy eyes that held no fight in them as he stood there with his hands by his sides.

you could tell that he had drank quite a bit and as your break came to an end you had a short two hours left of your shift before you were able to finally get home and most likely take care of your said boyfriend.

and you were correct because as soon as you even such as stepped in through the doors of your shared apartment your phone once again started buzzing, this time it was a call.

“hello?” there was a shuffling noise before shouting hit your eardrums along with the music that blasted in the background.

“HEYY LOOK, ARE YOU-” you grimaced as you hear a glass breaking alongside some yelling. “huh? hello?”

the phone was picked back up. “THIS IS KIRISHIMA, KATSUKI IS KINDA REALLY DRUNK AND-” you then heard a whooshing sound and another crash. you stood there looking at your phone and then brining it close to your ear again. “uhh..kiri..shima?”

you heard the phone being picked up and panting into the microphone. “SORRY I JUST LAUNCHED MY PHONE HALFWAY ACROSS THE DANCE FLOOR AND IT HIT SOMEONE IN THE FACE.” you had to physically distance yourself from the phone before answering.

“kiri you don’t have to yell i can hear you!” you felt as if it was a screaming competition at that point. you heard a cackle before kirishimas finally got to the point.

“sorry, sorry! it’s just that bakubro got hella drunk and he’s kinda unmovable right now. he keeps saying your name and won’t really listen to anyone, would it be alright if you could come and pick him up?”

you were already picking up your keys and sliding on your shoes. “of course, be there in five.”

and so here you were pulling into the parking spot outside of the front doors of the building.

as you stepped in, you already felt exhaustion hitting you as you strolled around to try and find your boyfriend and those goons.

and then you saw him, sitting in a corner seat, with a cute sleepy look on his face, arms still crossed as always. kneeling in front of him, you saw denki, sero and kiri sitting across as they helped gather his stuff. you placed a palm against his face and patted his knee with the other.

“kats, love?” he groaned and slightly opened his eyes. “hey i’m gonna take you home okay?” and then suddenly, he moves his face away from your hand as his face held something like a mix of disgust and offence.

“get those damn hands away from me. i’ve a girlfriend.” although his speech was slurred you blinked before letting out a chuckle as the guys behind you hollered and stumbled over eachother.

you raised a brow, amused to see him act that way. “oh really? sorry about that kats, i won’t do it again.” his face whipped around to face you as he grimaced again. “oi. don’t call me that. only she can and you ain’t her.. so back off...” his sentence held no malicious intent as his head slowly tipped back. “where is she. i miss her.”

kirishima then came up next to you and patted his back. “bro shes right here! see?” in response to his words, katsuki raised his head and squinted at you for a while before slowly smiling. “heyy it’s my girlfriend.” immediately his head landed on your shoulder. he started babbling as he wrapped his arms around your frame, almost knocking you to the floor from the sudden weight. in the meantime, you glanced at his red headed friend.

“i’m sorry how much did he drink?” in response he scratched the back of his neck before holding up three fingers. “JESUS KIRI THREE BOTTLES?” kirishimas shook his head before cackling. “three drinks.”

now you knew your boyfriend was a lightweight but this was a tad too funny to you, not that you would ever tell him.. obviously.

with the help of kirishima, you managed to walk out a stumbling katsuki and just about sat him in the passenger seat before strapping him in as he babbled on about how much he missed you. sero and denki handed over his wallet and phone to you and you thanked them before saying your goodbyes as you sat behind the wheel.

on the drive back katsuki acted like he hadn’t seen you in months by the way he held your hand and kissed it every two seconds. with him telling you how much he loved you and how beautiful you where. in that moment you could not only feel somewhat giddy but be thankful for having this man in your life. no matter how tough he looked or acted, it really was true that he was a softy, drunk or not.

after arriving, getting him into bed wasn’t even a problem. he listened to your every word as he clung to you like a koala. you helped him brush his teeth on the toilet seat as you sat on his lap. even while drunk, his grip was still firm but gentle.

you then got him changed, him getting stuck in his t-shirt a few times, and you both finally climbed into bed. there was pure silence other that his quiet snores as he rested on your chest. as expected, he ended up passing out the second he wrapped his arms around you.

as you pressed a kiss on his forehead, you could once again feel the wave of exhaustion crashing over you as the warm pressure of katsuki’s body lulled you to sleep.

and in the morning katsuki awoke with not only a headache but also a lovely picture of his drunken state as a 0.5 printed and framed photo hanging in the living room as a forever reminder of that night.

[majestyeverlasting]

Hellooo, can I please request a Joel miller x reader oneshot where the reader had a really bad day at work and she’s calling him from the bathroom crying and he immediately rushes to pick her up? 🥰🩷

𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Pairing Joel Miller x Female Reader 

Summary A disheartening setback at work leads you to call Joel, who always knows exactly what you need [fluff, 1.6k].

A/N Thank you so much for this request and your patience, anon! Really enjoyed writing this one.

∘°∘♡∘°∘

Hi, are you busy right now?

A heavy exhale is freed from your chest the moment you hit send. It’s quiet in the bathroom except for the rhythmic drip of the leaky sink faucet. Muffled voices arise from the hallway as people pass by, some preparing to commute home. Warm tears stream down your cheeks. 

No sooner does your phone vibrate to life, a picture of you and Joel at McKinney Falls filling the screen. There isn’t much time to compose yourself before you press the accept button with a shaky thumb. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Got done early today, we’re cleaning up the site,” Joel greets, wind in the background. Tommy’s voice emits from nearby as well, followed by rowdy, cackling laughter. “Hold on a second, lemme get someplace quiet.” 

“Okay,” you murmur. 

There’s shuffling on his end of the line that eventually subsides. It’s still worth clinging to even though he’s miles away. 

“Sorry about that. Everything alright?” Concern dances around the edges of his words. You can tell he’s trying to keep them from being consumed. 

After Sarah moved out for college, he’d gotten better at accepting that every phone call he received from her didn’t automatically mean trouble. Most of the time, she simply wanted to catch up now that she lived two hours away. 

However, the opposite was true between you and Joel. Nowadays, you spend so much time together that there’s seldom a need to talk on the phone. The fact that you were calling him, from work, no less, meant something was up. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, but it doesn’t do much for the wavering of your voice when you finally speak up again, “Just wanted to hear your voice.” 

Your subsequent sniffle makes him grow still. You can see it through the phone. It’s in the way he doesn’t immediately respond, gears undoubtedly turning in his head. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” There’s a gentle, almost melodic quality to his voice that makes you wish you could lay your head on his chest and feel the rumble of his words. 

“Today’s just been a lot,” you tell him. “You know Alexander, the Bulletin’s editor?” He makes a small sound of affirmation. “It wasn’t his decision, but he pulled me aside to let me know my feature has been put on hold for further revision.” 

Relaying the news makes fresh tears well in your eyes. Over the past few weeks, Joel has watched you pour yourself into each stage of constructing the story to do the subjects justice—the meticulous research, heartfelt interviews, and late nights perfecting every draft. 

It was a labor of love, a piece that sought to illuminate the struggles of longtime Austin residents, artists, and small business owners navigating the challenges of gentrification and displacement. 

“Something about it being redundant.” Which, for all you knew, could be higher-up code for we don’t want this stepping on the toes of donors with deep pockets.  

“You’re kidding,” Joel grouses, disappointed for you. 

You shake your head even though he can’t see you. “I wish I was,” you breathe. “Redundant, yet they’ve got room for age-old dieting tips and holiday gift guides every year,” you say, voice wavering. 

“I know, I hear you. I’m so sorry, baby,” he soothes, releasing a heavy sigh. “At least it hasn’t been canned entirely. That’s worth something.”  

He’s right, but it still feels like a slap in the face considering all the time invested. From you and everyone who shared their story. 

“It just sucks,” you sniffle. “I didn’t get enough sleep last night, and now I feel even worse.” A dull ache has settled in your temples. 

Shuffling arises on Joel’s end of the line again, and you remember that he’s still on site. 

“I’m sorry. You can go if you need to.” 

Instead, he comes back with, “Hang tight, okay? Gonna come get you.” 

When you bite your lip instead of responding, he keeps talking, “Should be there in twenty, give or take.” 

As appealing as it sounds to be whisked away, reality is quick to set in. 

“No, it’s fine, Joel. Tommy and the guys need you. I couldn’t ask you to do that.” 

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t good for it,” he replies. 

•••

Outside, you’re met with a relaxed breeze and the dwindling warmth of downtown, where the sun eases towards the horizon. A few tourists mill around, men and women in business casual stride by with messenger bags. At Joel’s truck, which is parallel parked across the street, he gets the door for you. An 80s station plays low on the radio, Bruce Springsteen’s Born to Run faintly recognizable. 

You watch as he rounds to the driver’s side in that relaxed stride you love. He looks handsome despite his mused hair and the specks of dried paint on his shirt. When he climbs in, you’ve taken notice of the ice-cold raspberry tea in the cupholder closest to you. 

Along the way, he’d stopped and gotten it from the cafe you and Sarah frequented whenever she was visiting from school. You only went alone as an occasional treat, but he knew how much you liked it. 

A smile buds on his face when you pick it up and take a grateful sip. There’s a softness to his gaze that makes warmth bloom in your chest. With him, even the little things seemed to say, I see you. 

When you extend the cup his way in a silent offer, he waves you off. However, curiosity gets the better of him after he pulls off the curb. “Guess a sip won’t hurt.”

For the first time in what feels like hours, you smile when Joel hums at the flavor. For a moment, it doesn’t feel like the world is ending anymore. When he places his hand on your thigh, you intertwine your fingers with his, and he gives your hand a squeeze. 

A comfortable silence settles between you. It isn’t until you’ve left downtown that Joel speaks up again, voice measured and sure, “Your story will get out. Those guys know good journalism when they see it, and they’re gonna have to run it.” 

You glance over at him, your lower lip caught between your teeth as hope kindles in your chest.

“Hell, I’ll make my own publication if that’s what it takes. The Miller Times.” 

A chuckle bubbles out of you, but you could cry at the same time. For an entirely different reason this time. 

“I could get in trouble for going to a different publisher,” you remind him, running your thumb over the back of his hand as a small smile plays on your lips. “I’m on staff.”  

“I know, honey.” Joel squeezes your hand, a playful glint in his eyes. “Admit it, though. You thought about it for a second. The Miller Times has a nice ring to it.” 

He can see you fighting against your growing smile. “It’s alright.” 

“I’ll take that,” he concedes. Then, a greater air of sincerity settles over him. “What’s that one saying—setbacks are setups for something better.” 

You nod, gazing out the window as you turn into his neighborhood. 

“Don’t let this weigh you down.” 

You felt worlds lighter with him. 

•••

The warm spray of the shower feels so good against your skin that you remain under it even after the day’s troubles have washed away. Three months ago, you would’ve had to use Joel’s body wash, but your products and belongings had since made their way here. Some, he bought because he knew you’d be around, and others—namely, clothes—that migrated from your apartment. 

The word home has lost its shape in that regard. Not in a detached way of not belonging in any one place, but in that Joel’s house had begun to feel like just as much of a home as your cozy one-bedroom a few miles away. 

When you finally step out of the shower, a towel wrapped around yourself, you can see straight into the bedroom, where Joel is stretched across the bed. The sound of the shower door closing prompts him to sit up with a low grunt. You offer a shy smile upon meeting his gaze. 

“Promise I’m not creepin’ around,” he says, standing to his feet. “Just wanted to see if your headache was gone. Can bring up some Tylenol if you need it.” 

“It’s fine. I feel better now,” you assure. With a satisfied nod, he turns to leave with the intent of giving you space, but stops in his tracks when you speak up again, “You’re allowed to creep around if you want. I don’t mind.” 

