Tumgik
#girls after they watch fight club:
bruciemilf · 2 months
Text
It’s been exactly fifteen years, two days, 4 minutes, and 33.5 seconds since the Wayne murder. Bruce can feel time crawling under his skin, like filth under fingernail, like it’s a breathing, screaming thing.
It’s an endless, infinite supply. And yet, he feels like he’s running out of it.
The details are carved deep; Alfred’s cologne lingering on both his mother’s Stefano Cabbana fur coat, Snow White and fluffy, and his father’s sharp-looking leather jacket.
The gunsmoke. The pearls bleeding on the pavement.
“Your mother wore Armani, actually.”
The Waynes are known to cheat Death, but this is getting ridiculous.
“You’re not here.”
The Riddler, — Edward. His name is Edward Nashton, 29-years-old, forsenic accountant, Bruce’s former classmate at Gotham University.
He’s just a man, not a monster, — gasps, wide eyes confused, “Who are you talking to?”
Thomas watches Bruce’s, — Batman’s hands tighten around the swamp green jacket with mildly tamed amusement. Almost like Bruce is an infant again, shaking on his first steps.
“Pretty sure I am, chum. Also, you might wanna move Eddie here to a coffee table. That shit looks sturdy. YOU were made on one, I think,—“
He cringes, but does as he’s told. Edward’s coffee screeches when Batman slams him across it like loose change, “I’d rather not think about that.”
“Honey, it’s a very romantic story, and I resent Alfred for not talking to you about it. Now go grab a drill and some duct tape. Oh, don’t make that face, — His adrenaline levels are higher than a fucking drop head.”
Bruce doesn’t want to do it. Something just compels him to. Thomas scoffs but Bruce is too focused on the drill biting through bone to notice. Edward doesn’t feel any pain. He’s just under the illusion of it, which seems much crueler.
“You would’ve KNOWN that if you stayed in school. “
“Why are you here?”
“Now that,” His father’s smile is a serpentine, alluring and full thoothed and stained with Maverick cigarettes. His hair is slicked, crowned by red lensed sunglasses.
He looked for a dead man. “Is a smart guy question.”
He doesn’t sleep. He can’t.
“Your father was a hundred different things, “ Alfred sighs at him, stitching up his wounds in a tight, secure pattern. Thomas’. The ghost of the hour. “And I never understood any of them.”
Bruce is about to ask more, expand a stream of curiosity, when footsteps bang against the cave’s massive interior.
He knows each child by foot, by volume, by rhythm.
He’d know Jason dead or alive.
He’s about to greet him, choosing to ignore his father’s ghost flirting with an unsuspecting Alfred, when his baby bird beats him to it.
“Why the fuck is your dead mom following me?”
590 notes · View notes
Text
various updates and facts about my family
my mother huffed raid bug spray and ate wallpaper paste as a child. my grandfather believes my autistic sibling is an alien and is asking him to provide the winning lottery numbers. my sister tried to kill her boyfriend recently.
My dad is getting married to his seventh wife.
And my little brother (J) is smelting pawn shop jewelry in efforts to make silver bullets to load in .22 casings
My grandfather swears he was abducted by aliens and they modified his cum.
In 2009, he attempted to trade firearms for an alleged crystal skull which he believed contained the blueprints to rebuild Atlantis.
In 2012, my family created a convey of six cars all loaded with guns, ammo, canned food, etc. in order to prepare for the apocalypse. In December of 2012, my grandfather led us to where he believed our family would hold off the forces of evil, a last bastion for our bloodline- A fucking Super8 motel in Forsyth GA.
My mother used to drink blood in the 90s and beat the shit out of football players as a hobby, so she could beef up for roller derby. She raises baby animals, and has more than once attempted to kill a man during intimacy.
All if my dad's ex wives have tried to kill him. He's had attack dogs sicced on him, beaten with a crowbar, chased with a hammer, run over with his own car, and pushed out a vehicle. His new wife was a pen pal he met when she was in jail.
My aunt believes she convenes with the angels when she's hopped up on ambien and percocet, so she's like the goth version of Mama Murphy from Fallout 4.
I was conceived in a crack den in North Carolina. My mother's organs don't like having kids, so much so that both me and my sibling (J) were born dead and had to be resuscitated. In both cases it was due to the umbilical cord playing a game of Hangman.
My little brother (J) taught Igor, our Vulture, to vomit on command. Nobody knows how.
He has been using the infestation of rats at my family's cabin to do... something. He's been running a rat cannibalism fight club, in an attempt to fish out a Super Rat which he plans to do... Something with?
My little brother (M) spends his spare time firing at passing cars. We have managed to make sure he's using BB guns, is the compromise. (J) went through a similar phase when he was an early teen, and would shoot a bow and arrow at the neighbor's house. I did the same with a potato cannon in my youth. It's a tradition.
My dad is missing his appendix. He has no idea where it went and has no record of it ever being removed.
My grandmother reluctantly admitted to having an affair with a ghost in her 40s.
My brother (M) used to love botany. By the age of 6 he could tell you anything you wanted to know about the flora of southeast GA. He had a garden. And he also grew weed for my step-dad until my mom found out. After that he was banned from gardening and picked up junior robotics as a hobby after i gave him K'nex and some Lego Mindstorms stuff years ago. He took apart an air conditioner in a motel once. To this day we don't know what he did with the screws. He builds airsoft guns from scrap and is a mechanical prodigy. He is almost illiterate.
My brother (A) disturbs me. He was raised by the internet and YouTube. He is whatever this new generation is personified. He's frighteningly... Normal.
I am waiting for the shoe to drop and for him to reveal some darkness to him never before seen in my family.
He's just. A normal kid. A little zoomer that watches Mr. Beast and YouTube long plays. He's also the straight man to most of all my family's bullshit. He's dangerously genre savvy. He also has a weird interest in law???
My sister (H) is your average country girl. She's attempted to kill more than one of her boyfriends (will clarify that they were abusive), has totaled three cars and always walks away from these nightmarish accidents unscathed. She was found on the side of the road last year hitting her vape and flagging down a car, while her own was stuck five feet above a ditch in a tree.
She has a job and plans to go to New York to "see what them city twinks got goin' on"
My other little sister (C) is the only other queer member of my sibling roster. She's a lesbian, and enjoys shooting things. Sometimes living things. She, like (A), is dangerously genre savvy and doesn't play into my family's religious fanaticism. She wants to be a firefighter because she is also a pyromaniac and wants an excuse to see "big things burn".
A bit more about (J)- He claims to speak to the dead, and has used this to become my grandfather's right hand man, and the beneficiary of his estate. He is an autodidact, self taught with blacksmithing and metalworking. He dresses well, and also has a hidden laboratory in my grandfather's shed where he has taken a fixation in herbal tinctures and remedies. He knows they're bullshit. But my family buys his potions, and he uses the money to buy pawn shop jewelry and scrap metal to build stuff. He believes firmly in werewolves, and is convinced Furries are a psyop to prepare the general public for their emergence in society. Which is why he's making silver bullets.
I wish to stipulate that not a single word of this is a joke. This is on god, IRL bullshit I have to contend with.
I should probably update this to remove real names what the fuck
3K notes · View notes
subbypeterparker · 6 months
Text
loser!hazel smut headcannons
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
she’s so pathetic, i need her. loser girlfriend 🫶
Tumblr media
➢ loser!hazel who gets flushed when you’re wearing short skirts/dresses/shorts, and low cut shirts. she knows she shouldn’t find your bare skin so attractive, but being able to see the flesh of your tits, and the curve of your ass just makes her go crazy
➢ loser!hazel who just about dies when you compliment her outfits and play with her jewelry, twisting that silver chain around your finger, slowly pulling her closer to you (she’s so oblivious to everything, she doesn’t even understand you’re trying to jump her bones)
➢ loser!hazel who gets flustered when you look at her, especially when your voice lowers to speak to her. the bat of your eyelashes, the way you lick your lips, the way you look like you’re going to eat her…
➢ loser!hazel who feels her brain go numb when she sees you during the fight club, chest panting from exhaustion, and lips bloody from the punches you’ve been taking (hey we’ve all been into someone covered in blood)
➢ loser!hazel who couldn’t help herself from getting wet when she had you pinned under her during the fight club’s meeting, and hearing all the little gasps and grunts you let out, wondering how you’d sound if maybe you were underneath her for a different reason
➢ loser!hazel who gets so horny around you, she can’t keep her brain under control when images flash in her mind. you bent over while she grips your hips and pounds into you, her being pulled by her hair to look at herself in the mirror while you’re pounding into her, how pretty you’d look with her head between your legs…
➢ loser!hazel who remains oblivious to how hot you find her, until one night you’re at her place, watching a movie, not missing the way her eyes stay trained on your lips when you speak to her. all of a sudden you’re pushing into her lips with yours, and it gets very handsy from then
➢ loser!hazel who doesn’t know what to do, and lets you take control, putting her hands directly where you want them, and letting her feel your body any way she needs
➢ loser!hazel who whines when you finally fuck her, and take off your bra to do so. something about your tits hanging in front of her face is so…😮‍💨
➢ loser!hazel who can’t help the desperate little noises she makes when your pussy touches hers, and she’s whining and begging for you to go harder
➢ loser!hazel who can’t believe someone as hot as you actually wants to have sex with her, and feels almost insecure, until your head buries itself into her neck, and you’re letting out so many breathless praises at her while struggling not to orgasm before her
➢ loser!hazel who has the biggest praise kink known to man. she can’t help but writhe when you tell her what a good girl she is, how well she’s taking you, how good her pussy and mouth are, how skilled her fingers are…she could get drunk off you praises
➢ loser!hazel who can’t get enough of you the first time you two fucked. she gets so needy in public, and this time around, real images flash through her mind. she can’t help but feel herself getting wet in the middle of class when she remembers how soft your thighs felt, especially around her head, how you looked at her with so much love when she was nervous, how pretty your moans sounded, and of course all the filthy praises you whispered in her ear
➢ loser!hazel who feels so lucky whenever she realizes you chose her out of anyone you could have wanted, and always tries to make you feel so good when she gets to fuck you (no matter how many times you tell you you wouldn’t ever pick anyone else, and that she’s the one for you)
➢ loser!hazel who gets very jealous when she sees someone flirting with you. she’ll go up to you and put her arm around you, kissing you before quietly standing there with a dopey smile until the person leaves, realizing you’re with her. you think it’s funny when she gets jealous, but you find it especially funny when she’s eager to go home after that, begging you softly to show her who she belongs to
➢ loser!hazel who doesn’t have the best stamina, and falls asleep not long after orgasming (always makes sure you do too, she’s such a giver), pressing soft kisses on your neck while you praise her, before dozing off, soft snores falling from her perfect lips
2K notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months
Text
cherry
Tumblr media
words: 2.5k
warnings: 18+ only! smut, stripper!reader, prostitution, protected blowjob, protected p in v sex
“that hot guy is back again.” sugar says, pulling back the curtain just an inch, pointing into the crowd.
“ugh, he is so fine.” you whine. “we never get hot guys in here.” it’s your number one problem with your new strip club, in a much different area than your last, therefore attracting a far different crowd, mainly, an older one.
“girl, i know. everyone wants to take him into the back.” sugar raises his eyebrows, knowing you share her proclivity for taking clients into the back rooms to get an personal “dance.”
“it’s gonna be a fight for who he picks.” you giggle, quickly closing the curtain when the strip club house mom walks into the backstage area.
“i know i’m going right to him when lapdances start, but so is every other girl.” sugar says, adjusting the bra she’s wearing.
“if he stays, remember he left after the shows last time.” you point out. he stayed for all the girls to do their solo shows, but by the time lapdances and duos and trios came out, he was gone.
“good point, cherry.” sugar nods, using your stripper name, which is always a bit of a shock when its the girls doing it, but you learned quickly here that its a sign of respect to keep your real name out of the workplace at this club, so you quickly adapted to only using stripper names.
“alright girls, music is starting!” the house mom shouts out. you are later on in the set, so you head back to your station and adjust your costume for the night, a cherry red number to fit your name, matching your nail polish and lipstick. 
you wait until its your turn to go on, hearing the music play and waiting for the right beat to walk out, the club letting out a cheer as you strut onto the stage. the routine is an old one that you’ve done a million times, and your body easily works through the motions, running almost on autopilot, giving you time to look into the crowd, gauge the reactions, including the handsome guy everyone wants sitting forward, eyes intense.
you are out of breath and completely naked except for your heels as you walk back behind the curtain, pushing your hair back that got caught in your face.
“girl, shut the fuck up! hottie was totally into you!” lola says, her voice sounding excited, despite a couple of the other girls giving you a jealous look.
you pull your next lingerie set, the one you liked for lap dances as you shrug. you noticed that he was paying very close attention to your dancing, but you didn’t know that he wasn’t giving everyone else the exact same heated look.