Joel saunters into the bathroom doorway, propping an arm against the frame. The motion causes his bicep to strain against the sleeve of his shirt. Getting to see you like this, the intimacy of it all, always makes him feel grateful and warm. 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“You’re the boss,” you lilt.

With a low chuckle, Joel pushes out of the doorway and moves to stand behind you. You stare at your joint reflection as he rests his large hands on your hips, then leans down to press a delicate kiss to your bare shoulder. His frame is broad and rugged behind you, but his eyes are kind. 

When you rest your hands over his, he presses a second kiss to the crook of your neck. Then another just beneath your ear. His lips are so soft and warm against your damp skin that you can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine and makes you press back into him. 

“I like you like this,” he whispers. “Relaxed…smiling.”

Now that you’re in his arms, it’s hard to imagine having stayed at the newsroom. With the meetings, chatty colleagues, and constant blue light. It’s quieter here with Joel. The world at large has disappeared while your smaller one keeps turning.

“I didn’t realize how much I needed this,” you admit. 

But Joel did. He always did. 

-

Thank you so much for reading. Like, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all.

MORE

[explicit-tae]

Repent

Jungkook goes through highly desperate measures so he, the shy and reserved church boy that he is, could pleasure you just as you do him. Of course, it never goes in his favor.

Word Count: 6.613

Warning: porn watching, jungkook being embarrassed lol, kissing, smoking, nipple sucking, grinding, slight dirty talk, oral (f), fingering,

Part 1 | Part 2

“Why don’t you try watching some porn?”

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, biting the inside of his cheek. He inhales deeply, yet of course he should’ve known his friends wouldn’t be that helpful, but they haven’t teased him yet. 

“You’re acting like such a virgin, Kook.” Taehyung snorts.

Well, it was good while it lasted.

It was 12 am and Jungkook couldn’t sleep. All he could think about was you - you and your lips. Your tongue. It drove him crazy the entire day and now night.

Jungkook enjoys his time with you, even without the sexual actions. You brought a side out of him that he never knew he could experience outside of a relationship; especially a marriage.

Now, Jungkook wants to pleasure you. He wants you to be on the receiving end of pleasure instead of him. It took him several hours to come to terms with this, but he and you were so far down this rabbit hole that there wasn’t any stopping now. You wanted him and he wanted you just as much.

“Cut him some fucking slack.” Yoongi grumbles. “At least he’s finally doing something about himself.”

Jungkook opens his eyes and huffs. “Is porn really going to help me?” he asks. “Isn’t that all…fake?”

“Eh, some of it.” Jimin says. “Who cares. That Y/N girl seems cool enough. Just ask her what she likes.”

Jungkook springs up, phone pressed to his ear. “I can’t ask, Y/N.” he murmurs. “She’s…so perfect at everything and-”

“God, he’s in love.” Hoseok laughs. 

“Fuck you.” Jungkook mumbles.

The phone is silent, as is Jungkook. He isn’t one to curse, especially not around his friends. He knits his brows at how smoothly it comes from his lips.

Suddenly, there’s laughter from the other line and Jungkook can feel his cheeks rush with blood. 

“Did Kook just cuss at us?” Namjoon questions, slight amusement. 

“His little crush has him acting out.” Jimin cackles. “I like this new Kook.”

“You are never any help.” Jungkook groans. “I’m trying to ask for help with…with…”

“Eating a girl out.” Taehyung comments.

“And fingering. You have to know how to finger, too.” Yoongi adds.

“Look, Kook. I’m going to send over a few videos, okay?” Hoseok says. “You do with them what you will. You should try to get something to help you.”

“Help me…like what?”

Jungkook isn’t sure what would help him learn how to pleasure a woman well.

“Like…something you could use your tongue to assist. You know like licking ice cream? That’ll help.” Hoseok states. “Something. Anything. Just imagine it’s her.”

This is how Jungkook finds himself doing this. Headphones in, porn on his phone screen and a peach in hand. He feels idiotic for listening to his friends, but is there any going back now? After you had done many things to please him? He just wished to do the same for you.

Jungkook just didn’t know how - not really. There had to be more than just eating you out. You had to be aroused. You had to like what he was doing, too. 

“Just watch the videos I sent, Kook.” Taehyung said. “If her peach is truly ripe and she’s enjoying it, juices will be everywhere. That’s what the peach is preparing you for. Duh.”

Headphones in, Jungkook does as he was told to do. It feels wrong doing this. He was violating a peach in order to get the feel of what it was like pleasuring a woman.

“You need to get your dirty talk under control, too!” Jimin told him. “No girl wants to hear “vagina”. Just say pussy.”

The sweetness of the peach hits his tongue and he has to admit it tastes good and does cause him to lick further, the loud squealing of the moans from the porn he was watching blasts through his ears. Watching porn felt just as wrong, but he would be lying if he didn’t find it hot; the act of eating you out just as good as the man on his phone screen did to the woman. Getting to hear you squeal and moan his name, maybe have your own manicured hands run through his hair.

Jungkook’s hard, his pajama pants tightening around him as time goes on. His mind flashes to you as he squeezes his eyes shut, his tongue lapping over the cut peach. The way your body would look beneath him. The way your face would look stretched in pleasure. The way now he would be the reason for it - him using his tongue or hands to satisfy you.

Jungkook flinches visibly when his door crashes open. He drops the peach on his lap, the porn on his phone sounding loud through his headphones. His eyes are wide, like a deer in headlights. His lips and chin are dripping from the peach juice and he begins to shake his head.

“Y-Y/N…Meana…?” Jungkook cannot hear himself speak at first. His cheeks are deep crimson and he goes to immediately turn off the porn and throw his headphones across his bed. He turns back to the two girls - Meana, whose eyes are wide with shock and equally as embarrassed as him. You, however, are smiling like a cheshire cat and appearing to hold back laughter. 

“Kookie…” your voice is low and teasing. Your eyes are always mischievous, but now they are something more.

“W-What are you two doing here?” Jungkook wipes his lips with the back of his hand, wishing that God would strike him down right now. One, for being dumb enough to do this, at all. To allow his friends to corrupt his mind even further to go as far as to violate a peach.

That, and for not locking his cabin door. Jungkook never saw the reason to as no one ever roamed the halls at night. 

No one except you, Jungkook should’ve known.

“I-It’s not what y-you think-”

“Save it.” you raise your hand to silence him. You close the cabin door and release a short giggle. “I know exactly what you were doing. It’s alright.”

“It…it is?” Jungkook glances at Meana who immediately glances away. She’s just as horrified as Jungkook is. He could die right now.

“Yes, Kookie. It is.” you assure. It’s now he notices that you’re holding Meana’s hand. You must’ve dragged her along to his bedroom to cause mischief, whatever your reason being is unknown. “We’re all growing young adults, right? We’re all interested in sex.”

Meana and Jungkook flush and all you can do is chuckle.

“I forgot who I was speaking to.” you shake your head jokingly. “Sex is the forbidden word for single individuals. Meana,  come.”

Jungkook widens his eyes when you and Meana begin to walk towards him on his bed. He sits straighter and even goes as far as to turn on his desk light for more light, as the only light illuminating through his room was the street light shining through outside his window.

“So, who were you watching?” you say as you plop down onto his bed. 

“Who?” Jungkook furrows his brows. “I’m not sure who. It was only a ten minute video.”

“You must not watch porn often.” you simper, finding the man utterly cute. You couldn’t wait to ruin him and show him just what you know to be true about him.

“I…” Jungkook’s eyes connect with Meana, and once again the mousy girl looks away in utter embarrassment. This had to be terribly awkward for the pair of them. “...not really…”

Meana crosses her arms a bit, warmth flowing through her entirely just as it did with Jungkook.

“Not…like I don’t want you two here.” Jungkook speaks, swallowing that uncomfortable lump in his throat. “You are my friends but…why…are you here so late?” Jungkook questions. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Jungkook couldn’t say it was weird for you, seeing as you were determined in your own right. You had broken many rules on the first day. Meana, however, was a different story. You and her being together was a work of your doing no doubt.

“Something like that.” you respond with a giggle, laying on your side without a care. “Have you two ever smoked before? Or is that a sin, too?”

You’re joking with them, of course. 

“No…” Jungkook shakes his head. “Does vaping count?” he then asks. Taehyung had managed to get him to do that, a blueberry flavor that he wasn’t sure he enjoyed.

You giggle again at Jungkook’s question, but you don’t answer. 

“Have you ever gotten high?” you sit up on his bed and go through the fanny pack wrapped around your waist. “Do you want to?”

Meana watches as you release a lighter - bedazzled with sparkling rhinestones - and an already rolled joint. 

Jungkook’s eyes slightly widened.

“I take that as a no. Here,” you pass the joint towards Jungkook who grabs it with shaky fingers. “put it between your lips.”

Meana is just as intrigued as Jungkook. Your hand flickers the lighter as Jungkook puts the joint between his lips and you light the end of it.

“Inhale”

Jungkook does as you say, the burning sensation hitting his throat and immediately, he coughs uncontrollably.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. “That was a rough hit.” you say. “Not that hard, Kookie. Start off slow. Then exhale.”

Jungkook feels his eyes water, his cheeks bright red. He was beginning to hate himself for having to be taught everything. He should’ve listened to his friends for years when they told him to let loose. If he would’ve known a woman like you would come into his life and change it in such a short amount of time, he possibly would’ve considered it.

“Do you want me to get you some water?” Meana questions, already getting up to go to the corner of the cabin where the mini fridge was. She opens it to find several rows of banana and strawberry milk and a few flavored soda. She grabs one half filled bottle of water.

“Thanks.” Jungkook murmurs, unscrewing the top to chug the rest of it down. “I suck at this.”

You shake your head with a grin. “I was worse my first time.” you admit. “Let’s try again, yeah? It’ll get better.”

Jungkook nods, placing the joint back in his lips and doing as you told him to. Inhale slowly…take it in…exhale.

Jungkook nods his head a bit. “Okay…I think I got it.”

“Meana. Why don’t you try?”

Meana is just as nervous. Her palms are already sweaty when her fingers take them from Jungkook’s. She lifts it to her own lips and tries to do the same as Jungkook. She coughs just as much as he does.

It takes about 30 minutes for Jungkook and Meana to be low-eyed and a bit giddy. They both appear to have let loose, laughing and joking along with you. Once tense shoulders now are relaxed and it appears to be not a care in the world.

“Feels better, right?” you say, your eyes on the ceiling. You lay your back against Jungkook’s soft bed. 

“A lot better.” Jungkook hums, besides you on your right while Meana on your left. The three of you all staring at the ceiling - possibly past it. “I feel so…”

You wait for Jungkook to speak.

“...calm.” Meana responds.

You want to cackle at how they’re acting, but instead you push yourself into a seated position. Looking towards the two church goers and you tilt your head.

“You’re very pretty, Meana.”

Meana’s eyes blinked towards you, a light flush on her cheeks.

“Thank you…” Meana mumbles.

You grin at the girl. “You must’ve had a lot of boyfriends.”

Jungkook turns his head towards Meana and you, not speaking but highly intrigued into the conversation.

“Not really.” Meana snickers, pushing herself into a seated position like you. “I wasn’t allowed to date until I was 18.” she admits, her demeanor relaxed and not as shy and reserved as her prior self. “Now…I’m kinda awkward. I never really been on a date either.”

“That’s kinda sad.” you say without thinking. You’re prepared to apologize but Meana agrees with you with a rapid nod of her head. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

Jungkook is more intrigued now, fully turning over on his side to watch Meana and you.

“If you count a kiss that you were forced to do in a closet with your friend's brother during a sleepover at the age of 12 then…sure?”