“i think its only fair we let cherry at him first.” sugar suggests, and there’s a smattering of agreement from the other girls, which is enough to set it as a rule, you get to approach the attractive man before anyone else could take their shot.
it makes you excited for the individual sets to end as you make sure to touch up your lipstick and blot any sweat and oils from your forehead. you saunter out as soon as you are allowed, the last stripper still making her way off the stage.
your eyes immediately set sight on your target. “hello there, handsome.” you purr, watching as the handsome mans eyes slowly drag up your body. “can i interest you in a dance?” he smiles, a closed mouth smirk that conveys powerful confidence. he doesn’t even use his words, simply pulls a bill out of his pocket. you smile with all your teeth back at him, knowing they’re framed by your bright red lips as you tug at the waistband of your lacy panties, letting him slip the folded bill against your skin, fingers briefly brushing against your hip.
you turn around as the man sits back in his chair. you place your hands on either side of the arm, giving yourself some support as you lower your ass over his crotch, hovering and moving side to side, teasing before you finally press down, letting your ass roll over his crotch and thighs.
“you like that?” you ask with a smirk, but the man know he doesn’t need to answer, not when you can certainly feel his excitement growing in his pants.
you continue your lap dance for longer than usual, even parting your thighs slightly to give yourself some pleasure as well, hoping its not too noticeable for anyone watching, and you’re sure some of the other girls are staring in anger as they have to give lap dance to old drunk men.
you rise up before turning back to the man. “would you like another dance? a private one in the back?”
he nods, standing up to follow you as you lead him into the back hallway with various doors, cracked if they’re empty, and locked shut to indicate someone else had already been taken back. officially, your club is a stripclub, but its an unspoken rule that lapdance time also meant that dancer could take clients back for anything they wanted to do in private, and that money would stay solely with the dancers, not needing to give the bouncers or bartenders a percentage. 
“whats your name, handsome?” you ask, gesturing him into one of the empty rooms, the lights already low, red velvet couches pushed up on either side of the wall with a small table in the center. the room is small, but plenty of space for just the two of you.
“rafe.” he answers with a smirk, hand coming to your waist, touching the bare skin there. “and money is no object so whatever we do, don’t worry, i can afford it.” he pulls a bill out his pocket to prove it, tucking it again into your panties.
“hot and rich, i like that.” you hum.
“is there anything thats not allowed?” rafe asks, fingers rubbing over your sides, clearly excited to get started.
“wear a condom. no hitting or leaving any sort of marks on my body. any hard kinks, you need to tell me beforehand.” you explain quickly, having gone over the spiel with other customers before.
“just wanna fuck you.” rafe smirks, his voice deep and alluring, making you for once feel yourself getting excited about sleeping with one of the clients.
“why don’t you sit down then?” you gesture to the couch. rafe sits down with the same smirk on his face, his arms resting on the back of the couch as you begin to dance, able to hear the music from the main lounge of the club, using it as your tempo as you move your body, slowly taking off your lingerie under rafes watchful eye.
you get yourself completely naked, all while rafe watches you with that same look on his face, clearly growing in his pants, his cock pushing against the zipper.
you kneel down between his legs, tossing your hair to the side while you rub over his cock before undoing the button teasingly slow, followed by his zipper. “so big.” you coo. it’s usually what you say to make your average sized customers feel better, but for once you mean it with rafe.
“gonna suck me, cherry?” rafe asks, your eyebrows raising slightly when you realize that he remembered your name from when it was announced on stage before your set. “get that pretty red lipstick all over my cock?”
you tug his pants down in response, taking his underwear down with it as you watch his cock spring free, already hard and pulsing with need.
“gotta put a condom on for oral too.” you remember suddenly, having gotten so excited you almost started sucking him without it.
“aw, come on, i promise i’m clean.” rafe says, his voice so sickly sweet you hesitate, but remember the horror stories of other strippers getting stds from breaking rules.
“sorry handsome.” you shake your head, grabbing a condom out of the bowl on the table before sliding it over his cock. you make up for the condom quickly by sinking your lips over his dick, the red lipstick transfering onto the condom instead as you suck.
“oh, thats good.” rafe moans, leaning back against the couch as you bob your head, his hands moving to your hair.
you work your tongue against his cock as you suck, pulling out all the skills that you’ve learned in your years of working in clubs. you resist the urge to smirk as rafe moans loudly, not afraid to have his noises of pleasure heard.
you nuzzle yourself against rafes abs as his cock slides down your throat, swallowing repeatedly to not gag as you deepthroat him. you go to pull off when rafe pushes you back down, his hips lifting to keep your lips pressed against his pelvis.
you flutter your eyes closed and breathe for your nose as rafe pumps forward, lifting his hips off the couch to fuck his cock down your throat. you hum, creating vibrations around his dick while rafe grips your hair, tugging you down to meet his thrusts.
you are about to tap out, needing to take a real breath when rafes cock throbs in your mouth and pulls you off, your scalp burning slightly from rafe using your hair to tug at you.
“god, you’re good, i was about to cum.” rafe groans, relaxing back into the couch as you’re still kneeled below him, wiping away the spit that has fallen down onto your chin.
“how do you wanna fuck me?” you ask, standing up over rafe.
“hands and kneels, cherry.” rafe stands, shucking his pants off of where they are pooled around his ankles.
you climb onto the couch, arching your back to present your ass to rafe. he rubs his hands over your bum before rubbing his fingers through your folds, surprised to find how wet you already are.
“you're actually turned on, huh?” rafe smirks, taking his cock and rubbing it through your folds. 
“yeah.” you whine, trying to push your hips backwards, to get him inside of you.
“damn cherry, you're acting like you're the one paying me here.” rafe laughs, and you know you should be more professional, and maybe you would have if rafe would have asked you to ride him, but being bent over the couch, waiting for his big cock to enter you has you actually turned on for the first time when with a client.
“come on.” you moan, arching your back to present your cunt to rafe, which finally has him satisfying your wishes, sliding forward as his cock stretches you open.
“fuck.” rafe groans, instantly snapping his hips forward, slick sounds echoing around the empty room as he moves.
you finally remember that you’re the stripper here and begin to push your hips back onto him, meeting every one of his thrusts. as soon as you start to move, rafe grabs onto your hips to help out, slamming your bodies together.
“such a pretty pussy, cherry.” rafe says, hands squeezing your hips, just gentle enough to not leave bruises.
“such a big cock.” you compliment right back. “feels so good in me.”
“yeah, you like this big dick, huh?” rafe smirks, moaning when your cunt clenches down on him. you’re determined to make him cum quickly, despite not wanting it to be over any time soon, you also want to impress rafe and show off your skills.
you spread your legs a little more and press yourself forward so you can sink down onto your elbows, giving rafe a whole new angle, which you can tell he likes from the groan that escapes his lips.
“so good for me, gonna have to come back here and fuck you more often.” rafe says, hips grinding into your ass.
“yeah, yes, please.” you whine out, reaching between your legs with one hand to rub at your clit, knowing you shouldn’t worry about yourself and just focus on rafes pleasure, but your clit is pulsing and begging to be touched as you massage it.
“such a dirty whore.” rafe says, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.
rafe continues to fuck you hard while you get yourself closer to the edge, surprised how easily your high is building as rafes cock pumps into you.
“you close cherry? can feel you clenching round me.” rafe asks, sliding his hands to your ass, grabbing your cheeks and spreading them open, using the grip on your bum to continue to pull your hips back onto his cock.
“yeah, real close.” you moan, making sure to exaggerate your noises, hoping it would spur rafe along, and it does as he starts to moan incessantly, panting out a mix of curse words and your stage name.
“gonna cum.” he manages to warn seconds before he releases inside of the condom, grinding his hips into you as it triggers your own orgasm, fingers rubbing speedily as you cum, slumping into the couch as shivers rack your body.
rafe keeps himself lodged inside of you until your highs are thoroughly rode out. he pulls out with a groan, not able to help himself as he brings a hand to smack your ass, not hard enough to leave a print despite your no hitting rule, but you let it slide, especially as your wetness drips onto the couch.
“did i wear you out cherry?” rafe smirks, taking the condom off and tossing it into the trashcan before getting his clothes back on.
“fuck yeah you did.” there’s no use denying it, rafe can tell by the way you’re still breathing heavily.
“can you hand me a towel.” you point towards a small rack by the door that rafe hadn’t noticed before, clean towels stacked neatly on it. rafe grabs one of the washcloths, stepping over to you as you manage to turn yourself to sit upright on the couch.
“let me, yeah?” he kneels down, one hand gently rubbing at your thighs while he wipes your fluids away from your cunt, cleaning you off with surprising gentleness.
“thanks.” you mumble as rafe tosses the cloth into the trash as you redress in what little clothing you were wearing.
“how much?” rafe asks, pulling out his wallet as you collect the money that fell out of your waistband when you stripped for him.
you rattle off the number as rafe opens his wallet, pulling out more than enough to give you a generous tip, but he’s clearly not hurting for cash.
“do you go on again tonight?” rafe asks as you tuck the money into the cup of your bra.
“yeah, i’ve got one more number.” you nod as you head towards the door, opening it for rafe.
“i’ll stay just for you then, cherry.” rafe says, walking out the door past you with that signature smirk.
you feel your cheeks blush slightly as you watch him saunter down the hallway and then take his same seat as you rush backstage.
“tell me everything!” sugar shouts.
“oh my god,” you flop down on one of the couched, muscles still tired. “he is BIG.”
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645
2K notes · View notes
tunatoge · 5 months
Text
pairing: teen!s. gojo x fem!reader (use of "mom")
contents: gojo fucks up tsumiki's talent show (whoopsies!), mention of smoking and swear words, slight slut shaming
“my parents are really cool—uh, hi mom… hi, satoru,” tsumiki announces to the group of students and parents during her talent show. you glance at gojo who holds his phone up like a proud dad, recording the entire thing as he gives tsumiki a thumbs up. “and they helped me with this,” she adds as she wrings her hands. “this is for you guys… and megumi.” 
you giggle as megumi shifts in his seat, his cheeks a soft pink. you stop laughing when an explicit song starts playing from the auditorium’s stereo system, tsumiki awkwardly dancing on stage to the music. you snap your head towards gojo, your mouth agape. gojo stands up as he whoops and hollers, still recording tsumiki. 
“that’s my daughter!” he shouts as parents rush to cover their kids’ ears. “yeah, tsumiki! you’re doing great!” 
you cover megumi’s ears as you step down on gojo’s right foot. “satoru,” you hiss angrily, watching from the corner of your eye as the school staff struggle to pause the music. “what the fuck is this?” 
he looks at you, his blue eyes practically glowing in the dimly lit room. “what? it’s a good song!” he insists. 
“yeah,” you say as the music pauses and tsumiki bows before skipping away. “for people our age while we’re out clubbing and drinking! that was so inappropriate for kids!” 
satoru sits down next to you, ignoring the way the other parents glare at him and curse him out under their breath. “she told me she wanted to stick out so i told her i knew what to do!” 
you frown and you uncup your hands from megumi’s ears. he glares at gojo with you, easily knowing gojo fucked up. 
“i thought we agreed you’d stop helping the kids with their talent shows after you told megumi that using jujutsu for a magic show was a good idea,” you hiss, briefly turning around and apologizing to the angry mom behind you who kicks at your feet. 
“god,” the mom hisses after seeing your face, “of course it’s some stupid teen parents.” 
you frown at her words, keeping megumi from jumping up and attempting to fight the lady. you excuse yourself, squeezing past knees as they look at you and glare. 
“did you hear what that little girl said?” someone whispers to their partner as you walk by. “she said mom and satoru, not dad. that’s gotta be one messed up family.” they snicker. 
you grit your teeth as you move towards the exit, quietly squeezing out the door and pulling a pack of cigarettes from your jacket pocket. you always knew you and gojo were going to face backlash for raising tsumiki and megumi while being kids yourselves, but you never thought you’d be facing it yourself after the kids had taken to calling you mom and refused to call satoru dad. you sigh and move away from the school building, taking a cigarette between your lips. you dig around for your zippo, frowning when you can’t find it. 
“i thought we agreed you’d stop smoking,” gojo says behind you. you look up at him, tsumiki in his arms and megumi next to him. 
you swallow as you place the cigarette back in its box. “not like i could’ve smoked it anyway,” you say as you take megumi’s hand in yours and walk towards the car. “i lost my lighter, the one suguru gave me.” 
“i have it.” you look at gojo as he digs around in his pocket and pulls out your tarnished silver zippo lighter. he flips it around and around in his hands, index finger gently running over the engraving on its side. “hand me your cigarettes and i’ll give it back to you.” 
you sigh as you unlock the car door and situate megumi into his car seat. “i don’t need it if i’m not smoking.” you buckle megumi in and gently ruffle his hair before shutting the door. 
gojo sighs as he sets tsumiki in the car and shuts the door. “what’s wrong?” he asks, rounding the car and taking your elbows into his overly large palms. he smooths them up your triceps, touch airy and light. “you only ever feel the need to smoke when something’s bothering you.” 
you sigh as you lean into his touch. “i’m just tired of people assuming i’m some whore who spreads their legs for anyone. it really hurts when parents look at me with so much disgust when tsumiki or megumi call me mom.” you lean forward and press your forehead into gojo’s firm chest. 