 You nod  your head slowly. You begin to hum, looking towards Jungkook. His eyes are slightly red and obviously heavy. You reach your hand into your fanny pack and release the tube of glittery lip gloss and begin to coat your lips with it. 

“Do you want to try it?” you question Meana. 

Meana looks down at your tube of lipgloss and shrugs her shoulders. “I can-”

“I mean,” you place the tube aside carelessly. “do you want to try kissing me?”

Jungkook feels all the slumber he once felt immediately subside when  he hears your words. Meana herself is taken aback, her cheeks now fully coated with rushing blood. 

“I-I don’t-”

Meana snaps her lips shut when you place both of your hands on her cheeks. She’s eerily still with wide, confused eyes.

“Let’s give it a try.”

Jungkook licks his lips, doe-like eyes unblinking. He watches you intently, as if the world suddenly begins to slow down. Any sound that would distract him appears to fall upon deaf ears and his breath hitches when he sees your lips - glossy and glittery - fall upon Meana’s. 

Meana is entirely stiff as your lips are on her. She’s truly an awkward individual but you cannot blame her. She was raised in a strict household and church and didn't get the regular experience normal teenagers had growing up. This wasn't your first time kissing a girl.

Meana can smell your perfume during the kiss that further intoxicates her as your lips move along hers. It’s citrusy and soft; much like your hands on her cheeks. 

Jungkook feels ashamed of the feeling of his pajama pants growing tighter. He was already semi-horny due to the video but as time went on with you and Meana in the room with him it was slowly dying down. However; it’s light his cock instantly began to become excited once more at the sight of two women kissing.

It was so childish, Jungkook thinks. Then again, everything he was experiencing was so delayed. He was a man but he felt like a teenager with all the emotions he’s feeling.

This was wrong , Jungkook thinks. It was an invasion of privacy to be watching you two. He was sexualizing you and Meana and that’s not what he wanted to do; but it was hard to take his eyes away from the sight.

“I-I…” 

Meana is tongue tied when you lift your lips away from her.

“How did that feel?”

Meana’s cheeks are burning at your question. She was hesitant to speak about how much she enjoyed the simple kiss.

“A-Alright?”

“Is that a question?” You chuckle with a tilt of your head. 

“No,” Meana shakes her head. She swallows. “It felt nice…” she says meekly, like a mouse that wants to run and hide from a predator. “I…I have to go.”

You watch for a moment as Meana gathers herself and stands from Jungkooks bed. He is even placed out of his daze for a moment.

“Are you okay, Meana?” Jungkook calls after her but she’s already halfway towards the door.

“I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?” you call for Meana, going to follow after the girl. Maybe your approach towards her was too strong. You were just being playful and sometimes others didn’t find it enjoyable.

“I’m fine!” Meana assures with a nod of her head. “I have to get back before my sister notices…”

The door closes quietly and you and Jungkook are left seated together. It’s silent for a moment, Jungkook staring at his closed door that Meana walked out of. 

“Kookie…?”

Jungkook blinks your way and swallows when he finds that you’re closer than he expected.

“Yes?”

“What are you thinking?” You question him. “Your eyes are cloudy.”

“I..I don’t…it’s not important.” 

Jungkook’s cheeks burn with embarrassment at how much he enjoyed you and Meana kissing, even if it was innocent. It felt wrong how much he wished he could watch the pair of you. 

“Tell me.” you insist, though you had a thought. The tent in his pajama pants are noticeable. 

Jungkook doesn’t have the chance to respond before you’re tackling him to his bed. Both of your legs lock him between you and you sit directly on top of his hardened length. You knew exactly what was wrong with him - you thought it was cute. You just wanted Jungkook to tell you himself. 

“You’re hard.”

Jungkook grunts, swallowing the lump in his throat so he can respond. “I-“

“Did that excite you?” you question, interrupting him. “Watching Meana and I kiss?” 

Jungkook nods his head with haste as you begin to slightly grind against him. “Yes. I know…I know it’s wrong-“

“Why would it be wrong?” you ask. Possibly because of his religious beliefs.

“It’s not right to sexualize you and Meana!” 

Jungkook’s words caused you to laugh and halt your grinding. You allow your head to fall backwards and let out another laugh that Jungkook himself believes to think he’s said the wrong thing.

“Y/N-“

“You’re so cute, Kookie.” you coo, lowering your face to his in a swift movement that he barely has a chance to register. “So, so cute.”

“Thank you..?” Jungkook bites the inside of his cheeks. “That isn’t much of a compliment.”

You frown a bit. “Why not?” you question. “You are cute.”

“I don’t want to be cute.” Jungkook murmurs, this time placing his hands on your hips. “That’s embarrassing.”

“To be cute?” You snicker. You rub your nose against his. “Why? Do you prefer to be ugly?”

“No.” Jungkook squeezes your hips. “I want to be…I don't know. Hot?” he’s humiliated at just saying it aloud. “I…being called cute is too childish for me.”

You nod along to Jungkook’s sentiments. It was hard not calling him cute as he was such an honest person . So truthful and kind that you couldn't help but coo - and want to mount him. 

“You are hot.” you deadpan. “I can tell you but you have to believe you are yourself.” you state. You proceed to kiss along his cheek before pushing yourself away. Your hands lay upon his chest. “What were you watching earlier?” 

Jungkook releases a sigh. 

“You were-“

“Please don’t remind me. My friends,” Jungkook closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.  “said that…a peach is like…you know.”

“Eating out a girl?” 

Jungkook nods meekly.

“Who are you looking to eat out?”

Jungkook blinks. “Are you asking me that seriously?” he asks. 

You couldn’t help but grin. “There’s other girls that could want to mount you like I do, Kookie.” you say teasingly, though you find the act of him wanting to practice for you endearing. 

“I don’t really talk to girls outside of work and the Church. They don’t really approach me.”

“I think you’re lying. That, or just oblivious.” You state. There’s no way a man like Jungkook can walk the streets and not have a single girl approach him. “You just think they’re making small talk and not flirting.” 

Maybe you’re right, Jungkook thinks. Yet he doesn’t find his eye wandering to women who interest him often. That was before you came along. And maybe that's  because you're very apparent with what you want. 

“So…you want to eat me out?”

Jungkook licks his lips and nods sheepishly. “You always do things for me.” he murmurs. “I want to do something to pleasure you.” 

You smile down at the man. “You’re so-“

“Hot.” Jungkook states, his eyes squinting at you slightly. “The c word is forbidden for you to say in times like this.” Jungkook squeezes your hips and you nod at how serious - and cute - he was. 

“Hot.” you grin. 

“So…can I?” Jungkook doesn’t wish to sound too eager or desperate. But he was high and already horny. You being on top of him at this moment also didn’t help. 

“You can.” you murmur. “We should probably take it one step at a time. 

Jungkook nods slowly. 

You place both hands onto his cheeks and press your lips to his. 

With each peck you speak.

 “You,” Peck. “have,” Peck. “to,” Peck. “set the,” Peck. “mood first.” 

Jungkook nods with each peck of your sweet lips. His hands roam up your back and to the back of your neck, slightly massaging it. 

“I’m sure you know what to do outside of porn.” you tell him. “Right?”

Jungkook nods a bit, still unsure by what you mean. He hums a bit. 

“Like…foreplay?” 

You nod your head. “Yes. Kissing is a form of foreplay. We’re doing that now.” you murmur, pressing your lips to his jaw. You send soft kissing upwards until you reach his ear. “Touching…licking…it’s all foreplay for what’s to come, okay?”

“Okay.” Jungkook murmurs back. His lips are eager to feel yours again, finding the feeling of them to be intoxicating. He presses his lips against yours and hums in satisfaction, finding that he doesn’t want to let go of you at all. He was afraid that this could be another wet dream of his that he would wake up from.

“Give it a try.” you say, leaning away from Jungkook’s warmth. 

Jungkook is unsure what he wants to do, his mind clouded because he wants to do it all. 

Your lips twitch, but you wouldn’t ruin the moment. If you laugh now - though it was harmless - Jungkook would think that you were laughing at him and his lack of experience. That wasn’t the case. Jungkook was cute to you - but you couldn’t say that now.

Your hands place themselves onto his shoulders. “You work out a lot?” you question, slightly rubbing them.

Jungkook nods a bit. “It’s fun.” he states.

You tilt your head. “Fun?” you snicker. “Take your shirt off.”

You don’t lift yourself from Jungkook’s lap but you do allow him to sit up so he could do as you say.

You place your hands on Jungkook’s biceps, finding them interesting. He did work out like he said he did and now you’re even more confused as to why the man acts the way he does; shy and reserved. He could be a fuck boy if he truly desired. 

“What turns you on, Kookie?” you ask him, your eyes lifting from his shirtless form to his eyes. “What do you like?”

“I don’t-”

“Everyone knows what they like, right?” you interrupt. “This can be easier if you show me what you watch.”

Jungkook stiffens. He doesn’t want to show you the porns he watched. He prayed upon it several times to allow the sick and perverted thoughts to go away. They weren’t normal in the slightest and it would obviously turn you off - 

“Why do you look like you’re about to pass out?” you laugh. “I just want to know what you like. Are you…vanilla?” you raise a brow. “Maybe you like to be a little rougher?”

Maybe you were enjoying teasing Jungkook a little too much. You weren’t expecting to come into his bedroom and find him in the act of watching porn and performing on a peach - but it was a start!

“How about I tell you what…I envision you doing to me?”

Jungkook’s breathing intensifies a bit as he nods.

“I envision…” you press your thighs tighter against his small waist, caging him right beneath you. He had no true intentions of moving you, either way. “...you being rough with me.”

“R-Rough?” Jungkook gulps.

“Mhm,” you nod your head. You lower yourself so you can whisper in his ear. “fucking me against the bed. Maybe the floor.”

Your tongue is warm against the rim of Jungkook’s ear, toying with him further.

“Slapping me a bit, too. Choking me.”

Jungkook’s breathing hitches. He squeezes his eyes shut.

The sinful, perverted thoughts were returning. The acts he has watched (shamefully) were being spoken aloud by you; you wanted him to treat you in such a shameful way.

“You…you wouldn’t be upset with me?”

You bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling. Not at him, of course, but it brings you back to how cute you thought Jungkook was. 

And how much you wanted to bring the man deep inside of Jungkook out.

“Why would I be upset with you, Kookie?” you murmur, your tongue sliding up his ear once more. 

“I…” Jungkook swallows, his hands sliding up your back once more to feel your body. He flutters his eyes open. “...I thought about it. A few times…” he admits, warmth flowing through him at actually speaking it aloud. “...I don’t want to disrespect you in such a way.”

“It’s not disrespectful if I like it.”

Jungkook breaths a bit harder, his cock twitching. You felt it and you yearn to have it in you now, but you wouldn’t. Not tonight. He was already going through a lot in such a short amount of time that you would wreck him completely.

“Can I eat you out?”

Jungkook’s voice is eager and it comes out smoothly. No stuttering in sight.

“I never have before but…I want to.” 

You hum, slowly lifting yourself in a seated position. You tilt your head. 

“Do you want me naked?”

“Yes…please.” Jungkook’s cheeks are a dusty pink at your question. He hasn’t seen you naked since the first time you and he were together and the thought makes his mouth salivate.

“Okay.” you tap his chest lightly. “Why don’t you help me then?”

Set the mood, Jungkook thinks to himself. His hands softly glide upwards towards the end of your shirt. He slides his hands up, glancing to your face to see if it was alright - even if you had given him prior permission.

Your shirt is off within seconds and now you remove yourself from his lap, much to his dismay. You unhook your own bra - a simple, grey colored one that you toss aside confidently. 

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek once more as you sit yourself on his bed beside him.