“y’know,” gojo starts as he rests his chin in your hair, “those parents probably would have never stepped up like you did. you gave up the rest of your childhood for theirs and those stupid adults will never know that.” he pulls away and carefully looks you in the eye. “they can assume as much as they want, pretty, because the four of us know the truth and the truth is much stronger.” 
you let out a choked laugh as you press your head back into his chest. “yeah, you’re right. they’re just some stupid old people.” 
gojo laughs as he fully wraps his arms around you, rocking you back and forth in the parking lot of tsumiki’s school. 
megumi swings his door open. “can we go home now?” he calls. “tsumiki’s tired.” 
you laugh as you pull away from gojo and wipe at your eyes. “yes, we can,” you respond, digging in your pockets and handing gojo your cigarettes. he smiles and hands you your zippo in return. “mom’s gotta have a long talk with dad once we get there.” 
gojo grins at the way you laugh at megumi’s scrunched up face. he’s thoroughly glad that it was you who stepped up with him.
2K notes · View notes
0cta9on · 24 days
Note
Sana and Miyeon fucking their boyfriend and they fight over him to make him choose her favorite girlfriend (full story please)
A Stroke of Luck
length: +3k words
Twice Sana x (G)-Idle Miyeon x Male Reader
(Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long!! First threesome piece, so I hope it's alright)
Tumblr media
【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★
Sometimes you wonder just how you got so lucky. Since the day you were born, you were able to glide through life, getting anything you could ever want with a simple wave of your hand or a nod of your head. Perhaps your life of luxury can be attributed to your incredibly wealthy parents spoiling you the second you drew your first breath, or maybe your past life sacrificed themselves to save the universe and the higher power up there is finally giving you your recompense. Regardless, you revel in the fact that you have everything - and everyone - right at the tip of your fingers.
Frankly, you have a vague memory of how you met them - your memory always gets hazy when alcohol is involved. You were never too keen on clubbing, viewing it as a waste of money for a night you’ll never be able to remember, but it was a small price to pay to appease some potential business partners that your parents would eventually bleed dry before tossing to the curb. While trying to keep up appearances, the crowd parted at just the right moment, allowing you to gaze upon these goddesses for the first time, two Mona Lisas that made even the most beautiful supermodel comparable to a two-year-old’s crayon drawing. This is when your memory gets a bit blurry. A quick exchange of sultry alcohol-infused words, a brief yet lingering touch on the arm, and suddenly you had them both face down in some expensive hotel room, pounding away to high heaven. After a night of blissful sex, you would wake up alone with a note on the nightstand and one new message on your phone from an unknown number. Upon reading the note, only then did you realize just how truly lucky you are.
That night was a year ago. In fact, today marks the exact anniversary of that night - your first anniversary with your girlfriends. You have a whole schedule planned for later, which includes an expensive dinner for the three of you, a private fireworks show, and a steamy ending between the sheets as the cherry on top. As bizarre and outlandish as your situation is, you genuinely do love them and want to spoil them with a good time. Unfortunately (or rather, fortunately), one of them isn’t content with waiting around until dinner rolls by.
The sight of the cute Japanese woman crawling towards you in nothing but one of your white button-up shirts is a sight you would gladly get surgically implanted into your retinas. She tries to glare at you menacingly, but her round eyes and her bread-like cheeks only serve to make her look adorable.
“Sana, what are you doing?” You ask, amused.
“I’m a tiger stalking their prey. Rawr~” she teases, stifling a giggle. Any attempts at trying to watch the game on the TV prove futile once Sana starts rubbing your thighs, her hands tantalizingly close to your crotch.
“Miyeon is gonna be pissed if she finds out we’re fucking without her, you know?” You say as you run your hands lovingly through her silky hair.
“If she finds out.” Sana punctuates her statement with a kiss on your bulge. “Just don’t let her find out,” she giggles. Before you can object, her hands are already unzipping your pants and taking out your erect cock. Sana gazes at it affectionately, licking her lips as she strokes you slowly. Compared to Miyeon, she is much more vocal about her desires, begging and pouting until you finally give in to her demands (Not that you would ever say no to that face). Whether it’s a new handbag or your cock inside of her, Sana gets what she wants one way or another.
“You naughty girl,” you tease, caressing her cheek. “You really can’t wait until Miyeon gets home?”
“Mm-mm,” she mutters, shaking her head before taking your entire length into her mouth. The overwhelming sensation of her tongue lapping up your precum causes an involuntary groan to escape your throat. An entire year of this and not once does it ever get old. Life is fucking great, isn’t it?
Sana’s doe eyes scan your reaction as she worships your member, always so attentive, ensuring that you’re enjoying the experience as much as she is. She watches the way you squirm when she sucks on your balls or the way your breath hitches in your throat whenever her teeth gently graze against your skin. To the unknowing eye, Sana can easily be seen as a materialistic brat, but you know better than anyone how much she reciprocates your affection. It’s most evident in how hard she tries to take all of you in at once, struggling to the point of tears as she forces your cock down her throat.
“Fuck, Sana,” you moan. “Save some of that energy for later tonight.”
She struggles to catch her breath after another attempt at deepthroating you. Precum and saliva coat her mouth and chin, dripping down to her chest that’s barely hidden behind your white button-up shirt.
“I just can’t help myself when I’m with you. That beast between your legs is just sooooo enticing.” Sana hops into your lap, pressing her full body weight into you. You feel her panting breath tickle your nose while you stare at the many charming features of her face. How lucky you are to have such a beautiful woman in your life.
“Why are you smiling?” she teases, the sweet sound of her laugh brushing against your ears.
“I love you, Sana,” you state firmly. Her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink right before she hides her embarrassed expression in the crook of your neck, giggling delightfully. You’re so infatuated by her cuteness that you almost forget that she’s naked and sitting on your lap. Almost.
One by one, you unbutton her shirt, slowly revealing that body you love so much. Her full, perky breasts sit above her toned stomach which flows and ebbs into her petite waist. You run your hands along her familiar curves, painting her chest with kisses. Your body aches for her and hers for yours, clawing and gripping and kissing every inch of your beings, trying to absorb one another just to get closer than humanly possible.
Sana cups your face, eyes steeled with lustful determination. “I need you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard that Miyeon gets jealous. I want to be the only woman for you, even if it’s just for a little moment.”
Without another word, you stand up, carrying her by her ass and aligning your cock with her moist folds before staring deep into her eyes as you thrust yourself into her, watching her face morph into several shapes of desire as she adjusts to your size. Sana’s arms and legs wrap around your torso, desperately clinging onto you to try and take in every inch of your cock. You’re not sure how long she’s felt like this; you always considered her and Miyeon to be a package deal, never one without the other for too long. You love them both equally and always ensure that you never showed favorites. Maybe you slipped up recently, or maybe the two of them are fighting behind the scenes. Whatever it is, if Sana wants to feel like the only woman in your life, you’ll gladly grant her wish in a heartbeat.
“Sana… baby… I love you so much,” you pant into her ear.
“MMPH, yes! I love you too, baby! F-Fuck! You’re the only one that can satisfy me!” She mashes her lips into yours, forcing your tongues into a messy yet sensual dance. Her moans vibrate in your mouth, drowning out any kind of background noise other than the clapping of your hips against hers. Her sweet pussy takes you in so well, almost as if it was tailor-made just for you. However, your cock belongs to two women. One of those women happens to be unlocking the front door right at this moment.
“Hey guys, I’m bac- Hey!”
Much to Sana’s dismay, you momentarily pause your thrusts to glance at the source of the voice. The second love of your life, Miyeon, is standing right there with a large bouquet of flowers and an irritated pout on her lips.
“Hi princess,” you say to her, hoping to ease the tension. “What do you have there?”
“They’re from work,” she huffs, tossing the flowers onto the sofa before stomping towards you. “What are you doing?!”
You let out a sheepish laugh as you set Sana down to the ground, pulling out of her sweet embrace. Now two pairs of unhappy eyes are looking up at you. “W-well, you see, you know how Sana is-”
“How could you two have sex without me?!” Miyeon exclaims.
“Yah, don’t yell at him!” Sana interjects. “It’s not his fault he prefers my pussy over yours!”
“O-okay, I never said th-” You try to come in between them, but they both push you away with surprising synchronization.
“No, he doesn’t! You probably just threw yourself at him, you slut!”
Sana gasps. “Slut?! You’re just jealous that he likes me more than you!”
The two continue to bicker and argue, and you start to worry that things could get physical. Right as Sana lifts her hand, you step in between the two of them, shielding Miyeon from a potential slap.
“OKAY, let’s all calm down for a second, alright?” You gently grasp Sana’s wrist, putting it down by her side. “What is going on between you two? You guys are best friends, why are you fighting all of a sudden?”
The two fall silent, averting their teary eyes to the floor, standing there like bickering sisters. You never expected this kind of behavior from either of them, especially on the day of your anniversary.
“Look at me,” you command, lifting up both of their chins towards you. “I love the both of you and I don’t want to see you fighting. We’re going to stand here and talk until this all gets resolved, even if it takes all night.”
Seeing the serious look in your eyes, both of their expressions soften. Sana is the first to speak up.
“I see the way you treat Miyeon. Sometimes I feel like you like her more than me, and it makes me feel… jealous.”
Compared to Sana, Miyeon is on the quieter side, rarely demanding things from you or complaining about anything. In the beginning of your relationship, you assumed that she wasn’t into the idea of polygamy and only tagged along because of Sana. It took a while to understand her, but you eventually found out that Miyeon just doesn’t like asking for things and wants you to basically read her mind. Now, you can tell exactly what she’s thinking just from her body language, and Miyeon consequently became more affectionate towards you. Sana must have noticed the differences in the way you treat her and thought you were showing favoritism.
“Okay, yes, I treat Miyeon differently than I treat you, but that doesn’t mean I love her more than you, Sana,” you reassure her. “You girls have different personalities and both of you deserve a man that can love you the way you want to be loved. I’m sorry if it seems like I treat her better, but that’s really not the case, okay? Please don’t fight because I made a mistake.”
Sana and Miyeon look at each other with an apologetic expression before falling into a warm embrace.
“I’m sorry I fucked him without you,” Sana apologizes.
“I’m sorry I called you a slut.”
Sana pulls Miyeon into a deep and loving kiss. It starts out innocently enough, but eventually, the two begin moaning into each other’s mouths while their hands explore their bodies. You can’t help but stroke your cock at the sight of your two ladies making out in front of you. Miyeon notices your erection and whispers giddily into Sana’s ear, prompting a mischievous smile to grow on the Japanese woman’s lips.
“We’re so sorry about fighting, baby,” Sana says in a sultry tone.
“Yeah, we’ve been such naughty girls.” Miyeon looks at you with her siren eyes, drawing you in with a simple glance. “Maybe you should punish us, baby.”
Sana reaches out and grabs your rod, pulling you closer. “Yeah, punish us with your big, fat cock.”
With your heart pounding with excitement, you grab their wrists, pulling them towards the bedroom as the sounds of their giggles trail behind you. You throw them towards the bed, quickly freeing yourself from any clothing as they watch with anticipation. Miyeon bites her lip as she ogles your body, while Sana touches herself just thinking about all the things you’ll do to the both of them.
“Miyeon is a bit overdressed, don’t you think so, Sana?” You ask, smirking. Sana nods in agreement, pulling Miyeon into a heavy kiss while her hand snakes its way into her top. You get to work on Miyeon’s bottom half, kneeling in front of her and tugging at her skirt to reveal the damp spot on her panties. You pull Miyeon’s legs over your shoulder so her thighs sandwich your face and begin planting kisses all over her supple skin. Sana tosses Miyeon’s top and bra to the other side of the room before sucking on Miyeon’s perky tits. Her high-pitched princess moans fill the room, accompanied by the wet kissing sounds of you and Sana pleasuring her body.
“Ah, fuck! Yes, just like that!” Miyeon exclaims. You hungrily pull off her panties before diving into her heat, licking between her folds and flicking your tongue against her clit. Sana sits behind her, holding her spasming body while nibbling her ear.
“I bet you’re sooooo exhausted after work, aren’t you, princess?” Sana whispers into Miyeon’s ear. Miyeon nods amidst her whimpering, biting her lip at her girlfriend, begging for her to take her. Sana obliges, shoving her tongue into her mouth as you shove your tongue into Miyeon’s dripping pussy. It doesn’t take long for Miyeon to reach her first orgasm, squirting her nectar all over your face which you gladly lap up, not wasting a single drop. Her body shivers with pleasure, but you have only just begun.