Jungkook takes the initiative to go towards your shorts next, his fingers hooking into the hem and sliding them down gently.

“You’re very beautiful, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs, his face close to yourself. It’s gentle - his tone - and it makes you want to fuck him even more.

You’re naked now; this time on his bed. Jungkook wants to take it in for a moment. Lock the sight into his mind - maybe have a chance to draw you later on if his memory allowed him to.

Jungkook kisses you once more, his body hovering above you. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his clothed body to your naked one.

It appeared as slowly, Jungkook was opening up and adjusting. His palms are a bit sweaty as he touches you, but it doesn’t bother you. They roam your naked skin with such urgency, gripping eagerly at the softness of it.

“So, so beautiful…”

Jungkook murmurs, his lips going towards your neck. He inhales you for a moment, the familiar scent of your perfume you wore daily.

Your mouth falls open to moan slightly when you feel Jungkook’s tongue lick upon your skin, your arms only gripping onto him tighter.

Jungkook kisses begin to go lower. His right hand glides towards your sides until it lays upon your breast. He grips it, knowing you liked it just by the way you moan out.

“Can I-”

“You don’t have to ask, Kookie.” you murmur.

“Hm,” Jungkook hums. “Consent.”

You release a snort and nod your head. “I suppose you’re right.” you agree. “Yes.”

Jungkook lowers his head towards your breast, his tongue poking out to lick along your nipple. It’s something he hasn’t done before either and was told that it was something else girls enjoyed. He didn’t believe everything in porn was real, but this had to be right?

So Jungkook does what he’s seen, suckling onto your nipple while he grips onto the free one. He isn’t sure himself why the action turns him on. Maybe it’s because of the way your back arches slightly and you’re moaning? It tells him that he’s doing a good job; that you’re enjoying what he’s doing. That for once he’s pleasuring you. 

Jungkook grinds against you a bit, his cock wishing to feel you entirely. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist to bring him closer, hands tangled into his hair. He goes towards the other breast, suckling onto it like his life depended on it. His breathing is more heavy now, his grinding quickening but you aren’t complaining. You were enjoying the Jungkook that wasn’t shy and reserved - the Jungkook you knew was there deep down.

Jungkook’s hands are greedy as they roam your naked skin. From gripping your breast to sliding down your curves to your thighs. He pulls it closer to him so he could feel you against his cock even more, groaning against your breasts.

“Kookie…”

Hearing how sweet his name sounds from your lips, Jungkook groans. He lifts his head a bit to look at your face that’s twisted into pleasure. “Yeah?”

You lick your lips, your eyes fluttering open to look at him. “You’re really good at this.” you say, your fingers slightly gripping his hair. 

Jungkook’s eyes widened a bit, his cock twitching. He nods slowly, feeling a sense of pride throughout him.

Jungkook, eyes still on you, kisses your breast. They aren’t rushed. Instead, they’re slow as if savoring the moment. He goes lower, reaching your stomach. It causes you to giggle a bit as you are a bit ticklish, an act that Jungkook himself finds cute.

“I might not be good at this.” Jungkook admits, giving a final kiss towards your abdomen.

“It’s not rocket science, Kookie.” you respond. “You can try following what you saw in the video.”

Jungkook nodded, though he was skeptical. He didn’t want you to be disappointed in him. He was already embarrassed enough as it was that he didn’t have experience. What if you laughed at him? He would have no other excuse but to dig a hole himself and allowed his life to slowly diminish-

“You’re thinking too much into it, Kookie.” 

You place a hand on top of Jungkook’s head. He’s now right between your legs, having stared at you far too long that you were beginning to wonder that maybe he wasn’t ready for this.

“If you don’t want-”

“I do want to!” Jungkook insists, fingernails digging into your thighs as he didn’t want you to leave. “I just…want to make sure you feel good.”

You widen your legs a bit, a glint in your eyes.

Jungkook finds that if he doesn’t do anything now, you would assume he was a scared puppy with his tail between his legs.

And Jungkook wasn’t. He was a man. Not a cute one like you insisted - a hot one. He could do this.

Jungkook presses a kiss against your folds before laying his tongue flat against your clit, slowly running his tongue against it. The action causes you to flinch a bit, but before Jungkook reacts, you press yourself firmly against his tongue.

It takes a few minutes, but Jungkook actually was getting the hang of it. You were surprised, truly. He hasn’t moved and lifted his head up for air and instead continues to suckle onto your clit. His embrace on your thighs are even tighter than before, truly assuring you don’t leave.

Your moans are what's driving Jungkook further. His will is purely fueled by the way you moan his name. The way your hips grind against his tongue and your hand tug on his hair.

Jungkook’s mind wanders to what Yoongi had said earlier about fingering. He isn’t sure how that would work or if it would truly pleasure you, but he was going to try. Whatever it took to hear you moan his name like you were right now.

Jungkook raises his head a bit, his right hand releasing its grip onto your thigh to center itself at your entrance. He glances up for your reaction, tilting his head a bit to see if what he was doing was right.

Your mouth falls open a bit as Jungkook slowly inches his fingers inside of you. He always see’s the men in porn start with two - he cannot imagine putting his whole fist inside of you; wouldn’t that hurt?

You’re tight, pussy gripping around his fingers. Wet, too, and it even causes Jungkook to groan at just how warm and inviting your pussy feels around him. He licks his lips, deciding to pump his fingers inside of you.

“You’re doing good.” you murmur, biting your lip. Maybe Jungkook was a fast learner - a few more practices and he would be as if he wasn’t once the shy little church boy.

“How do you want me to do this?” Jungkook asks. He assumed you wanted him to be rougher by your earlier words.

Jungkook hovers above you a bit, admiring how beautiful you were. It felt like a dream that he hopes he doesn’t wake up from. He lowers his lips to yours, and you find the act far too exciting. Tasting yourself on Jungkook’s lips just wants you to further have him in whatever way you can. 

Your hand wraps around Jungkook’s wrist as he pumps his fingers inside of you, squeezing it for support.

Dirty talk - was that something that counted now? Jimin told him that girls enjoyed it and he’s sure you had to, as well. He doesn’t want to sound utterly disgusted that it turned you off. But…there was no way he was going to say vagina in a time like this.

“Does it feel good?” Jungkook murmurs, his forehead now pressed lightly against yours. 

“So good.”

“You’re very…very wet.”

“Because of you.” 

Jungkook feels you squeeze around his fingers. 

“You…don’t have to be scared to be rougher, Kookie. I know you want to.”

Something like this felt so wrong - being on a cabin trip that’s a part of the Church. You sneaking into his bedroom and him engaging in such sinful acts with you. However, it felt so exciting not looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching you and him. It brought him through the roof in knowing that out of any man you could have, you chose him. Jeon Jungkook - the shy and reserve church boy in a fuckboy’s body.

Jungkook takes your advice and begins to pump his fingers into you at a faster speed, astonished by how even more wet you were becoming. It coats his palm entirely and he’s flickering his eyes from you to your pussy, unsure where wants to set his eyes on. 

“Your…pussy’s so wet.” Jungkook hums, marvelling. “And pretty.”

You giggle between your moans. Your lips press to Jungkook’s cheek and you peck it before speaking. “I never knew church boy Kookie could speak so dirty.”

“I have a dirty mouth.”

Jungkook wants to try something he’s also seen in porn - and something he’d think you’d like.

“I want to make you cum.”

Jungkook’s warmth besides you is eliminated, but he makes up for it when he goes back between your legs. He begins to pump his fingers harder inside of you, digging against your tight walls. His tongue places itself back onto your clit, flickering between your folds more confidently. Now that he has an understanding of what you like, he is fully intended on doing this until you indeed cum.

It’s all surreal for Jungkook. He never knew that he would actually enjoy doing this. His tongue savors the sweetness of your juices that only appear to form more as he continues to lick. He’s like a dog starved, his head shaking back and forth.

Your back arches and your pussy squeezes around Jungkook’s shoulders. You cannot bring yourself to watch anymore as the sight of the once shy Jungkook between your legs was far too exciting. Your hands cup your breast, squeezing them for support.

“Slow down, Kookie…I’m gonna cum if you don’t-”

Jungkook doesn’t as that was the point. He wanted you to cum against his tongue just as you allowed him to the day prior. 

“I want you to cum, though.” Jungkook says, rather innocently, between your legs. But you know better, especially when you open your eyes to look right at him. His eyes are dancing with mischief just like yours was when he was once in the vulnerable position. 

“Y-Yeah?”

Your hips buckle against his tongue. Jungkook lays it flat to allow you to, yet his fingers continue to thrust deep inside of you. It was as if something came over Jeon Jungkook; an entity had entered him entirely and took over entirely.

You enjoyed this Jungkook.

This Jungkook was going to make you cum.

“Shit, Kookie…” you can feel it coming. Your stomach was clenching. “...I’m gonna cum…!”

It’s exactly what Jungkook wanted. He wanted to taste you cum all over his tongue - God forgive him for partaking in such heinous activities before marriage, but he’d repent for them. This was just a slip that he had to get off of his shoulders as if he hadn’t, who knows how he would’ve reacted. Maybe his body would have given out and there wouldn’t be anymore Jeon Jungkook.

Possibly he was just being dramatic as he could survive without tasting you - but he’s unsure if he could go back to normal after this.

You squeeze Jungkook between your legs as you come, body trembling. He doesn’t find it as alarming as he should that any moment he could pass out without any air - but it would be an amazing way to go, he thinks. 

“Stop-”

You yank Jungkook’s hair roughly to get him away from your overstimulated clit. He licks his lips, doe eyes wide. “Overstimulated…” you murmur, though your body is screaming at you to let the man continue.

You lift your body from Jungkook’s bead and sit yourself up. You were growing tired.

“I should probably go.” you say.

Jungkook watches you for a moment, the both of you sitting in silence. 

“You can stay here if you’d like.” Jungkook suggests. It was still late, after all, and you didn’t look like you wanted to walk back to your own cabin. “You look tired.”

“I am.” you admit with a chuckle. “You made me cum so hard.”

Church boy Kookie has returned, his cheeks reddening at your words.

“I can stay…if I’m not intruding.” you say. You lay your head back down, this time on one of his pillows. 

“No. No.” Jungkook shakes his head. “You’re not intruding.” he murmurs. 

“Aren’t you going to lay with me?” you’re amused. You grasp the covers and expect for him to lay right besides you. “Cuddle me to sleep.”

Jungkook nods hastily, going into his bed and doing just that. He wraps his arms around your waist and you snuggle against him, head on his chest. The act alone causes his heart to race and he hopes you don’t hear it.

“Night, Kookie.” you murmur, eyes fluttering close. His heart rate was endearing, you think. You’d tease him about it tomorrow.

“Night, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs back, holding you a bit tighter.

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- when you're injured

SCOUPS:

he's speeding you to the hospital no matter how small the injury is. will lowkey make a big deal out of something as tiny as a cut. scolds you for not telling him sooner and for putting yourself in harms way. coddles you once you're home, refusing to let you touch a single piece of housework. he'll mother hen over you for at least a couple days before he accepts you're ready to be independent once again.

JEONGHAN:

laughs. (im so sorry) he will 100% start cackling first before he asks if you're okay. makes fun of you as he takes care of you and reenacts the moment for your viewing pleasure. scolds you for being so clumsy and will baby you as you recover.

JOSHUA:

the type of immediately jump into action. the moment you cry out in pain or he sees you falling, he's by your side as if he's teleported. holds you as he checks your injury, fussing over it and asking if you need to go to the hospital. will take you anyways even if you say no. holds your hand the whole time. tells you to be more careful cause he doesn't like seeing you in any sort of pain.