Sana and Miyeon watch intently as you stand up and align your cock with Miyeon’s glistening heat. With a mischievous smirk, Sana moves aside, letting Miyeon lie on her back. Miyeon’s mouth forms an “O” as you insert your tip inside of her, and Sana seizes the chance by sitting on Miyeon’s face, grinding her hips into the Korean woman’s open mouth. Your bodies form a literal love triangle as Sana pulls your face towards her, catching your lips with hers as you thrust deeply into Miyeon. You imagined this to be the last thing you did on your anniversary night instead of the first thing, but you don’t mind doing things a bit out of order. As long as these two lovely ladies are happy, you’re happy.
“Isn’t Miyeon’s pussy so tight, baby?” Sana asks with a smirk on her face. You nod, becoming increasingly aroused by Sana’s dirty talk, quickening the pace of your thrusts. Miyeon’s muffled moans become significantly louder, causing Sana to cling onto your shoulders for support as she reaches her climax. Sana pulls your head into another kiss, moaning into her mouth as her body trembles from her orgasm. She eventually collapses to the side of the bed, allowing Miyeon to finally breathe. 
The light reflects off of Sana’s nectar on Miyeon’s skin, giving her the appearance of a glimmering angel. You slow down the pace of your thrusts, bringing your face close to Miyeon’s ear.
“Mirror?” You ask simply. She nods excitedly, biting her lip with anticipation.
If there’s one thing you learned about Miyeon since dating her for the past year, it’s that she absolutely adores herself. If she suddenly turned quiet, it was because she was either staring at a mirror or taking selfies. Every time she sent you nudes, it was more so to show you just how beautiful is rather than solely for your benefit (Not that you minded, of course). On the nights the three of you felt particularly frisky and decided to film yourselves, Miyeon would always rewind her parts, going on about how sexy she looks when she’s about to cum or how pretty her own moans sound. You wouldn’t say she’s narcissistic; rather, she’s just confident in her looks, and she had every reason to be. Cho Miyeon is the perfect embodiment of a princess, and you love that about her.
You bend Miyeon over the vanity, making sure she has a good view of herself before you rail her from behind. She peers over her shoulder at you and winks, wiggling her ass playfully.
“What are you waiting for? Aren’t you gonna punish m- AH!”
You grip onto Miyeon’s slim waist and begin to pound her hot cunt with ease. The entire vanity shakes as she clings onto it for dear life, barely able to support herself as her legs become as stable as jelly. Despite the stage of disarray she’s in, Miyeon maintains eye contact with herself in the mirror, evidently turning her on more with how her pussy tightens around your cock.
“Cum for me, princess,” you whisper gruffly into her ear. “You look so pretty when you cum.”
“I do?” she asks, flashing her puppy dog eyes at you through the mirror. You nod, unable to speak a coherent word as the sensation begins to feel too much. Miyeon squeals with pleasure as her juices begin to leak down her legs and onto the floor. You hold her up in case her trembling legs give out on her as she rides out her orgasm.
“Good girl,” you reassure her, planting kisses all over her back. Once she calms down, you help her to the bed and lay her down gently next to Sana.
“That was so fucking hot, princess,” Sana says, giving Miyeon a small peck on the lips. Miyeon giggles, her eyes barely able to stay open. With Sana’s energy back and your cock still hard, she descends on you like a panther, pinning you to the bed.
“Miyeon’s tongue is nice, but I needdddd your fat fucking cock inside of me,” she smirks as she straddles your lap, guiding your tip inside of her pussy. Her eyes roll back inside of her head as she takes you little by little, before completely bottoming out inside of her. After a moment of adjusting, Sana begins to ride your cock, holding onto your chest for support. You squeeze and tug at her bouncing tits, eliciting cute little squeals from her. A still-tired Miyeon decides to join in the fun, pushing Sana down onto your cock with more force and teasing her clit.
“HOLY FUCK!” Sana squeals ecstatically.
“I bet you like being a little slut, huh?” Miyeon teases her. “You like being filled up by our boyfriend’s cock, don’t you?”
“FUCK! Yes, I love it so much!”
“You wanna be filled with his cum, right baby?” Miyeon smirks at you as she whispers into Sana’s ear. With how close you are, you have no choice but to follow along with her impromptu plan. 
“Oh god, yes please fill me with your cum, baby!” Sana exclaims, eyeing you desperately. Miyeon’s hand trails up your chest as she leans in towards you.
“You heard her,” she says, slyly cupping your cheek. “Better give her what she wants.”
Without hesitation, you shoot your load straight into Sana’s womb. Sana’s second orgasm follows shortly after, your fluids mixing together inside of her. Out of an entire year of fucking these two wonderful girls, this is the hardest orgasm you have ever experienced.
Eventually, Sana collapses on top of you, gasping for breath, while Miyeon quickly laps up the fluids dripping from the Japanese woman’s legs. You can’t help but laugh at Sana’s post-orgasm shivering.
“H-holy… shit,” Sana says breathlessly. “That… was fucking amazing.”
Miyeon crawls up, laying her head on Sana’s chest. “Yeah, he’s pretty great, isn’t he?” The two girls giggle at each other, exchanging playful kisses and warm looks. You wrap your arm around the both of them, grateful that they’re not fighting anymore.
“How did I get so lucky to have the two of you in my life?” You ask, gazing at these two beauties lovingly. With a quick glance at the clock, you notice that you still have a couple hours until the dinner reservation. “Why don’t you two hop in the shower and get ready? I have something special planned for tonight.”
“You’re not gonna join us?” Miyeon asks.
“I would love to, princess, but I know for a fact that we’re not gonna make it to dinner if I join you in the shower,” you joke. Sana jolts up, grabbing Miyeon’s wrist.
“I am NOT missing out on dinner,” Sana states, dragging Miyeon into the bathroom with her. Right before they close the door behind them, they turn to you one last time.
“We love you!” They say in unison. 
You lay back on the bed, smiling to yourself as you look up at the ceiling. How did you ever get so lucky?
671 notes · View notes
azulpitlane · 5 months
Text
just pr I ln4
pairing: lando norris x ricciardo!reader summary: after being caught hooking up with lando, you both decide it would be good for your images to fake date. too bad you hate each other. notes: been loving enemies to lovers rn🫣 masterlist
f1gossip
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
230,421 likes
f1gossip New WAG alert? After a night of partying, Lando Norris was pictured kissing Y/n Ricciardo outside the club! Onlookers claim they then went home together after this👀 He was seen having a private dinner with another girl just a few days ago and rumored to have brought a different girl on his ski trip a few weeks ago.
view all comments
user lando is on a streak LOL
user this is so random?!? i was not expecting this duo but im here for it HAHA
user no cause she rarely attends races but when she does shes never seen with lando?😭
user omg he better not play my girl, I love y/n
user WHAT DOES DANIEL THINK OF THIS OMG
user I wanna read the family gc so bad...
user wait they would be so cute
user is he finally settling down omg
user I hope so, I lowkey see them together
user im here for it!! shes so much better than these other girls hes been seen with
Tumblr media
notification center
danny what. were. you. thinking. you're in so much trouble missy call me ASAP!!!
y/bff/n LANDO NORRIS?!?!? WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM BEING A PIECE OF SHIT??? girl we need to debrief last night
lando norris we need to talk
Tumblr media
Fucking fantastic.
Based on your notifications, you put two and two together and realized you were paparazzi'd with none other than the man you hated the most. You and Lando had a very complicated relationship to say the least. You had met when your brother, Daniel, joined McLaren and from the start he had given you the cold shoulder. You didn't know what you did wrong and tried to be kind to him, but after a while you stopped when he dismissed you like a child. You thought you would get along with him after Danny had told you about his interest in photography. You yourself were a photographer and decided to take the year traveling with your brother to capture some photos in F1, but you had figured the fame was getting to Lando especially after his breakup with his girlfriend. He was starting to bring different girls to the garage in every race and you would never see them again after.
You remember your last interaction with him in the McLaren garage in the final race of the '22 season was when the complicated part of your relationship began.
"What are you doing here, y/n? This is a place for serious professionals, not hobbyists."
"Lando, always the charmer. I'm here to photograph greatness."
"Greatness? You wouldn't know greatness if it lapped you on the track."
"Well, I'm pretty sure greatness doesn't come with an ego the size of your car."
"Watch your tone, y/n. This is a dangerous place, not a playground for kids."
"I can handle myself, Lando. Unlike some people, I don't need a helmet to protect my head."
Both your eyes were filled with hatred as they interlocked, each refusing to back down. As the race begins, y/n continues to snap photos, capturing Lando's intense focus and determination.
After the race, both Lando and Daniel were disappointed they were not able to get into the podium on their last race of the season. Your brother asked for some time alone so you approached Lando, camera in hand, knowing it would be the last time you were in the same garage as him.
"Tough race, Lando. I got some incredible shots, though."
"Don't patronize me, y/n."
"You know for what it's worth, I saw a different side of you on the track this season. It's like you're fighting not just against other drivers, but against something within yourself.
"What are you talking about?"
"I may be the younger sister of your teammate, but I'm not blind. There's more to you than the arrogant facade you put on."
After that conversation, you began seeing Lando less and less considering your brother was now racing in AlphaTauri and you were hardly at the paddock anymore. The few times you did see Lando, the tension had shifted into something different. But it was now winter break and you and Lando were both back in Monaco.
You had gone out last night and you did not believe your luck when you saw Lando in the same club with a smirk on his face. Determined to show you could rise above the tension, you decided to lose herself in the pulsating rhythm of the music. As you moved to the beat, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you found yourself face-to-face with none other than Lando.
"Surprised to see me, princess?" He looked at you with a mocking smile knowing the nickname would rile you up.
"Surprised to see you alone at a club and not wrapped up with some girl? Yes, actually."
"Didn't take you for the jealous type, I like it."
Against your better judgment, you found herself drawn into banter with him. The tension between you turned into a strange kind of chemistry as you exchanged barbs, each remark escalating in intensity. A few drinks were exchanged and you slowly began to lose your guard around him and eventually ending up on his bed that night.
You groaned at the memory of last night's mistake and decided it was best to text Lando back before anyone else to get your story straight. He quickly replied saying he was on his way and you began to straighten yourself up.
"You know usually when I hook up with a girl I don't see her the next morning. Consider yourself lucky y/n."
"Still arrogant as ever, even when we're both fucked right now."
"Well you're a little more fucked than I am really."
"Just get in here Lando." You opened the door to let him in and quickly shut it afraid you would be pictured together again.
"I've got good news for you sweetheart. My team has made a plan to sort this mess out."
"Go on with it. What is it?"
"Jeez feisty in the mornings, heh? But congratulations, you are officially my girlfriend, we've been dating for a few weeks now and have kept it under wraps to figure out our feelings for each other privately."
"A fake relationship? That's your solution? No fucking way."
Lando sighed and rolled his head back in annoyance. He knew you were immediately going to shut this idea down but he had planned what he was going to say beforehand and knew what to say to convince you.
"You think I want to do this? My team needs me to do this, I haven't exactly looked like a saint these past few weeks and hooking up with my friend's sister behind his back isn't going to make me look any better."
"And what's that got to do with me?"
"Well in case you haven't noticed, this doesn't look good on your part either princess. There's some hateful people on the internet already slut shaming you and saying you betrayed your brother. If we tell people we were already dating prior to these pictures, it lessens the hate. Not only that, are you really going to tell Danny you had a meaningless one night stand with one of his friends?"
You knew he had a point. Danny wasn't going to be happy if he found out about the brewing tension between you and Lando.
"Please y/n, the internet already likes us together. This would be good for us."
"Lando Norris saying please? Wow, never thought I'd see the day." You genuinely were shocked at his desperateness for you to agree, you didn't think about how this affected him as much it did you.
"Yeah, yeah. It's only for a few months then we could go back to pretending we dont exist to each other."
"Okay fine, just for a few months. And I'm doing this for Danny, not for you." You quickly agreed not really thinking it would be that big of a deal. Just a few posts and appearances together and this would be over before you knew it.
"I knew you'd give in." Lando gave you one of his infamous smirks and planted a kiss in the corner of your mouth. "Now come on we need some pictures to make this convincing."
And so it begins.
landonorris
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 3,294,240 others
landonorris secrets out
tagged yourusername
view all comments
user OMFG
user im actually so happy theyre so cute😭❤️
user WHAT WAS DANNYS REACTION
yourusername 🧡
danielricciardo on the next flight to monaco btw. maxverstappen1 yourusername ooouuu you're in troubleeee user LMFAO MAX user WAIT DID DANIEL NOT KNOW???
danielricciardo 🫠🫠
user AHAHAH he doesn't seem too happy user 💀
user am I tripping or is he holding y/ns camera🥹
user it looks like the one she always has on her I LOVE THEM ALREADY
user my new roman empire I won't shut up about them from now on
user wasn't lando just with other girls?
user he can have female friends!! its not impossible
Tumblr media
part two??
2K notes · View notes
barcaatthemoon · 2 months
Text
jenni's girl || alexia putellas x reader ||
Tumblr media
alexia gets jealous watching you hang around your ex.
minors dni, 18+, smut ahead, bottom reader, top alexia
alexia was seething as she watched jenni flirt with you and buy you drinks. she knew that you knew what was going on, and yet, you still let it happen. alexia had pretty royally screwed up earlier in the day by completely dismissing you, but she still hadn't expected you to go running into jenni's arms the moment that you got into the club. especially not with the history surrounding the two of you.
that was why alexia was so scared. both of you had dated jenni, but alexia could see the lasting mark that had on you. sometimes she felt like all you wanted was to go crawling back to the older woman. she did her best not to think about the fact that she had been your rebound for jenni, but when she saw the way you hung off of the other woman's arm, it was impossible.
"has anyone ever told you that you need to relax?" mapi asked as she draped an arm around alexia's shoulder. alexia was quick to shrug it off as she continued to glare at you and jenni. "she wouldn't do that to you. maybe you're getting so upset because you're pro-,"
"i would never!" alexia shouted as she shoved mapi back. mapi's brows furrowed in anger before she stormed off. they were all supposed to be happy and celebrating, but alexia was having a bad enough time to ruin anybody else's night. you glanced away from jenni for the first time in probably 10 minutes to see alexia sitting by herself, obviously upset.
"go to her, but be careful. i wouldn't want to see you get hurt," jenni said. she pressed a kiss to your cheek, which alexia definitely did not miss. she got up from her seat and began to walk towards the exit, completely ignoring you as you followed her. the two of you managed to get outside and to the parking lot before alexia finally turned around to face you.
"i'm surprised you're not back in there with jenni," alexia scoffed. you frowned at her, deeply upset by the accusatory tone that she was using. "come on, i know that you miss her. i know that deep down, you'll always be hers because she had you first."
"it's not a competition like that, alexia. i'm with you because i love you. yes, i love jenni, but as nothing more than a friend now. you two are friends, and i don't act like you are whenever she asks you to hang out, do i?" you crossed your arms over your chest. if alexia wanted a fight, you were more than happy to give it to her. she was acting ridiculous, and there was no way that all of her anger had come from a single interaction between you and a mutual friend.
"prove it. prove to me that you're not jenni's girl anymore," alexia challenged.
"are you serious?" you asked her. alexia's facial expression didn't soften or move at all, giving you your answer. you rolled your eyes as you moved past her to get in the car. alexia was pissy with you on the drive home, ignoring you until the two of you got back home.
you learned just how serious alexia had been in the parking lot whenever the two of you got home. she had a tendency to shut you out a bit whenever she got jealous, but the tension between the two of you had been extremely horny. alexia found a good balance of that in pinning you against the wall and sliding her thigh in between yours while also denying you any sort of softer affection.
she seemed to relish in the desperate little whine you let out after being denied for several kisses. alexia was staring at you with watchful eyes, darkened by the thoughts of all the ways she'd turn you out to prove that you'd do anything for her. she couldn't wait to bend you over every surface in the house to fuck you senseless.
"ale," you pleaded with her after being denied another kiss. you looked up at her with your best puppy dog eyes and pout, which usually would have worked at any other time. you realized that you must have really messed up back at the club if she wouldn't even give you a second look now. "i'm sorry ale. please, just give me a kiss."
"jenni used to kiss you when she fucked you." alexia wasn't asking because she knew how jenni fucked. you let out a whimper as you crumpled against the wall a little. her face softened for a moment as she sighed and pulled you back up to stand straight. "cari?"
you were at a loss for what to do. you had apologized to alexia and tried to explain yourself, but she wasn't listening to you. in that moment, alexia could see the turmoil that she had been causing you. once she had softened, she looked more like your alexia. you had been fine playing things up whenever you knew that she wasn't genuinely pissed at you.
"i'm sorry," alexia apologized as she pressed a kiss to your forehead. you stepped forward into her arms, pushing both of you away from the door. "you have every right to be mad at me for acting like an ass."
"fuck me hard enough to make me forget about you being a dick. better yet, fuck me hard enough to make me forget how jenni used to." alexia looked surprised by the glint in your eyes, but she went along with it anyway. and if she needed a little more motivation, you had it ready on the tip of your tongue. "god, i don't think anybody has ever made me feel that satisfied. she used to fill me up so fucking good ale, i don't think you under-,"
alexia didn't even make it to the bedroom with you. she spun you around and pushed on your shoulders to bend you over the back of the couch. barely half a second passed before you felt alexia's body weight press against yours as she leaned forward to whisper into your ear, "stay right here, just like this. if you move an inch, i'll let you go see if jenni will take your bratty ass back."
you swallowed thickly as alexia backed away from you. she disappeared down the hallway before coming back just a couple of moments later. you wanted to turn your head to look at her, but you didn't doubt that she'd kick you out for the night. there was an edge to her voice, one that came along with a look of anger that you had seen earlier in the night. you knew that you'd be lucky if alexia let you finish by the end of the night.
"color?" alexia asked as she placed her hands on your skirt. you had worn a very short, leather miniskirt out. alexia had been appreciative of it on the car ride there, but not so much once everybody had filled into the club. many of the girls on the team thought that you were attractive and had attempted to get with you in between your relationships with jenni and alexia.
"green," you answered. alexia, thankfully, didn't rip your skirt as she removed it from your body. it was definitely something that she wanted to see you wear again, even if the moment someone else looked at you, she'd get all jealous and grumpy. alexia carefully set the skirt on the couch next to you, just barely in your eyeline.
"i'd mark your ass up, but i think you'd enjoy that a little too much," alexia told you. you knew that was far from the truth. all it had taken for you to decide that you weren't a fan of being spanked was one particularly wild night whenever you had first gotten together with alexia, one that you were surprised she remembered.
"fuck, ale," you moaned as you felt her fingers run over your center. your underwear were still on, but the press of alexia's fingers was anything but gentle. she wanted to make sure that you could feel everything.
"don't worry, i will," alexia promised. she pressed a line of kisses along your back as she slotted herself right up against you. you let out a gasp as you felt the strap-on that she had chosen for the night press against your cunt. alexia smirked with her lips pressed into the crook of your neck. "i just don't think you can handle it just yet. even with all that big talk, i'm not quite sure you could take my new toy."
"new?" you tried to turn your head back to look, but alexia held your neck firmly in place. you let out a whine as you were denied what you wanted, pulling a chuckle from alexia's lips.
"careful, if you keep this attitude up, i'll bring someone around and make you watch," alexia threatened. it was something the two of you had spoken about quite a bit, and despite how into it you were, alexia knew it would drive you wild. "imagine someone who would be good for me like ona getting all of your orgasms and kisses while you have to sit there all by yourself."
your cheeks were flushed and burning as your head was forced down. alexia's free hand came around to tear your underwear open. you were glad that alexia didn't get in moods like this often or else you'd be going broke trying to replace your clothes. she slipped two fingers inside of you slowly, scissoring them to stretch you open before she added a third.
"breathe," alexia instructed. she kept her hands still as she monitored your breathing. you took deep breaths, ones that alexia matched with gentle thrusts of her fingers. "when i take my fingers out, i'm putting the dildo in. it's the last time i'll be gentle for a while, are you ready?"
"wait!" you shouted out before alexia could move her fingers. "can i have a kiss first, please? alexia, it's all that i want."
"after, i promise," alexia said. you let out a little whine, but nodded for her to take her fingers out of you. she stayed true to her word, replacing her fingers with a harsh thrust of what was definitely a new toy inside of you. you hadn't gotten to see it, but it was thicker and longer than what you were used to.
alexia didn't break out the strap with you very often, generally only if you asked for it or she was really tired. this felt like she had custom ordered it or bought it from a high-end place. there were ribs and ridges that you could feel every bit of as she pounded into you harshly. the icing on the cake, however, was the slight curve that made sure she was fucking into all the right places with every thrust.
"fuck, ale. i'm cumming!" you were lucid enough to know that it was too quickly, but alexia didn't stop. she only grabbed you by the hair and fucked you even harder through your orgasm. she was being rougher than you had ever thought to ask her to be, knowing that she usually hated it a little.
the grip on her hair didn't let up as she continued to fuck you harshly. she managed to get you into your second orgasm quickly, which was when your legs really started to feel like jelly. alexia was supporting you fully now, your body not even touching the couch anymore. alexia briefly pulled out of you just to flip you over and place your body against the couch once more, only this time facing her.
"give me your legs," alexia commanded. you lifted them as much as you could, which wasn't very much at all. alexia scoffed as she just grabbed your thighs and manhandled you into the position that she wanted you. "color?"
"green," you answered weakly. alexia seemed to check on you before she took you at your word. the toy felt completely different from the new angle, and you were screaming out at the first few thrusts.
"shh, just take it," alexia told you. this stretch was completely different than the one before. "breathe, i won't have you passing out on me."
you tried to find a good breathing pattern while she was fucking you, but there really wasn't one. still, you took deep breaths when you could to keep your vision from going fuzzy around the sides. alexia leaned her forehead against yours, but she kept her hand on your jaw to keep you from leaning in any closer. she seemed to remember what she told you, which you had hoped that she wouldn't.
"one more, i know you have it in you. cum for me one more time and i'll give you all the kisses you can handle," alexia promised. you closed your eyes and pushed her head down towards your chest. alexia let you move her a little, knowing that you were getting so close.
"ale, fuck. i don't know if i can." your eyes were squeezed shut as you tried to focus on her fucking you. it was hard, but you knew that you had to try. you felt almost like you were going to cry as your body teetered on the edge of another orgasm. you were so sensitive that your body wasn't sure whether or not it liked the pleasure anymore.
"come on, please. i just want to watch you cum for me, please baby. show me that you're mine," alexia begged you. it was not what you had expected to hear, and the little whine in her voice sparked something in you.
"i'm yours, ale, yours," you repeated over and over until the words jumbled together. this time, you weren't screaming and moaning like the others, your mouth fell open silently as your head dropped back. alexia felt a gush of liquid coat her thighs and drip down onto the floor between your bodies.
"good girl," alexia mumbled as she leaned forward to kiss you. you were too out of it to properly kiss her back, whining once again. "are you okay?"
"i'm fine, ale," you promised her. she nuzzled her head against your neck to pepper a couple of kisses there. "how are you?"
"a little soaked, but i expected as much." you hadn't expected alexia to tell a joke. she carried you into the bathroom and laid you in the corner of the shower as she turned on the water. it wasn't until alexia was standing in there with you, cleaning you off, that you realized what she had said.
"you talked to jenni about fucking me, didn't you?" a part of you was angry, but it also intriguied you quite a bit. "that's how you knew what would happen if you switched with the third. you never take me from behind like that."
"i like to look at your pretty face," alexia said. she grabbed your cheeks and pressed a kiss to your lips. "next time, i'll ask first, i promise."
"next time?" you asked, incredulously. alexia nodded as she turned the water off and stepped out first. she wrapped herself up in a towel before grabbing the fluffy robe for you. "fine, but we need to talk about what you're going to do for me."
"excuse me?" alexia was taken aback by your tone more than anything else.
"i came for you like you asked, even though you were playing games with me and didn't tell me. you said i can have whatever i want, remember?"
"(y/n)," alexia sighed.
"no, alexia, you promised." you crossed your arms over your chest.
"okay then, what do you want?" alexia asked you.
"i want jenni to join us for a night next time she flies in to visit," you said. alexia's jaw dropped, but she couldn't argue with you. besides, she had ideas of her own along that vein that this would be a good trial for. "you promised, ale."
874 notes · View notes
beetlejuicyy · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
Eraser | Ryomen Sukuna x reader
1. Ultimatum
Summary: modern!Sukuna has a tattoo of your name on his chest that he wants to get rid of. Can he, though?
Warnings: gaslighting, toxicity, mentions of cheating
Word count: 2,254
Series masterlist:
1. Ultimatum
2. Wash Away
3. Only Memories
4. Vengeance
Read on AO3
Notes: this idea popped in my head very randomly while I was listening to a song and it screamed modern day Sukuna so here it is
General Masterlist | Divider @rookthornesartistry
Tumblr media
“I want it gone.” Sukuna said, already irritated.
“Are you sure? Covering it up would be way easier.” If this bastard kept talking, Sukuna would rather cut his own skin and get the job done faster.
“I want it gone from my skin.” He growled and the guy quickly went back to the computer to search for an appointment date.
“Any other guy wouldn’t have treated you as well as I did!” Sukuna spat back as if that was supposed to fix something.
You sat down on the floor of your bedroom, back resting against the bed. You were tired of yelling and screaming. He would never allow himself to articulate the word love, not even in this fight that was about to end your relationship for good.
“Really? What else is there to be done? Fuck another girl in my own bed?” You replied sarcastically and he groaned in frustration.