JUN:

if it's a particularly funny way you injury yourself, he'll eat that shit up. is too busy laughing to check if you're okay until you start crying and he'll be like oh shit it's real okay let me lock in. extra attentive once he realizes its serious.

HOSHI:

the type to let out a loud scream when he sees you go down with an injury - you'd think he was the one in pain. he wants to help, he swears - but he's just as lost as you are. the only thing he knows is to take you to the hospital for professionals to help you since he can't.

WONWOO:

is immediately playing doctor with the random bits of knowledge he's gained on the medical side of tiktok (why he's on the medical side of tiktok idk). he's meticulous and precise with it, taking care of you like it's his profession. will crack a few jokes (albeit quite poor jokes) to try and cheer you up. reads to you as you try to fall asleep, his attempt at distracting you from the pain.

WOOZI:

realistically, woozi hears about your injury over the phone. he's at work in his studio cooking up another massive banger, and isn't fazed when he picks up your call. you tend to call him at least twice to make sure he's eating anyways. worried when you tell him what happened and asks if you need him there with you. either way, he's packing up to leave asap, no longer in the mindset to work knowing you're in pain.

MINGHAO:

if your injury was your own fault, he'll look at you like: (¬_¬") he's sighing at your clumsiness and you can hear the disappointment as he tends to your injury, all the while nagging about how you've got to be more careful. calls his mom to ask which herbal medicine will fix you faster - jokingly comes back with ginseng tea, telling you its to fix your clumsy ass brain.

DK:

screeches when he sees you drop. gags at the sight of blood. he approaches you slowly, hands shaking to check if you're okay. he's inwardly very panicked and lowkey not hiding it well. this wasn't in the boyfriend handbook! he's ready to be there for you though, cheering you up with funny anecdotes about him and the boys, doing his best to make you laugh through the pain. he will do anything you need him to during recovery -- just far from blood and anything icky that might come with it.

MINGYU:

lowkey probably the cause of the injury (sorry gyu stans, yk i'm right tho) he apologizes profusely, stating that he is 'just a clumsy big boy' and cannot help that he just has a rougher hand with things. makes it up to you with snacks, cooking and cuddles. allows you to use this incident against him till the end of time, although he gets sulky every time you bring it up.

SEUNGKWAN:

complains that he's got to take care of you but does it lovingly anyways. "i'm doing this cause i love you. you're lucky i love you or i would've left you suffering ages ago." gives you that signature seungkwan side eye if the injury was your fault. chides you to be more careful.

VERNON:

his first instinct is to ease the pain with bad jokes. will ask you if you'd wanted it to happen 'is this the result you wanted, baby?' and will quickly stfu when you glare at him. follows your orders on how to take care of you cause he's lowkey very lost. puts on a movie once everything is done to help you relax and to take your mind off the pain.

DINO:

ya'll 100% were doing something stupid and got injured together. dino has that 'you say jump, i say how high' energy, and you're definitely both in pain because one of you was doing something for jokes and the other joined for fun. takes care of you while complaining about his own pain. is a big baby when its your turn to take care of him. tells you to never bring this up to his hyungs or else he will never hear the end of it.

[beloveds-embrace]

John raises an eyebrow, and without lifting his eyes off his newspaper, he sighs.

"Alright, I'm done. Love, what's on my face?"

Your giggle is a soft, mischievous sound. One he is, (un)fortunately, all too familiar with. For the past hour, all you've done is look between him and your phone in almost regular intervals, laughing quietly to yourself.

"It's nothing serious, honey-"

And yet when he sets the newspaper down to glance at you, you only grin at him. "....Can you do something for me, John honey? It's very easy, I promise!"

John merely narrows his eyes a little, wary yet intrigued; a feeling that has become regular to him ever since you barrelled into his life. "You make me scared, doll-"

"It's harmless, I swear!" You sit up, eyes bright and eager. Waving your phone in your hand, you peer at him. "All you gotta do is give me one of your smiles. See? Very easy, just like I said."

He does as you ask, not at all surprised to hear the click of your camera. The delighted gasp is surprising, though.

John can't stop himself anymore; he leaps on top of you, quickly stealing your phone while you break out into laughter. "Wai- wait, John, honey, no-"

John is grinning, swiping through your phone and photos. First one is the picture you just took of him, smiling, and the one after that...

"You look exactly the same!" You cackle, latching on to John. He is so done with you- in a very exasperated, fond manner "You look exactly like a quokka!"

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DP x DC Nobody Knows AU Part 9

Part 8

“Nothing? At all?”

“Nothing, Red,” Barbara's voice repeats through the speakers of the Batcomputer, sounding irritated at this point.

“But- I mean, did you try-”

“She's going to come to the cave and shove a Batarang up your ass if you ask her one more time whether she missed something, Replacement,” Jason drawls off to the side. He's reclining in a chair, feet kicked up on a weapons table.

Tim groans. “I know, I know. I'm sorry.”

He's back in the Cave, and so is pretty much everyone else. Turns out he'd caused something of a panic, and it was all hands on deck for a hot second.

When the engineer had density shifted out of his grasp and heckled him from some nebulous spot midair, it had taken only a few seconds afterwards for Tim’s comms to explode with noise.

Turns out nobody had been able to hear anything from him except a constant low static from shortly before the encounter until after it ended, and his mask camera was borked the whole time too.

Understandably, there was some alarm about that. Bruce had ordered everyone back to the cave for a full explanation and conversation on what the hell happened.

“Sit down and tell us what happened, baby bird. You're gonna wear a hole in the floor at this rate,” Dick tells him, a gentle hand on his shoulder nudging him towards a seat.

Tim groans and throws himself into it like a puppet with his strings cut.

“Well he's definitely a meta,” he grumbles. “I never actually laid eyes on him. Wouldn't have even known he was there if he hadn't gotten ghost busted.”

“Ghost busted?” Jason asks, eyebrows raised. Tim huffs out a reluctant laugh, because in retrospect that part was pretty funny.

“His fucking phone went off. All of a sudden the empty air next to me was blasting the Ghostbusters theme song and an invisible man was swearing like a sailor until it cut out.”

Stephanie blows a raspberry in the start of a laughing fit, and suddenly the whole cave is echoing with mirth. It lifts Tim's spirits a little, makes him laugh too.

He means, come on. That has to be the new record for the funniest botched stealth mission, a position previously held by Damian when a stray dog outed him because it smelled the treats he keeps in his utility belt.

The shade of red the demon brat's face was when he had to explain why the mission went sideways was fucking glorious.

“So you've confirmed that we're dealing with a male meta?”

Speaking of the brat.

“Sounded male, and he at least has invisibility and density shifting,” Tim confirms.

“Density shifting?” Bruce prompts.

“Yeah. After the phone went off I couldn't see him but I was trying to figure out where he was. Then the lockbox disappeared too - he can transfer the invisibility through touch, apparently.”

“Huh. Haven't seen that before,” Duke comments.

“Me neither. But I made an educated guess at where I thought he was and grabbed his arm. Had a damn good grip, and then he just…went through me. Like I literally felt something pass through my hand all cold and tingly and suddenly I wasn't holding anything anymore.”

Jason snorts. “Bet that was a kick in the nuts, huh.”

“Come on, Little Wing,” Dick scolds half heartedly. “Be nice.”

Jason rolls his eyes.

“You said ‘at least’,” Bruce says, brow furrowed. “You suspect he has other powers too?”

Tim purses his lips. “I can't be sure, considering I couldn't see him, but…I think he probably has flight too.”

“Flight?” Dick says, furrowing his brow. He crosses his arms and shakes his head, looking both thoughtful and troubled. “No, that's not possible.”

Tim blinks. “What? Why not?”

Dick ‘Be Nice, Little Wing’ Grayson looks him dead in the eyes and says, “Because according to all known laws of aviation-”

“You-!”

The cave is filled with laughter again, Jason throwing his head back and cackling in a way that's particularly irksome. Tim reaches over and shoves at his boots while he's tipping his chair back and sends him toppling to the floor.

Jason flails and fails to save himself, rolling back to his feet and spitting curses with a hint of green to his eyes. Tim freezes at the sight of it.

It's not that he's scared. He and Jason have come a long way, and everyone knows by now what amount of green is actually dangerous. Jason's nowhere near actually losing it right now, he's just annoyed.

What makes Tim freeze is-

“He's been exposed to the Pits.”

Everyone pauses, confused. Jason blinks at him. “Uh…yeah, fucking duh?”

“No,” Tim shakes his head. “No, not you. The Engineer.”

Suddenly there's no laughter anymore. Everyone has gone tense and alarmed.

“Tim?” Bruce prompts lowly.

“I did see part of him,” Tim murmurs lowly, realizing it himself for the first time. “When I grabbed him, there were two bright lights for a second or two before they faded. God, I should have realized- it was his eyes. Like Christmas lights, bright Lazarus green."

Masterpost

[soobnny]

one more month — bang chan. established relationship. fluff. chan missing you while he’s on tour. (0.6k words)

“Chan?”

It’s 11pm for you when he calls from his hotel room, somewhere oceans away. There’s still sleep dripping from your tone, and he can almost hear the rustling of sheets from your end.

“Sorry baby, did I wake you?” Chan speaks so quietly it’s almost a whisper. He was careful not to shake you out of your silence.

“Mmm, no.” You croak out.

He knows you’re lying, could almost picture you jolting from your sleep at the familiar buzz of your ringtone. The thought makes him swallow, teeth chewing on his bottom lip.

“Is there a reason why you’re calling?”

He pauses before answering. Chan has no idea how the fuck he’s feeling right now, but he knows he misses you.

It’s been 4 months since he last saw you. All he has are pictures of you in his phone, and occasional phone calls that will never suffice to the way you sound in person. To the way you feel in person.

Chan stares out the big fucking window from where they’re staying, finding comfort in the thought that you might be looking at the same moon.

He swallows again. “Does there have to be a reason?”

“Of course not.”

“Just miss you.” He breathes out slowly, head tilted on the glass windows. “And I wish— we didn’t have to be so far away all the time.”

He’s thinking of you, imagining how you look right now with tired eyes. He’s thinking of what it would be like if he was there right now. You’d probably be asleep, tangled up in each other’s limbs. It would look uncomfortable from an outsider’s eye, but he knows. Knows how it feels to have your heartbeat pressed against his and how nice it feels.

You sigh. “One more month.”

The tone in your voice is gentle, yet knowing. He knows you miss him too.

“For now, you need to sleep, no?”

It’s 3 in the morning for him, and he’ll have to be awake again in three hours.

“Can’t.” He bites his lip, swallowing hard as he tries to fight the sob brewing in his throat. Your heart clenches at the way he sounds, knows that when he feels, he lets it take over him.

“Will you be able to sleep if I stay on the phone?”

“Maybe.” Shaky.

“Okay. Have the kids been treating you well?”

A smile pulls at his lips at the mention of his best friends, and the topic change does a good job at masking the nauseating pain of missing you. A bandaid. A temporary fix.

“Still loud and stubborn, but I wouldn’t want them any other way.”

“Hmmm, I won’t be surprised if you come home with a head of white hair.”

He laughs at the thought, running a hand through his hair. “I think I’m already starting.”

“Then Seungmin calling you an old man is justifiable, then?”

“I don’t think I like you teaming up with the boys against me. You’ve signed up on my team the moment you said yes to being mine.”

You laugh from your end, and Chan’s heart flutters at the sound. He can almost see you with your crescent eyes and the cute scrunch on your nose, the one you do when you cackle.

He tries not to think about it too much. Tries not to picture himself right there with you. He knows it’d only rip the bandaid he’d desperately plastered on himself.

“Not sleepy yet?”

“Just a little.” He admits quietly, a yawn escaping his mouth.

There’s stifling from his end, and you can only assume he’s slipped himself back into the covers of his bed.