You just couldn’t understand. He warned you that the wasn’t he goodie two shoes compliant man going to a 9 to 5 and talking about finance or computer science like your previous flings. He was running an underground illegal business and networking was the most important thing if you wanted to end up on top. Sukuna reiterated these things many times, as if they could overcome the indescribable magnetic pull you felt towards him. He shouldn’t have flirted with you so confidently and insistently if he never planned to let you in. But you eagerly nodded, dismissing all his warnings, all of Yuuji's, his little brother’s warnings that predicted exactly this moment. When you would find out he made out with another woman in a random club at 1:30AM while you obediently ate your vanilla ice cream and binge watched netflix.
“For the last time, woman!” He yelled, his hoarse voice coming from his throat filled the quiet room. “I didn’t fuck her!”
He was sitting in the doorframe of your bedroom, looking at your pathetic form on the floor. Head supported in your hands, your tangled long hair falling over your face. He had been banging on your front door for half an hour before you agreed to open it. He had smoked cigarette after cigarette, trying to relieve some of the stress. When you finally opened the front door to let him in, all the snarky remarks he had prepared faded away. Your eyes were swollen because of crying, the hems of your sleeping t-shirt, his t-shirt, wet with tears. He followed you back to your room, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk in, seeing you like this. Yelling and cursing at each other was easy, but resisting the sight of your pain was harder than anything he had ever done.
“Oh, yeah sure.” He couldn’t see your face because it was covered by your palms but he knew you rolled your eyes. “First you make out with her and then wait until she throws herself at you. Funny thing, worked on me.” Your voice was strained from all the yelling. Your energy had been used up almost entirely. Now all that was left was a bitter, quiet tone.
“I knew that little brat was too young to get involved in these things.” He mumbled more to himself. He pulled at the knot of his black tie. It was already lose enough. He was suffocating.
“Yuuji didn’t tell me.” You laughed. You were so tired of all of it. Your head fell back on the bed and you looked at the ceiling, as if the answer to your problems was written there for you to read. You didn’t need to see his handsome face to know one eyebrow was cocked in surprise. Damn his face and his black shirt and his perfectly tailored pants and his tattoos. “A private number sent me a video.” Sukuna’s tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek in frustration. “You could call it networking.”
He sighed. It was on video. All he could do was walk up to you, crouch down on the floor and try to resist the urge to touch you. You looked so beautifully devastated at 3:42 AM, only in your panties and one of his t-shirts, pretty legs sprawled on the floor, neck exposed just waiting for his teeth to sink in. But you already thought he was disgusting. It would only make things worse to admit that this sight of you turned him on.
“They’re trying to get to me, can’t you see?” Sukuna’s voice had never been so calm, so quiet. It was deep and throaty, coming from the utmost effort and consideration he held in his large body. “They know how important you are to me.” You only half smiled, as if he said something supposedly funny.
How come you didn’t know how important you were to him? How come he never told you how he felt about you? How come anytime you would seek reassurance from him you would end up in a sexual circumstance? He would tell you that you’re pretty, beautiful, sexy. He would make you feel like a goddess when he would touch you. And you would fall for it most of the time. But never, not once, express his feelings, his sincere and most vulnerable feelings towards you. You couldn’t do that for the both of you anymore. Sukuna seemed to understand the lack of trust from your silence, from the curled corner of your mouth forming a sad half smile, from your empty eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
“I needed information, y/n.” The sleeves of his shirt were folded up to his elbows, a strong smell of cigarettes deeply impregnated in the fabric. You raised your head from the mattress to look at him, bloodshot piercing eyes staring at you closely. “It’s the easiest way of doing it.”
“Yeah, actually you’re right. I need a Prada bag I’ll just make out with the security guy and he’ll give it to me.”
“I can buy it for you.”
Slap.
Sukuna didn’t expect it. The stinging sensation your palm left across his cheek burned deeper than the surface of his skin. It burned inside his heart. He didn’t look back at you. He kept his face turned away, so you could see how the skin changed into a pinkish color, more vibrant than the pink of his hair. Sukuna took a deep breath, licking his lips, trying to find a way to contain himself.
“I knew you had been a manwhore before. But I really thought, I really wanted you to respect me.” Your words cut sharper than any slap could. Your voice was getting louder and shakier with every word, anger and misery mixed in a pitiful sound. “I was stupid to think you would really care.”
“I do.” He said between his gritted teeth.
“You don’t. You just proved it tonight.”
“I told you multiple times.” He placed both of his hands on either side of your frame at the edge of the bed. The smell of his musky high end perfume mixed with cigarettes and a slight scent of alcohol as he spoke intoxicated you. You couldn’t avoid him. “This is what I do, take it or leave it. You said you’re fine with it.”
“You’re saying it’s my fault?” Suddenly you became very aware of the fact that you were covered in minimal clothing and the way he was looking at you, that mix of anger and frustration, his clenched jaw, his soft lips, they all made you want to stop fighting.
“I’m saying you’re exaggerating.”
“You really want me to slap you again.”
“Only if you can bear the consequences.”
You pushed your knees against his body, trying to break away from the cage of his muscular arms at your sides, keeping you prisoner. He didn’t even flinch. You kicks became stronger and more desperate, fighting against him while he did absolutely nothing to you. Sukuna looked at you in surprise, not expecting to be pushed away like this. Usually it took him a few intimidating looks and some sugarcoated words to make you forget that you were mad at him.
No more gaslighting.
No more forgiveness without an apology.
No more loving by yourself for the both of you.
“What the fuck are you doing, y/n?!” He asked in a raspy voice, placing large hands on your bare thighs and forcing them flat against the floor. But now you pushed him away with your arms, although your hands weren’t sure if they should cling to his shirt and pull him close or push him away from you.
“You don’t love me!” Your voice broke and you started crying, salty tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.
You just did it. You said that one thing that had been eating you from inside out for so long, that thing that you were so afraid of voicing out loud. You stopped struggling altogether. Sukuna’s heart broke. He always thought he could get away with his way of living, even after getting into this relationship. You would understand. You would forgive. You would know nobody else meant shit and you were the most important person to him.
“I have you right here, silly.” He said, his hand gesturing to his chest. He was referring to the tattoo he got a couple months ago, a small addition to his collection, your name right above his heart. You were never into this kind of things but he came up with the idea and you guessed you were important enough to him to be part of the story on his skin.
“You can always cover it up.” You said, unable to understand that this was his way of saying I love you, his way of carrying you in his heart at all times. “But what about my heart? I can't cover that up.” You brought your knees to your chest, hugging them with your arms, resting your forehead on top of them. You were so small, so frail. Sukuna used to think you were a strong soul but it seemed that you were more vulnerable than you showed. He had just broken you. Continuously hit your seemingly indestructible outer layer, like a glass that cracked more and more with time, until it shattered completely tonight. He wanted to hug you, to comfort you, to reassure you. But you only wanted one thing. He knew the only thing that would give him a chance would be to say three simple words. And he couldn’t bring himself to say them. So he just sat there on the floor with you, while you sobbed your pain away. The strong and mighty Ryomen Sukuna whom so many people feared was reduced to silence by a woman.
“Go away, Sukuna.” You said when your sobs quieted down, your tears ran dry and your mind started to clear out. You rose your eyes to look at him, still standing in front of you. “Go away!” You said, louder this time, like trying to get a dog to stop following you.
“Do you really want me to leave, you brat?” He asked, hoping that you would change your mind in the last minute.
“Get the fuck out!” You yelled, grabbing whatever your hand found closest to you and throwing it in his direction. It was his pack of cigarettes that was now half empty. It hit him right in his chest before falling miserably on the floor. He didn’t even feel it.
Sukuna had been trying to get in contact with you for the past two weeks. Work had him busy and exhausted all the time but not enough to forget that you weren’t answering his calls, weren’t replying his messages. You even got rid of the airtag he had given you to know your location at all times for safety. He pestered his little brother Yuuji to talk to you but he kept saying you weren’t answering him either. The brat was lying, he knew it. These two weeks had passed excruciatingly slow for Sukuna. It seemed like you had given up on him completely. In an attempt to tend to his shattered ego, given that all hope was gone for his broken heart, he decided to get rid of the tattoo of your name on his chest. He wasn’t going to cover it, like you said. He was going to remove it for good.
“You have to sign here aaand here.” The guy at the reception handed him a pen for the paperwork. Sukuna was just about to sign when his phone rang. When he saw the picture of his little brother on the screen his heart skipped a beat. He was so pathetic. He really hoped Yuuji had some news about you.
“I’m busy, what is it?”
“Uhm, it’s about y/n.” Yuuji’s voice was hesitant, like he still wasn’t sure he was supposed to share this information.
“What about y/n?” Sukuna was growing impatient.
“I think… I think she might be going on a date.” Sukuna’s vision darkened. The grip on his phone was so tight his knuckles turned white.
“Not on my fucking watch.” He muttered between his teeth. “Send me the location.” He turned on his heels in a second, walking out of the building with rushed angry steps.
“Uhm, sir? Your appointment?” The guy at the reception yelled, confused.
“I ain’t removing shit!” He yelled back as he reached his motorcycle. Yuuji had already sent him your location.
《previous Ascension | next》 2. Wash Away
True Form! Sukuna x Reader
Tumblr media
744 notes · View notes
bukguhope · 2 years
Text
Fall Back in Love | jjk
Tumblr media
> jungkook somehow grew a reputation of sleeping around on campus, leaving him lonely and inexperienced with relationships. so when you, his old childhood best friend moves onto campus, he discovers what a relationship can feel like as he finds himself falling in love with you
> jungkook x f.reader, childhood best friends,friends to lovers, slow burn, light smut, jealous! jungkook, needy!jungkook, mature, mentions of blood and fighting
Fall Back in Love drabble
wc: 17.6k (got carried away)
“why would we go on a date?” jungkook fought the frown that wanted to appear on his face. not again. this had to be the at least the third time this month he’s had the exact same conversation the morning after he slept with a woman he either got chatting to at a party or a local club. it was like every woman within a five mile radius had a meeting and collectively decided to sleep with him then never see him again afterwards. he didn’t want to seem pathetic, isn’t that exactly what the majority of guys his age wanted? in their eyes he had the perfect situation going on, constant sex when he wanted it with no strings attached. what he wanted to know however was how they dealt with the constant loneliness that occurred every time the hook up left? or the heartache that came when he saw a college couple walking around campus throwing their love in his face every morning at 8am? he tried not to be bitter, it was cute they found someone to spend their college years with. no he was bitter, so very bitter. he was a romantic at heart, so how did he get such a reputation that meant no woman ever wanted to even go on one date?
oh he knew how, it was that stupid frat party at the beginning of the year when he started his course. the first week of college was basically back to back drinking, parties and nights out. if you remembered it you didn’t do it right, as most people would say. he knew no one, none of his friends were in his year they had already done this prior to him and were doing other things as they were older and deep into their courses. they encouraged him though, saying he needed to make friends in his own year to make his life easier. so when he overheard of this party some guys on the swim team were having, he decided to go along. well, after a lot of convincing from his older friends because he certainly didn’t want to go. but he built up the courage and found himself stuck right in the middle of the action and after a lot of alcohol, he actually found himself having a good time. he found one friend at least, taeyong, who turned out to be his roommate. he stuck by him for most of the night and when he introduced him to this girl- the night took a turn. it was very evident what she wanted, a one night stand, and jungkook wasn’t about to turn her down not after the nice amount of alcohol in his system. now that wasn’t the problem at all, it was the fact she went around afterwards saying he was definitely a player because of how he acted in bed. she made sure that everyone knew that he was good in bed but for some reason she decided to add in a small little detail. that he had never been in a relationship, and he didn’t want one. where she picked this up from? he had no idea, he did say in small talk he never had a relationship but he did not recall insinuating he didn’t ever want one. so now he’s been totally screwed the entire year, and here he was once again the morning after the end of year semester party this time- getting turned down “right, why would we? just asked to, be polite” the woman chuckles as she changes, jungkook watches his own hands play with each other as she does so. he didn’t want this reputation, no one was taking him seriously. although he didn’t necessarily want to date this girl, he still thought it would be nice to go out and have a civilised conversation for once without loud ass music pumping through his ears and drunk people running around him.
“okay well, see ya” and with that she was out of his dorm and he was alone, huffing he flops back and his head hits his pillows. as he led there staring at his ceiling he came to a conclusion, he was done with this, with the one night stands. he felt so pathetic, at first it started off as some fun but then it turned into just bringing someone back so he had someone to cuddle to sleep - how sad. the sadess part was that sometimes they didnt even stay the night, so occasionally he would end up alone anyway. but now he couldnt do it anymore, he felt used and even more alone then when this all started.  “here he is, the man of the hour”
“taeyong, iam not in the mood” he wasnt even scared of the man bursting into his room anymore, not even a flinch, this happened more often then he would like, he appreciated the guy but boy did he have zero boundaries. 