You keep telling him stories, no matter how menial, anything to keep him company. You know he just needs to hear your voice, has told you before how simply hearing you comforts him—it’s a calm only you can offer.

Chan breathes in and out slowly.

It’s four in the morning now, and there’s quiet snoring in the background.

“Goodnight Channie. One more month.”

[soonyoungs]

[12:24 pm] - dokyeom

“hello,” he answers your call. his soft greeting is countered with the sound of your small sniffles. “baby,” he asks, voice shrouded in concern “hey, are you crying, what’s wrong” panic begins to set in as he rapid fires question after question only taking a short break to catch his breath. 

you use his pause to your advantage “kyeom,” your voice is small, weaker than he’s ever heard “i’ll be okay, just needed to hear your voice,” you reassure, voice wavering with each passing word “promise m’okay”.

dokyeom knows you well enough to understand that you’re not “okay”, but will talk about it on your terms and when you’re ready. “i’m here,” he’s silent for a while, letting his words sink in “i mean it, whatever you need consider it yours. need me to listen? my ears are yours. want me to come get you? i’m already halfway there. want something for dinner? i’m already in the kitchen,” he pauses before correcting himself “well… i’m already in the kitchen ordering your favorite takeout.” there’s a snort that can be heard through the receiver, no amount of muffling could hide it. dokyeom starts cackling, belly starting to hurt out of pure joy “there you are,” he manages between laughter “feeling a bit better now?” he asks, concern still dripping from his words.

“love you,” you sigh through the phone “i was just having a bad day,” you begin to slowly open up “my anxiety has been awful and all i wanted to do was hold your hand but i can’t just leave work to see you. hearing your voice when you answered the phone just pushed me over the edge,” you admit.

dokyeom hums in understanding. “i see,” you can hear the mischief in his words “i think you coming here to see me is a good enough reason to leave work, yup” he chuckles softly before turning serious “whenever you need me, im here for you, always”

[adrixivy]

Imagine the Avengers have a shared album. It was an album that they all made so they can update on what they’re doing and it was all Peter’s suggestion so the team could bond more. Yet Peter changes it up one day by dumping pics of the Avengers from afar and they’re all looking up, wondering where the fuck is Peter taking the photos from.

Then Peter dumps 0.5 pics of Tony when he was sleeping or Tony simply allowed it because he was tired to say anything and it was the most ridiculously outrageous photos of Tony that Tony is immediately up from his chair in the lab and finding Peter, yelling about him deleting the photos.

Peter only does it when Tony hasn’t eaten a full meal or anything in a day or has not slept at all since he was busy overworking himself. And it always works.

Soon, the shared album that was previously about updates became a place to dump the most ridiculous photos of the Avengers or the shenanigans they do that it would be a PR nightmare for their PR team to manage(SHIELD is definitely their PR team even though Nick Fury is not paid enough for it)

Clint, dumping photos of Bucky and Steve on the couch together: *captioned ‘Look at this lovebirds!’*

Bucky checks his phone and is immediately showing Steve and the two glare at the vent at the left corner of the room where they hear distant giggles as Clint crawls away

Peter sending a photo of Tony and Stephen making out in the kitchen: *captioned ‘EW MR STARK GET A ROOM!’*

Tony pauses and pulls away from Stephen who frowns when he pulls his phone out. Tony gasped in horror and showed the phone to Stephen before spotting his son and immediately charging at him (“Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark, you get your tiny ass here right now!”) Stephen sighs and sends the cloak after his lover and son. Cloak wraps around Peter who screams for mercy and Tony grinned

Bruce sending a picture of Sam drinking a Caprisun: *Captioned ‘Peter I think that’s yours..’*

Peter suddenly appears and tackles Sam, screaming that it was his last one and the man now owns him a box. Sam is screaming back, saying ‘Get Stark to buy that, he has money!’ and the two is fighting till Steve pulls them apart

Natasha sends a photo of Clint surrounded by fire as he burns down their kitchen for the fifth time this month: *captioned ‘Guys he’s at it again’*

Tony immediately presses a button that shoots out foam that extinguishes the fire from the ceiling, covering Natasha and Clint in it. Natasha is fuming and Tony just realised he’s mistake and locked down his lab.

Rhodey sends a picture of Tony partying in his suit during that one party he did when he was dying. Tony is embarrassed of how idiotic he was. Peter is cackling before he’s immediately silenced by a glare from the older man

Tony starts to mess with Steve one day after he finds records of him in the past when he went through his father’s things. Tony sends a photo of Steve pre-super serum that he happened to find and Steve rolls his eyes and groans when Bucky laughs at him, making fun of the blonde (“The dwarf who was like ‘I can do this all day’ with a bleeding nose, HAH!”) The rest of the Avengers laugh, snicker or is genuinely surprised how skinny Steve actually was

Tony uploads a black and white video of Steve in the army in the past, seemingly forming a plan before the camera cuts to Bucky’s photo in a pocket watch as Steve checks the time. He quickly shuts the pocket watch and hides it. Bucky is slightly flustered and Steve is embarrassed. (“Tony where the hell are you getting this!”)

(⬆️Inspired by that one scene in Captain America: The First Avenger!)

I can picture Peter and Wanda sending edits of the Avengers they found on Tiktok to the album or videos they found online of the Avengers epic fails. Since they’re probably the only two who has Tiktok or scroll through social media and definitely wanted the Avengers to see this. Or simply any news that they find hilarious or the Avengers needed to know. Tony joins on the news because Friday always updates him

Wanda sending an edit of Natasha on TikTok: *Captioned ‘Look at this hot momma!’

Natasha is flattered, chuckling as she rewatches the edit and wondering where people got this clips from.

Peter sends a video titled ‘The Avengers Fails!’ which show Tony being thrown back to a signboard, Steve falling from a building with a yell, Thor being thrown back to the hulk which the hulk is angered by and he’s thrown again at a billboard, Wanda tripping over a step, Clint being dragged along in the air at the back of the Quinjet screaming, Bucky’s arm being thrown in Tony’s face, Rhodey and Tony crashing into each other, Stephen accidentally letting out an ancient monster and desperately trying to close it back up and finally Natasha’s gun being slapped away by a giant when she shoots it. The Avengers are immediately embarrassed and Friday plays the video to get their egos in check once a month. Peter has multiple compilations of fails online so he isn’t embarrassed. He believes it’s part of his spidey persona so he embraces it with open arms. The Avengers find it impossible to embarrass him when he’s Spiderman.

Tony sends an online magazine, specifically one page where it’s all about Steve. And his magnificent ‘America’s Ass’. Steve sighs and knows Tony has something to do with the magazine when he actually doesn’t. Bucky secretly downloads the page

[softshuji]

'One second Princess, I just gotta take this.'

Rindou turns from you, gently folding your creased old and tattered mom jeans over his forearm. You wave him off and turn the TV higher as background noise as he moves from the floor of your bedroom to the landing where he leans against the wall, and answers the call, one arm leaning over the doorframe.

You hear his voice then, a little gruff, a little impatient at being disturbed, even if he'll never admit to being so anyway, a low undulating hum over the tv.

'There had better be a good reason you're calling at this time,' he says and it has you smiling, that he reserves all the patience in the world for you and no one else.

And then under it, still somehow reaching your ear even if you pretend it hasn't is sanzu's high and excited voice. 'come on, come out with us, it'll be fun!' and you hide the smile that comes so easily when Rindou pinches the bridge of his nose with an exaggerated and exacerbated sigh.

'Yeah no, can't, not today,' he says, so matter of factly, not the type to mince words at all- a fact that you've learned through experience.

And you almost sense sanzu's face falling, the excited grin dropped as easily as it has come. 'What, why not?'

'Because I don't want to.'

'Even though your brother is going?'

Rindou has a hand on his hip and you giggle behind a folding shirt, at the silhouette of him in matching pajamas, hair thrown into a haphazard ponytail, and sugar still on his lips.

'So? He can keep you company, I'm not interested tonight.'

'Really?' and sanzu pouts and whines on the other side. 'what could be that important?'

Rindou glances at you, engrossed in a TV advert, or pretending to be rather- he knows better- your ice cream melting on the beside drawer, clothes and bin bags scattered around, and heaped in the bedroom corners.

'I'm...' And he flares with heat already. 'I'm helping my girl sort out some old clothes. She's recycling them and asked for my help going through them.' and it's embarrassing to say- and yet not, when he thinks of all the secret kisses he's stolen since you've sat on the carpeted floors, all the jokes and giggles he's pulled from you already tonight.

And then sanzu, dead pan and with a groan of frustration. 'That's what's so important?'

Rindou bites his lip, a far more aggressive retort than 'You had better watch your mouth' dying on his tongue.

And sanzu laughs, a cackle that tells him he's gotten the rise he was looking for. 'Fine, fine, but we're dragging you next time.' and a click as he ends the call.

There's another sigh then as Rindou pockets his phone and comes to sit on the carpet with you again, unfolding the jeans on his forearm.

'Y'know..... Rin, you didn't have to stay,' You say, eyes fixated on the tv as you roll up a pair of socks in your hand, gaze deliberately averted to avoid the naked awe and adoration. 'I could have finished this myself.'

And he rubs his neck, a little embarrassed as he picks up an old t shirt and tosses it into a black bin bag. 'Yeah well....I wanted to.'

'You should have gone, you would have had fun.' and your hand finds his somewhere among the old clothes, fingers now around his palm where you meet the same old loved callouses.

'I am having fun.'

'You are? With me? Even when this is so boring?'

'I am, with you, and it's not boring to me.'

'Sure?'

'I'm sure. And I'm done with the jeans, I can do the shirts now.'

And he hopes you believe it, a small smile that gifts him as a reward when you touch his hand again amidst the old clothes.

[honeyryewhiskey]

... ❝ happy new year!❞

— a hunter's new year's eve party is the last place you wanted to be tonight. but, claire clued you in on a certain someone being here tonight. and, what? you're just supposed to not show up when the elusive dean winchester is making an appearance? warnings!! alcohol use, strong language, it's nye ofc they r kissing, assume reader is a little older than claire so this is less weird idk, 18+ mdni ! 3.8k words

“Claire—no. I told you, I’m not going,” you say with an exaggerated sigh, tucking your phone between your shoulder and chin as you step out of the quiet diner. The cool South Dakota night breeze bites at your skin as you continue, “Hunters are obnoxious drunks—all of them. New Year’s is basically a rite of passage: another year breathing, another excuse to act like a pack of wild animals partying like it’s their last day on Earth.” As you huff a sigh, the cold air turning your breath into a misty cloud that lingers.

Crossing the dimly lit parking lot toward your truck, you hear Claire mutter something under her breath.

It’s quick—but her words make your heart flutter, your hand freezing just as it brushes the door handle.

“What did you just say?”

Through the crackle of the call, you can hear her smug little scoff that instantly makes you want to reach through the phone. You know she’s dramatically rolling her big blue eyes, too

“I said,” she drawls, each word slow and taunting, like a cat playing with a trapped mouse, “The Winchesters are in town—so Dean will be there.”

Dean fucking Winchester. You’d only met him once—years ago, before Claire roped you into becoming her hunting partner. He’d swept in like a storm, leather jacket and all, to save your ass from a nasty shifter, barely breaking a sweat in the process. His gruff charm and cocky smirk had left you reeling, even as he’d muttered something about “maybe hunting isn’t the answer” before disappearing into the night in his impala. But it wasn’t until later, in the dim haze of a small-town bar, when Claire casually dropped the bombshell that the Winchesters were basically her uncles. A few drinks in, your guard slipped, and you drunkenly admitted your stupid crush on the eldest brother. Claire, to her credit, had seemed to let it slide—until now.

“So, what?” you say, forcing out a sheepish laugh as you yank the car door open a little too hard. It bounces back and smacks into your arm. “Ow,” you mutter, scowling at the offending door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” You grit your teeth, cheeks burning. “Look, Claire, I told you I’m not going. The Winchesters don’t change that.”

“Uh-huh,” she replies, dripping with disbelief. “And what if I told you Dean’s already here—at Jodi’s—and he asked about you?”

“He did?” The words are out before you can stop them, your stomach doing an unwelcome little flip. You try to ignore it as you hurriedly shuffle into the driver’s seat. “What was he asking? Wait—what did you say to him?”

“Hah!” Claire cackles, victorious. “You sound like a middle schooler, all flustered over a boy.”

“Oh, Claire,” you shoot back, narrowing your eyes at nothing, “your uncle is so much more than a boy—”

“Ew! Stop it.” Her groan is dramatic enough to make you grin. “Look, if you don’t come, I’ll just tell Dean about your little crush myself.”

“You wouldn’t dare—”

“Hey, Dean! Can you c’mere for a second?”

“Claire Novak!” You practically shout, panic tightening your throat.

Her laughter echoes through the line, wicked and delighted. “God, you’re so easy. Relax—I’m kidding.” There’s a pause. Her voice sounds distant, as she talks to someone on the other side of the phone, “oh—Dean, can you just say something stupid real quick? Need proof of life here.”

“What?” His gruff voice rumbles faintly through the line.

“Perfect.” Claire’s smugness is palpable. “So?”

You let out a groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Fine. Give me a few hours.” 

✧˖*°࿐

The humming engine softens as you creep down the winding drive. Large pine trees part as Jodi’s cabin comes into view. Massive windows, glowing orange against Pactola Lake. The light leaves a pretty reflection against glass-like water, a snow covered lawn twinking in warm hues. But it’s the silky gleam of your headlights shining against the sleek body of an old ‘67 impala that catches your eyes. Dean’s impala.

The burning in your cheeks is hard to ignore as you find a space to park in the tightly packed lot. Old trucks and cars cover every inch, some even parked on the frosty grass. Hunter parties were big, but never this big. A ripple of relief flows through, momentarily easing the goosebumps pricking your skin. More people meant less chances for you to embarrass yourself in front of the Winchesters or Claire, who’d never let you live it down if you did.

Turning the ignition, the engine clicks off with a huff. As if on cue, your phone starts buzzing on the passenger seat. 

You bite down on the corner of your lip, face illuminated by the glow of your cell as the overhead lights fade out. 

Stealing a moment to yourself, you stare out at the quiet of the cars while practicing deep breathing. You’re used to this, you remind yourself. Hunter’s parties are where you spent all of your holidays after the age of eight. Ended up in the wrong place, at the wrong time and found yourself with your own hunter’s origin story. 

At least there was family in this world you live in, a weird, fucked up family of strangers bonded by their shared profession of exterminating walking evil from the world. 

And now, said family was getting plastered on homemade beer and cheap wine a few yards away from where you sat deep breathing in your truck. 

Shoving the creaky truck open, you slip into the night. Claire throws open the front door, a wicked grin plastered over her face. 

“Would you quit dragging your feet and get in here?” Claire hollers, her grin gleaming like she knows exactly how hard your heart is pounding. The faint hum of country music and the murmur of voices spill out through the open doorway behind her, the warmth of the cabin promising a sharp contrast to the frosty night air.

You tug your jacket tighter around yourself, muttering, “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

The cabin’s interior is as cozy and chaotic as you remember from past gatherings. The faint scent of pine mingles with beer and something smoky—someone probably barbecued a big dinner. Hunters are scattered everywhere, laughing, drinking, and sharing stories loud enough to rattle the walls.

You weave your way through the crowd, nodding at familiar faces. There’s Jodi by the makeshift bar, pouring drinks while laughing at something Alex said. Garth waves from his spot near the fire, somehow managing to juggle a beer and a plate piled high with food. And Bobby is leaning against a wall, talking with a hunter you vaguely recognize from a case last year.

Claire bumps into you from behind, snapping you out of your daze. “C’mon,” she sings out, brows jumping with excitement, “drinks are this way.” 

She leads you to the cluster of coolers tucked against the back wall of the kitchen. The noise of the party fades slightly as you step away from the center of the chaos, but the faint hum of music and bursts of laughter still fill the air.

“Here,” Claire nods, flipping open a cooler lid and pulling out a nondescript brown bottle. “You’ll love this. Super organic. Super local.”

“That sounds like a lie,” you say, narrowing your eyes as you take the bottle.

Claire smirks. “Just try it.”

With a small shrug, you twist the cap off and take a cautious sip. The taste hits immediately—bitter and earthy, with an unmistakable homemade tang. You recoil, your nose scrunching as the bottle lowers from your lips.

“Okay, what the hell is that?” you cough, wiping your mouth. “Did someone brew this in a bathtub?”

Claire laughs just as a voice cuts in from behind you, warm and teasing. “That bad, huh?”

You turn to find Dean standing there, beer in hand with an amused smirk on his lips. Your stomach flutters and flips under his gaze, as you remind yourself to just act cool.

You hadn’t even noticed Sam, stepping beside his brother with a polite smile. 

“Guess you’re not cut out for the finer things,” Dean adds, nodding toward the bottle in your hand.

“Oh, is that what this is?” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow. “Because it tastes like someone blended tree bark and regret.”

Sam chuckles, offering his hand. “I’m Sam, this is my brother, Dean. You’re Claire’s friend right? She’s told us a lot about you.”

You take his hand with a polite smile. “Yeah, she’s told me plenty about you guys, too. Nice to finally meet you, Sam. But Your brother and I met once, a while ago now.”

Sam quirks a brow at your words, hazel eyes cutting between you and Dean as if he’s trying to read between the lines of exactly what kind of meeting that may have been.

Before he can get a chance to ask, Claire clears her throat loudly, cutting into the exchange. “Oh, Sam, didn’t you want to see that thing? Over there?” Her finger points vaguely at the living room, deep blue irises the size of saucers as she tries to give him a look of let’s go—now.

Sam blinks, confused as he turns towards her. “What thing?”

Rolling her eyes, she grabs his arm, already dragging him away. “You know—the thing Jodi was talking about. Let’s go.”

“Wait—what thing?” Sam protests, his long limbs stumbling as she pulls him into the crowd, leaving you and Dean standing awkwardly by the coolers.

Dean watches them disappear, his eyebrows furrowed. “She’s acting weird.”

You let out a sheepish laugh, looking down at the bottle in your hand. “Claire? No,” you wave your hand vaguely, desperate to put out the spark of suspicion brewing in his jade eyes, “She’s... always like that.”

Dean gives you a skeptical look but doesn’t push. “So,” he sighs, leaning casually against the counter, “how’s life as Claire’s partner-in-crime? She ever let you get a word in?” His curiosity completely fizzled, eyes trained on you with a small smile. 

You grin up at him, trying your damn hardest not to smile too much at a simple question. “Occasionally. When she’s asleep.”

“That sounds about right,” he chuckles, that smile falling into a smirk. “Bet she’s got you running all over the place, huh?”

“Pretty much. Although to be fair, I do my fair share of dragging her into messes.”

“Let me guess,” Dean starts, his husky voice making goosebumps tent across your skin. “You’re the responsible one. The voice of reason.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t go that far. It’s more like... I’m the one making sure she doesn’t jump into a werewolf den without backup.”

“Good luck with that,” he quips, rolling his eyes. “She’s stubborn as hell. Runs in the family.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” you reply, smirking back at him.

Dean’s eyes narrow playfully. “Was that a shot at me?”

“Maybe,” you say, taking another swig of the beer and grimacing again. “God, this is terrible.”

Dean chuckles, reaching over to take the bottle from you. “Here, let me save you from yourself.” He sets it on the cooler and hands you one of the labeled beers from the next cooler over. “Try this instead. It won’t kill you.”

You take it, your fingers brushing his briefly. “Thanks. I was starting to think you were going to let me suffer.”

“Nah,” he says, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “Not my style.”

Bobby’s clapping as he strides into the kitchen catches everyone’s attention. “You two—garage, now,” he orders, motioning toward the garage door. A small crowd trails behind him as he crosses the room.

Dean flashes you a quick grin, raising a brow. You exchange a knowing look before following the group. Claire brushes past, grabbing your arm with a playful smile as she glances between you and Dean.

Jodi stood at the makeshift table in the garage, lining up red Solo cups with the precision of someone who’d once been a drill sergeant in another life. “Alright, listen up!” she called, gesturing toward the group. “We’re playing flip cup—two teams, four players each. No whining, no excuses, and definitely no cheating.” She pointed at Dean with a sharp look.

Dean raises his hands in mock surrender, all feigned innocence. “What? I’m offended you’d even suggest that, Jodi.”

Donna, practically bouncing with excitement, chimes in, “Relax, Sheriff. Dean’s too cocky to cheat. He thinks he’s already won.”

Standing next to Sam, you smirk. “That’s because he hasn’t gone up against us yet. His ego’s about to take a hit.”

Dean’s gaze snaps to yours, his eyebrows lifting with a teasing smile. “Big words, sweetheart. Let’s see if you can back ’em up.”

Jodi claps her hands again, “Alright, teams are set! Over here—Dean, Alex, Sam, and Bobby. Over there—Me, Donna, Claire and you.” she finishes, pointing at you with a wink. “Dean, I reckon I’ve got your match here with this one.” 

A deep laugh rolls out of Dean as he leans casually against the workbench, “Uh, huh, you say that now, Jodi. But you’re gonna be singin’ a different tune when this is over.”

The game kicks off with an eruption of cheers as everyone falls into line behind the first match: you and Alex. She knocks back her first drink with ease, but her flip wobbles, giving you enough time to swiftly take the first win. 

“Yes!” you shriek, hands going up in the air, “first blood!” 

“That’s my girl!” Claire giggles from the line. 

Dean, watching with his arms crossed, meets your eyes with a smirk, “Alright, alright, girls. Don’t get too cocky yet.”

Sam and Donna face off next. To your surprise, Donna keeps pace with Sam, matching his speed as she downs her drink. Just as Sam moves to flip his cup, Donna’s lands upright on the first try with flawless precision.

“Yes!” Donna shouts, throwing her arms up in victory. The garage erupts into cheers from her team, while yours lets out a collective groan.

Sam stares at his still-tipping cup, dumbfounded. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters.

Donna grins, clapping him on the back. “Sorry, Sammy, but the Midwest don’t mess around.”

They fall back from the table, Sam with his head hanging low as Dean’s laughter booms over everyone else's. 

Claire steps up with confidence, “You’re going down, old man!” she teases as she stares down Dean from across the table. Her expression is smug, completely locked into her competitive nature. They move simultaneously, Claire finishing her cup seconds before Dean. 

“C’mon,” she yells, wiping her mouth hastily as she attempts her first flip. It doesn’t land, earning a smug chuckle from Dean as he casually sets his cup down onto the table. 

Grinning at her lazily, “Patience, kiddo.” With an annoying lack of effort, he nails his first flip. A noisy chaos ensues around you. 

“That’s how it’s done.” he gloats, head tilting to throw you a quick wink.

With narrow eyes, you shoot back at him, “Don’t get too comfortable, Winchester.” 

The game heated up as Jodi and Bobby began the final round, a rambunctious chant of “chug, chug, chug,” filled the air. Jodi drinks too fast, falling into a coughing fit as Bobby takes advantage of the moment and flips his cup a few times, cursing, until he’s taking the round for the win. 

The opposite team cheers as Jodi regains her composure, “Hang on a damn minute,” she laughs, clearing her throat, “we’ve got a tie. Two and two for wins, who’s gonna be the tie breakers?”