“dont be so glum, just saw that girl leave. have fun last night did we?” jungkook glared at him as he plonked himself at the end of his bed, he didnt need anymore reminders of the embarrassment he just endured and he doesnt want to engage anymore in the idea that he was nothing more then a good night to these women. especially with the fact that most people did not think much of him growing up, particularly when it came to his feelings. as a kid he was known as ‘the one thats good a sport’ for most of school, everyone just assumed that he was this happy go lucky boy that liked sports and had no deeper thoughts running through his head. no teacher ever asked him in class what he thought of the book they all had to read over the summer, never did classmates ask him for the help with the homework- even though he usually did well on assignments. no they just turned to him for a good laugh. which was fine, he didnt mind because back then he had you. jungkook remembers you so fondly, when he was at the back of the classroom with his hand held shyly in the air when the teacher asked if anyone hand any opinions. of course, he would never get chosen but as the person who did was answering you’d lean over to him and whisper to ask what he wanted to say and that he would say it to you. he also thought about when you would be struggling on a question and turn to him right away to ask him if he could help you, even when the guy at the top of the class was right there on the other side of you. honestly, jungkook felt so valued when you were in his life, you seemed to really care about his opinions, thoughts and feelings. when everyone turned a blind eye to him one day in school because his pet had passed away, not wanting to talk to the school joker because he was miserable, you came right up to him. you asked what was wrong, gave him a hug and told him everything was going to be alright. but he didnt have you anymore, you flew off somewhere right before the end of school and he lost contact. sure, he met his six new best friends shortly after but it didnt make it easier. in fact, nothing about his life was easy at the moment.  “i had the furthest thing from fun” jungkook replied, in monotone making taeyong rasie an eyebrow at him. deep down he knew why his friend was down, taeyong had saw this happening from the very start. he always tried to laugh it off, make jungkook see some sort of funny side but there wasnt any side that he found laughable.  “if only that fucking girl at the start of the year didnt open her mouth” he sighs before he takes a little look at his friend sat on his bed “you’re such a big softie” 
it was summer now, the sun big and bright in the sky as everyone on campus began talking about the array of summer parties that were already being organised. jungkook made a deal with himself that he would not bet attending a single one of those parties, he hated them anyway he didnt know why he always went to them
“just go to them, dont be boring” oh yeah thats why. he glares over to his friend jimin as they sit on the campus yard - their five other friends right there with them
“i see why he doesnt want to” yoongi mutters, making jungkook happy one of them was finally agreeing with him “they get boring after a while, they play the same music and bring the same alcohol every damn time.” jungkook definitely agreed here, of course the main reason was to avoid hookups and every woman looking at him as if he wasn’t a fully functional human that had feelings but he wasnt going to tell them that. 
“we just dont want him to be alone, none of us are in the same year as him. he needs friends that he can see more often” it annoyed jungkook that namjoon had a point, but no amount of debating was going to make him go to anymore parties
“i have taeyong, ill be fine. plus i see you guys enough, more then enough if you ask me” he was about to laugh at his own joke before taehyung threw his jacket directly at his head. 
“you’re the one begging for us to hang out with you all the time, dont get cocky” the group shares a laugh as jungkook huff and rips the jacket from his head. taehyung was of course correct though, jungkook was always asking the whole group to hang out together which these days hardly ever happened. with all of them busy doing their own thing, it left not much time for them to hang out just the seven of them. if he were really honest with himself he’d say he was jealous, because they all made their own friends that were in the same year as them whereas jungkook only had taeyong. he didn’t even have taeyong that often, he was social butterfly and was always of doing something that he end up telling jungkook about at the end of the day. so not only did no women want to spend time with him outside of having sex, his friends also had better things to be doing as well - college life couldn’t get any better.
“i wouldn’t have to beg if you guys actually wanted to spend time with me anymore” jungkook whined as he threw tae’s jacket back at him. the other boys looked hesitantly at each other, there was no doubt they loved jungkook and wanted to spend all the time they could with him. but they had separate life’s, some had girlfriends which paired with college work didn’t leave much time as it was.
“of course we do, we just have other stuff on too” hoseok tries to be as soft about the topic as possible, not wanting to imply jungkook was less important then their other priorities. the youngest knew that the guys wanted to hang out but had other reasons meaning they couldn’t as often as he’d like, if only he tired harder at the beginning of the year to make other friends
“join a club or something, meet new people” jin suggests and the whole group nods their heads in agreement while jungkook sat glumly, he couldn’t think of anything worse then joining one of the clubs. not that he had anything against the people that attended, but nothing interested him. he wasn’t into sport anymore and he took no fascination in anything else available. he used to be a passionate guy, he enjoyed playing football, reading and painting but now he just- was bored at the thought. in fact, he stopped doing all that when you had left probably because you did all of those things with him. you always came to watch him play, sat on the benches wearing his number top shouting his name loudly. you encouraged him to read different books that he might like and sat at the end of his bed while you both read quietly. and of course you got him into painting, brining two big canvases to his house one day with brushes and paint telling him to get his ass outside so you could paint together. he had so much fun when he was a kid with you, never was a day boring because you made it enjoyable. now he didn’t do any of it anymore, there was no one to encourage him to do so nor do it with him.
“would rather show a pinecone up my ass than join a club” jimin snorts at this making jin smack him over the head for encouraging jungkooks attitude. they hated to see their youngest friend so lonely, especially during his college years. they were supposed to be some of the best in his life but he’s spent most of it getting turned down by women who just want to sleep with him and making zero friends.
“oh new subject, new girl just started she’s in your year jungkook” hoseok says and jungkook was far from interested in this, why would he care that someone new was joining? “and i set you up on a blind date” now he was interested, no he was confused and panicked
“what? why would you do that? i don’t want to go on a blind date! are you crazy?!”
“i believe what you were meant to say was ‘thank you’” hoseok replies as his friends freak out. honestly he was tired of jungkook complaining about the way women on campus viewed him without doing anything about it. he thought jungkook should’ve shut down those rumours about him not wanting to date and just stop sleep around as soon as they circulated if it bothered him that much. but of course he didn’t.
“hoseok, i can’t believe you set me up and why did you leave it this late into the meet up to tell me?!” his older friends shrugged his shoulders
“forgot” jungkook appeared flabbergasted at his friends brazen attitude to setting him up on a date without even asking him first
“do you even know her name?!”
“nope” the younger groaned as all his friends laughed, truly he wanted to get out of this blind date but without as much as a name how the hell was he supposed to do that? he was sure hoseok wasn’t going to cancel it for him. “all i know is, you’re meeting her outside the music building tomorrow. be there for 6pm sharp”
“tomorrow?! and you’re telling me now?”
“at least i didn’t wait until tomorrow to say. stop being a baby it’s just a date” jungkook stayed quiet after this, already getting nervous for whoever hoseok had set him up with.
Tumblr media
it was party time once again later that night, jungkook stuck to his word and decided to stay home rather then attend it. he was sick of the cycle, girl comes up to him- sleeps with him then leaves after and doesn’t want anything else to do with him. it bored him now. so, while everyone else got drunk and had a good time, he was sat at his desk working on a paper that was due no where near soon. his phone buzzed on the table, distracting him from his typing.
jimin 😈 you boring fucker, get your ass to this party 23:46
would rather stick a fork up in my eye goodnight 23:47
once he replied he but his phone back down and leaned back in his chair, honestly he felt like he was missing out. all his friends were there, not just people from his year, so it was possible he’d actually have fun at this party. he just wanted to stick to his plan to avoid that scene, although right now he could’ve really used a drink. with a groan he shut his laptop and began to get ready to head out, already knowing where the party was being held. maybe after this he wouldn’t attend anymore? in a prompt hour he was dressed nicely and in the middle of a big crowd with loud music pumping through his body. the mixed vodka drink in his hand already half finished as he talked with taeyong, well tried to with the music.
“there’s a girl totally staring at you right now” jungkook rolled his eyes, not even bothering to turn around and see who he was talking about. he may have broke the promise to himself to not come out tonight, but he for sure was not going to hook up with anyone. he was done with the embarrassment of being hit and quit, no longer wanting to experience the awkwardness after doing the deed
“good for her, iam going to refill my drink” pushing past everyone as quickly as he could, he entered the busy kitchen to mix together a stronger drink then before.
“oh i thought you would rather shove eating utensils in your eye then be here?” a voice calls from behind him and he chuckles as jimin is stood there, red solo cup in hand.
“well i knew you lot might miss me so decided to ease the pain” his friend rolls his eyes as he sets his drink on the counter
“please, don’t flatter yourself” just as quick as he arrived, jimin was about to leave after someone called his name from a direction jungkook couldn’t quite see. but before he did go, he added “there’s totally a girl staring into your soul right now” again, jungkook didn’t react and didn’t look to see who it was. just nodded to indicate he heard jimin before his friends turned around a left. sighing, he took sip out of his now refilled cup and winced at just how strong he made it. his plan to only come out to hang out with his usual friends went south when he realised they were all drunk and separated out doing their own thing, so he was left standing around on his own like usual.
“here he is” jungkook turned to see taeyong with a girl beside him in a short dress with long hair “you can finally stop asking for him” realising that the girl beside his roommate was brought over for him he rolled his eyes
“so this is the one night stud everyone’s been going on about” he had to suppress a scoff at her words, of course she came over for that reason. that stupid girl from the start of the year really ruined his reputation. “so do you wanna get out of here?”
“no, thanks iam good” the stranger seemed surprised at his words, expecting an opposite answer “taeyong iam leaving” with that jungkook abandons the idea of actually having a good night and decides he’d rather just go back home.
“come on man, it might make you feel better” jungkook stops at the door as taeyong chased after him
“what another one night stand? iam done with the pointless sex, they don’t even engage in small talk anymore, don’t even want to know a single thing about me. iam finished with feeling used, goodbye” with that he left and was certain that this would be the last time he was going to a dorm party.
it was the next day which meant it was time for the dreaded blind date, jungkook had no energy for it. ever since he woke up he was in a foul mood, all his friends were hungover and not answering his texts and he missed an important lecture because he got his schedules mixed up. if he knew who this date was he would be cancelling, but he didn’t and the only other option was to stand them up. he knew he would just feel bad for making the person wait around for him, so at 5pm he begrudgingly began to get ready. he had no idea what the plan even was for this date so he kept it casual; jeans, white shirt and a denim jacket. checking the time it was almost 6pm so he quickly but on some shoes, gathered his keys and wallet and headed off to the music department. he was not looking forward to having to meet up with a complete stranger who’s probably already heard about his ‘reputation’, in all honesty he believed this girl most likely agreed to this date because she wanted to sleep with him. and that wasn’t even because of his ego, it’s literally all any girl propositions when they meet him- he didn’t even think he was that good in bed so why did they all want to? shaking all the thoughts from his head, he stalks to the music department. the campus was pretty empty at this time but a few people were still walking around, at this point he didn’t know whether he wanted to be stood up by this mystery woman. sure it would be embarrassing but at least he would have to go. but that scenario was ditched when he came close to the department and saw the back of girl, looking at the floor clearly waiting for someone. sighing he walks over, lightly tapping the girl on the shoulder. he kept a fake smile on his face, it wasn’t this strangers fault he was in a foul mood. once the girl did turn though, his mouth dropped open in surprise.
“jungkook?” you say in shock, it was him. your childhood best friend was the person you were forcibly set up with tonight. having pretty much just arrived at the campus you wanted to settle in, but after a guy your new roommates knew said he had the perfect person for you to go on a date with, you were pretty much pushed to go through it. you recognised him easily now, however at a party you attended you could’ve sworn you saw him. but in the dim light and pushy crowd, it was hard to tell. you looked at him for so long, trying to follow him around to get a good look but he left before you could go up to him and you felt creepy enough following a possible stranger around you weren’t about to chase after him. now, he was here standing in front of you dressed up to go on a blind date.
“y/n? i can’t believe-” suddenly you two let out synchronised screams as you wrapped your arms around each other, jumping in circles as you hugged one other. a few people stared over at the commotion but neither of you noticed, or cared. jungkook couldn’t fathom the fact his night went from being utterly in a mood to reuniting with one of the best friends he’s ever had. seeing you again made his heart pick up in pace, he finally felt happy again after such a shit first year at college. after finally letting go of each other, both of you couldn’t help the smiles that were planted on your lips.
“out of all the people to be set up with, i get stuck with you” jungkook let out a gasp as he pushes you playfully
“you should think of yourself as lucky” you chuckle at his words before a comfortable silence grows. the pair of you can’t help but just look at each other as your minds comprehend the coincidence.
“well, i guess we should start the date” you break the silence and jungkook nods in agreement. “hey why don’t we go to an arcade, like old times?” when you were kids you two would always go to an arcade on the weekends. at first it was a one off, but slowly it became a weekly thing. the mention of it made jungkook smile even bigger then before
“i’ll show you to a great one, and on the way you need to tell me everything. like what are doing here? how was life abroad? how’s your parents? what are you majoring in?” you laugh as jungkook begins to walk and ask multiple questions. you follow beside him, also thinking of a few questions yourself.