Everyone looks around at each other for a moment, until Dean’s clearing his throat, stepping up to the table. He points at you without looking up from the cup he’s filling with beer. “You and me, baby. Let’s go.” 

The room quieted slightly as everyone leaned in, the tension palpable.

Dean smirks, “You ready for this?”

You return his look, eyes sparkling, “Born ready.”

You both drink at lighting speed, slamming cups down almost simultaneously. Dean flips first, but it topples over and skids across the table. “Damnnit!” he shouts. 

You try yours, the cup slipping on the table that has become a mess of puddles from the previous rounds. Bitting your lip you try again, your finger curling into the cup just as Dean breaks your focus with a throat holler.  

You look up to see his cup, perfectly upright on the table. 

His fists are pumping the air, basking in the glory. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you don’t mess with the master.”

Donna and Alex high-fived him as Jodi shook her head with a rueful smile.

Claire, groaning loudly, threw a hand over her face. “Ugh, I’m never gonna hear the end of this.”

With your hands on her hips, a raised eyebrow. “Alright, Winchester. You won. No need to act like you just saved the world.”

Dean stepped closer, his grin growing wider. “Oh, it’s not just about winning. It’s about proving a point.”

Crossing your arms, head tilting. “And what point is that?”

Dean, leaning in slightly, lowered his voice just enough to make your heart skip. “That I’m better at everything.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Dean, straightening up, gave you a wink. “You’ll thank me for the lesson someday.”

Sam, rolling his eyes, walked by and clapped Dean on the shoulder. “You’re the worst winner.”

Dean grinned at his brother. “And proud of it, Sammy.”

The garage was still buzzing with energy as everyone started migrating toward the house, laughing and recounting moments from the flip cup game. Jodi herded people inside, saying something about grabbing coats before heading out for the fireworks.

You linger near the door, talking to Sam and Claire about Dean’s relentless gloating, when you feel the faintest brush of warm air against your ear.

“Hey.”

Dean’s closeness startles you, his lips just barely brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks.

“I’ve got a better spot to watch the fireworks,” he murmurs, his voice low enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Blinking at him, your heart stumbles over itself. “Yeah? What makes it better?”

Dean leans in a little closer, glancing around to make sure no one else is listening. “Well, for one, it’s not packed with a bunch of loudmouths.” He nods toward the others, who are noisily debating something in the living room. “Second, it’s got the best view of the lake. Was gonna keep it to myself, but…” His brows raise, teasing. “Figured I owed you after absolutely destroying you in flip cup.”

You bite your cheek to hide a smile. “Oh, how generous of you.”

Dean leans back with a shrug, his hands sliding into his pockets. “What can I say? I’m a man of honor.”

“Sure you are,” you tease back, feeling a mix of amusement and nerves swirl in your chest.

Without waiting for a full reply, Dean jerks his head toward the back stairs. “C’mon. You in?”

You hesitate only for a moment, the pull of his green eyes leaving no room for argument. With a nod, you agree. “Lead the way.”

Following Dean up the stairs, the noise of the party fades into a muffled hum. Stepping into a bedroom, you notice the open duffel bag tossed on the bed, a scattered mess of flannels and dark t-shirts on the floor.

Oh. You’re in his room.

Unaware of the way your heart is beating like a hummingbird’s wings, Dean grabs a flannel blanket from the chair in the corner before crossing to the window.

“Wait,” you start, watching as he unlocks it and slides it open. “We’re going out the window?”

Dean glances over his shoulder, his grin casual as ever. “What, you scared of a little height? Thought you were more adventurous than that.”

“I’m plenty adventurous,” you shoot back, hands on your hips. “Just wasn’t expecting an escape route.”

“Well, buckle up, sweetheart.” He climbs through the window with practiced ease, balancing the blanket over his shoulder. “It’s worth it, trust me.”

You follow him, carefully stepping onto the gently sloped roof. The cool night air hits your cheeks, and the chatter of the group below mixes with faint music drifting from the cabin.

Dean spreads the blanket out on a flat portion of the roof, then turns to offer a hand. “Your throne awaits, milady.”

You laugh softly, taking his hand and sitting down next to him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it,” he quips, settling beside you.

It’s the perfect vantage point—an unobstructed view of the lake where the fireworks will light up the sky. Down on the lawn, the others gather, laughing and occasionally tripping over each other as a few of the guys set up the fireworks.

You laugh, pointing out one hunter chasing another with a lit sparkler. “This feels like a disaster waiting to happen.”

Dean chuckles. “Hunters: professional monster killers, amateur party planners.”

The fireworks begin, bursting over the lake in brilliant colors that reflect off the water. The two of you fall into a companionable silence, the booms and crackles filling the air.

Someone from the ground shouts into the night, “It’s almost time!”

Within seconds, your mind is racing, thinking about how much fun this entire night has been. How you’re not even sure when—or if—you’ll see the elusive Dean Winchester again. Maybe it’s the buzz from chugging beer during flip cup, or maybe it’s the way he makes you feel safe, even in silence, that gives you the courage to speak.

“Confession,” you blurt out, biting your lip. Just as you get the word out, the crowd below begins the countdown.

ten… nine…

“Hm?” he grumbles, brows knitting as jade eyes give your face a once-over.

eight… seven…

“I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.”

six… five…

Your heart is definitely going to burst out of your chest, that much you’re sure of.

four… three…

Dean lets out a quiet, raspy laugh.

two…

His eyes roam over your face, soft and searching.

one…

The fireworks crackle into the night, but all you can focus on is Dean’s warm hands against your flushed cheeks. He pulls you in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that steals the air from your lungs.

The world around you falls away—the cracking in the sky, the cheers from below, the chill of the night. All that matters is the way Dean’s kiss lingers, unhurried, sweet, and just a little daring.

He pulls back first, with a smile big enough to show off the dimples in his cheeks. “Guess that counts as your first New Year’s kiss. Gotta say, you’re setting the bar pretty high.”

You laugh, trying to play it cool even as your heart races. “High? That was barely a six out of ten.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. “A six, huh? Alright, guess I’ve got all year to work on it.”

Your cheeks flush, but you roll your eyes. “You better bring your A-game next time, Winchester.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch again. “You ain’t seen anything yet.”

happy new year babiesss, i'm sorry if this is ass i just wanted to write reader with best friend claire and the warm fuzzy feeling of being at a hunter's party. and if the teams didn't actually tie. dont look at me i rewrote that like 5 fucking times bc i can't figure out how to tie it but i think i did idk idk idk

if ur reading this far, this post is scheduled as i am currently bartending at the clerb to about 1,000 drunk ppl pray for me lol 🫶🏽

[axeoverblade]

THIS WITH MILES AND RIO OMG

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8e2jNJ6/

Can she come over?

Miles(s) Morales x fem! Reader

Synopsis! After seeing a Tiktok on your for you page, you persuaded your boyfriend to do it with you.

MASTERLIST

Genre: Fluff, pre established relationship, slight age up so it makes sense that they’re in a car

Warnings: none!

Word count: .8k

Authors comment: This was so cute and fun to write, hopefully this was what you were asking. Didn’t know which Miles you wanted so suprise it’s both! Small blurbs. Enjoy <3

Do not copy! All rights reserved to ©axeoverblade

EARTH 1610!MILES

“Baby no I’m not doing that!” Miles whined. “Cmon!! It’s just a little jokey-joke!” You lightly pushed his shoulder, trying to persuade him for the umpteenth time. He looked at you and sighed, finally caving in, “you're so lucky I love you”. Giggling, you urged him to call his mom quicker, setting up your camera on the dashboard of the car to record.

“I’m blaming this on you” he said, phone ringing as he looked at you. “I’m willing to accept the consequences” you smiled.

“Yes hijo?” His mother said, you smiled wider, covering your mouth with your hand. “Hola mami” “Do u need something? Oh! Can you tell y/n she left her pajamas so I washed em’ for her.” “oh uh,” he looked at you, “I’m not with her, when I see her I’ll say something. What are you doing right now?” “Mmm nothing worth talking about, por que? Is something wrong?” She asked, becoming more concerned towards the end of her sentence. “Nah nothin’s wrong” Miles paused, “can I bring a girl over?” He winced, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “Que? I thought you said you weren’t with y/n? You don’t have to ask to bring her over anymore-” “uh actually it’s not her”

The phone went silent, “….eh?”, you stifled a laugh, looking at miles who was holding in a laugh himself. “It’s not her mami, ‘s another girl.” “So, what I’m hearing is,” she paused, taking a moment to process, “you want some random girl over that’s not y/n? Why?” “Oh well you know, I’m hanging out with her right now and she wants to come over” “does y/n know about this?” “Uhm nah, this girl is kinda..” Miles trailed off, insinuating he was hiding her from you. “Miles te lo juro que te asesinaré con mis propias manos.” you couldn’t hold it in anymore, throwing your head back as you cackled. Miles' eyes widened at your break of character as he laughed too, quickly muting himself, “You think this is funny Miles? Was that her laughing?” Rio yelled quickly, had you not been used to her voice you wouldn’t have understood what she said with how fast the words left her mouth. Miles unmuted himself, knowing if he didn’t stop the prank now he would get in serious trouble. “Cálmate mami, we’re kidding it’s a joke!”

“Hi Mrs.Morales!” You choked out through a laugh. “Ay-Y/n is that you?” “Yes ma’am” you giggled. Rio mumbled something under her breath, “you two play too much. I’ll see you both for dinner, don't be late.” With that she hung up. You looked at Miles who was shaking his head at you, “mi princesa, you’re gonna get me killed.” You giggled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, grabbing your phone off the dashboard and stopping the recording, “maybe thats my goal.”.

•

EARTH 42!MILES

“Baby Im not doing it, do you know how pissed she’s gonna be?” He looked at you skeptically. You set up your camera on the dashboard, pressing record. “Cmon querido it’s for memories” he sighed looking at your pleading expression. He rolled his eyes, “you owe me” you smiled wide, happy he finally agreed after a hefty amount of convincing. He dialed his mother, staring at you while it rang.

“Yes Hijo?” Ríos voice spoke through the phone speaker. “Hola mama, whatchu’ doin’?” “Uhm I’m on a five minutó break at the hospital, por que?” “Uhh nothin much, so I’m wit’ a girl n’ she wants to come over to the house, I was just letting you know-” “eh? Where's y/n? Is she already there or something?” You smiled. “Uh nah, just me n’ the girl.” “…Dónde está y/n?” “Uh” he looked at you for a split second, “I don’t know.” “Does she know this girl is coming over?” “Nah and I’m keeping it that way” Miles said, hinting something was going on with this mystery girl. “Miles, tu traes esa nena a casa y te lo juro.", you covered your mouth holding in a laugh, looking at Miles. He shook his head, “well I mean she’s kinda already with me,” “Is her name y/n” “que? no i just said it’s not y/n-” “then she can’t come over. I see you with another girl near our property and it’s not ending well for either of you, comprende?” You couldn’t hold it in any longer, letting out the laugh you had been keeping.

“Ella se acaba de reír de? Miles Morales-" “Mama we kid’, y/n is wit’ me. it’s a joke” he quickly cut her off before she could begin her rant. “Sorry Mrs.Morales” you said through a fit of giggles. “Cariño don’t do that, you had me worried.” She spoke to you through the phone.“Sorry mama” you replied using the nickname developed for Rio throughout your relationship with Miles. She clicked her teeth, “I’m gonna tell your ma on you little girl, eres malo.”. You let out a small laugh and apologized, saying your goodbyes so she could get back to work. You grabbed your phone off the dashboard stopping the recording, giving Miles a quick kiss on the cheek. “So about what you owe me” he said looking at you suggestively. You laughed, “you’re gross”

©axeoverblade