“my parents came back for work, they said i could continue my studies abroad but i wanted to come back. life away was fun but not as good as here, my parents are good and iam doing english literature” you answer his questions and he nods as the pair of you walk side by side, it was still amazing to you that you were right beside him again. you thought about him all the time, you were closer to no one in your life then you were to him. “how have you been? still taking the sports world by storm?” jungkook’s smile faltered a little, forgetting that he was very much into sports the last time you knew him
“no i uh- stopped playing after school” you were surprised at this, there wasn’t many sports he didn’t play in school and he was good at all of them. you were about to ask why when he suddenly pulls you to his other side on the pavement, a cyclist suddenly speeding past. you put a hand over your heart, it suddenly beating faster - which you put down to almost being knocked over not by jungkook pulling you. the pair of you continue walking and you get to ask your question
“why did you stop?” jungkook sighed at the question, not wanting to admit that once you left he slowly gave up on most things. you were the only one to encourage him to continue after all
“i just lost interest” he shrugged the question off but you frowned, you remembered how happy he was every time you watched him play anything. the way he be so excited whenever his team won, why would he lose interest in that. “here’s the arcade, let’s go in” you didn’t realise how lost in thought you were until you looked up at his words and saw the flashing lights from outside the window. following him inside you looked around at all the games, memories of all those weekends together as kids came to mind as you did so.
“dance revolution is first we know this” you declare making jungkook laugh and follow you to the dancing machine in the corner of the place. it was like you were never apart, so comfortable with each other. he vividly remembers how obsessed you were with the stupid dance game, having to go on it as soon as you walked through the doors each week. he joins you on the platform as you slot in a coin a begin to search through the random songs on the program. you seem to be looking at one for an awfully long time making jungkook give you a side eye
“that says extremely hard, no chance keep looking” smirking you select confirm and jungkook groans at your defiance. “really?”
“come on it’ll be funny” you justify as the song loads up and immediately you see a bunch of arrows filling the screen, making you regret your choice a little. the stomping on the floor is loud as you and jungkook try and hit every arrow to the fast paced song. you can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the pair of you must look, jumping around to try not miss a beat. your breathing gets harder as your legs move rapidly, looking over to his side you see that jungkook is beating you. “how the fuck are you doing this?” you shout out, noticing he’s hardly missed an arrow, his score much higher then yours
“iam just too good at everything, what can i do?” he breaths out, before hitting a combo that you ultimately miss at the same time. sighing in relief when the song comes to an end the two of you rest your hands on your knees as you bend over to catch your breath. a big loser sign appears on your side of the screen while jungkooks side displays a green winner.
“unbelievable” you don’t think you’ve ever beaten jungkook at this game, you thought maybe after all this time you had a chance but still he came out victorious. the pair of you walk away from the machine, breathing back to normal as you look for your next game. the two of you spent the next hour and half playing around in the arcade, both feeling like kids all over again. you were happy you actually agreed to go on this blind date and jungkook definitely felt the same. each day of college made him want to drop out more and more, but like usually when he was at his lowest you came to the rescue to pick him back up again. waking out of the arcade together, laughing mindlessly, the pair of you take off back to campus together.
“iam happy you chose to come back, honestly- i haven’t been having a good time at college” you grow upset to hear this, you assumed jungkook would be enjoying his time well you hoped he was.
“you haven’t? jungkook what’s wrong?” your concern flattered him, you were always the caring type especially when it came to him. though he didn’t know if he really wanted to go into detail about what exactly was giving him problems.
“well it’s just, i’ve had this issue for while at the moment.” you stayed silent, hoping this would prompt him to continue talking. wrapping your arms around yourself as you did so “this is so embarrassing but at the start of the year i got with this girl, she assumed i explicitly wanted a one night stand so began telling her friends that. they then told their friends and so on, it’s gotten to the point where literally no girl on campus wants anything to do with me unless it’s sex” you nodded at his explanation, feeling awful for him knowing that ever since your were friends he seemed the romantic type. always going on about wanting to have a wife and kids as soon as possible, you thought it was weird when you were younger but as you grew up you just realised that his parents were so in love that he just wanted to be like them. “plus i have like no friends in my year” he finishes and you felt so sorry for him, he was such a good person when you were younger- he didn’t deserve to feel this low when it should be the best years of his life
“iam sorry to here that jungkook, but look those are just silly rumours. don’t let people who want something from you involved in your life, if they wanted to get to know you they would. and iam in your year now, if you ask nice enough, i might be your friend” he laughs at you, wondering how you always manage to make him smile so easily.
“always so wise y/n” he says as you two catch sight of the campus, it not being too far away. jungkook couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at having to leave you so soon after meeting you again.
“let’s exchange numbers and meet again soon, iam so glad we got to see each other again” smiling jungkook pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it over to you, watching happily as you punch your number in and give yourself a call. handing it back you give him a smile before continuing to walk onto campus, jungkook not far behind you before he’s by your side. one side of the campus contained the boys dorm and the other had the girls, you stopped in the middle of the yard to say goodbye but jungkook beat you
“let me walk you back. it’s dark” his sweetness made your heart melt, he was the same sweetheart as he always was
“i’ll be fine, thanks though. you get home safe, from what i hear girls here go crazy for one night with you”. they might jump you on your way back”jungkook groans at your teasing, you were still the same as you always was- sarcastic and playful. you laugh as you walk backwards, giving him a wave before finally turning around and walking away. he watches you walk off, sighing when you turn a corner and he could no longer see you.
the next morning jungkook had a bounce in his step as he walks over to meet his friends in the yard, only hoseok, jimin and taehyung were able to make it. the smile is bright on the youngest face as he seats on the grass, making his three friends look at him confused.
“why is your face doing that?” taehyung inquires making jungkook give him an odd look, but taehyung’s face remains serious
“doing what?”
“like, smiling and shit?” his friends are even more surprised when jungkook laughs, not exactly the type of reaction they normally get
“i can’t smile?” the three men look at each other before answering in sync
“no” jungkook rolls his eyes, but after spending the evening with you yesterday he was just in too good of a mood to get upset.
“so, blind date went well” hoseok asks, eyebrow raised as he was sure jungkook was adamant that he didn’t want to go
“actually yes. the girl you set me up with was actually y/n, remember the one i told you about?” his friends faces a shocked at the news, they were beginning to think you weren’t real with how often jungkook spoke about you
“no fucking way? the girl you talk about all the bloody time? that’s crazy” jimin adds to the conversation, jungkook’s smile growing bigger that the thought of you
“oh my god you’re so in love!” taehyung exclaims making jungkook widen his eyes, he loved you sure but it was definitely platonic- right?
“no no, she’s my childhood best friend. iam just glad she’s here” hoseok narrows his eyes at his friend, he knew for sure that no one could react like this over a friend. he wasn’t going to mention anything about it though, but he knew that with time jungkook would be coming right back to them saying he was in love - he would bet money on it
“jungkooks wife aside” the youngest was about to contest but jimin was already talking “namjoon says that he is hosting his very own party this weekend” the came as a surprise to the other boys, none of them had ever organised a dorm party. sure they were happy to go to party’s where they didn’t have to clean up the mess or worry about university employees busting them- but to host one was a completely different story
“why on earth would he want to do that?” taehyung inquires and jungkook is also wondering the same thing and was waiting for jimin to reply, but as soon as he starts speaking he can’t hear a word because he sees you walking past not too far from them. he zones out completely as he watches you walk around campus, thinking how strange it is to just casually see you again. without thinking, he’s on his feet jogging towards you before he lost sight of where you were going. his friends turn their heads to see where he was going, utterly confused as to why he was just practically running off.
“goodbye to you too jungkook” hoseok mutters making his friends laugh before they continue their own conversation. meanwhile jungkook just managed to catch up to you, tapping you on the shoulder making you stop in your tracks. you smile upon seeing him, happy that you could just run into at any time or see him whenever you wanted.
“did you run?” you ask with a laugh as you watch him pant a little to catch his breath
“oh no i just- jogged a little. you’re a fast walker” he gets out and you chuckle at him, waiting for him to compose himself before speaking “i just wanted to say hi, ask if you have any plans this weekend?”
“oh well apparently someone in third year is hosting a party, my roommate wants me to go with her” you explain and jungkook was more happy then he thought he would to hear you were going. but given the fact he promised he’d be going to no more party’s, that was surely out the window if you were going to be there
“that’s one my best friends! please go otherwise iam practically going to be stranded if i go, i always get ditched”
“don’t you worry, i’ll be there to keep you company” you assure and for some reason jungkook feels relief, with you back he felt like he could finally begin to enjoy college again now that he actually had a friend he could see often. “i have a lecture so i better be going but, if you’re free later we should hang out?” jungkook was nodding before actually answering with words
“yeah that’ll be great, i’ll text you” you give him a smile before one of your friends come up to you telling you to hurry up and walk to class with her
“see you jay” jungkook could’ve swore his heart leapt at the way you casually used your old nickname for him. he almost forgot about it up until now, now it felt like the smile would never leave his lips. walking back over to his friends, they stopped chatting to stare at him as he sat himself back down- smile even wider then before.
“if that’s what he looks like after one conversation with her can i have her?” jungkook’s smile disappears and he glares at taehyung for his comment making jimin and hoseok laugh
“that would be a no” hoseok chuckles but jungkook doesn’t look too impressed, he knew he didn’t like you that way- of course not. but over his dead body would he let any of his friends get with you, absolutely not. he loved his them sure, he knew none of them would hurt you, but you were his friend and friends were always off limits “how did you too become so close anyway?” hoseok was curious, ever since he became friends with jungkook he always mentioned this girl who was his best friend who he missed. they didn’t even know how you two became friends though despite the fact he always taked about her. at one point it began to annoy all the guys, because he just never shut up about you, any situation they were in he would always just have to say how he had done the same thing with you before or it reminded him of you somehow. but they could see how much you meant to him, so they just let him ramble on.
“we met when we were like, five. i was sad on this school trip because i dropped my ice cream, she gave me hers” jungkook laughed at the memory, he remembers how his mum said after that not a day went by where he wouldn’t talk about this girl who gave him ice cream. from then on their parents got close and always arranged play dates for the two of them and they stayed friends right until she had to leave.
“sounds like a romantic movie synopsis” jimin jokes and once again jungkook is left scowling, the couple jokes showed no sign of stopping with them and jungkook knew they would only continue now he’d be seeing you more often. suddenly, his phone buzzes making him pull it out of his hoodie pocket and looking at the message he smiles slightly
y/n 🌸: nice to see you today. wanna meet at 7 and get some dinner?
jungkook: great seeing you too. that sound great, outside the music department again?
y/n 🌸: perfect meet you there
after messaging he pops his phone back in his pocket and looks up to see his friends staring at him, he gives them a confused look
Tumblr media
you were happily applying some finishing touches with your makeup as you got ready for dinner when you friend sits next to you on the floor in front of your mirror.
“excited for your date?” she says making you roll your eyes and screw you mascara back up
“not a date” you reply as you put away your make up and mess around with your hair, making sure it looked nice
“we’ll be careful with jungkook” giving her a side eye you wonder why on earth you’d have to be careful around jungkook. her comment annoyed you a little, he was your childhood best friend and after seeing him again he seemed to be exactly the same as he was when you were kids “he just likes to bang, doesn’t do relationships” now that didn’t sound like him at all, and you knew it wasn’t he had already told you about these silly rumours.
“and how would you know this, heard him say it?” you decided to quiz her, after accusing someone of that you should definitely have absolute proof of it. you remember how upset he seemed when telling you what the girls on campus thought of him.
“well no but-”
“exactly” you cut her off “ive known the boy since i was a kid, he’s honestly a nice guy. don’t believe everything you hear” y/f/n seemed a little surprised at this, it was a known thing around campus that jungkook was the type of guy to just want a one night stand. “right, iam going.” you say your goodbyes and head off to the meeting spot you agreed upon and walking up to it you noticed jungkook was already there and waiting. looking at the time on your phone, you saw it was still ten minutes until seven. turning around, he saw you walking over and smiled.
“here she is” you chuckle at this and give him a little hug as a greeting, how could anyone give you a warning about such a lovely guy?
“have you been waiting long?” that was something that hadn’t changed about him either, always early or on time.
“no, not long. where would you like to eat?” you think for a little but realised you couldn’t really think of anywhere, most places you used to go closed when you left.
“is that diner we used to go to all the time still open?” jungkook seemed to get excited at the mention of the place, remember how you two frequented that diner often after school.
“yes let’s go there” as jungkook began walking, you followed next to him thinking about what your roommate said. you didn’t know whether to bring it up, not wanting to upset him about this situation more then he was.
“you know, my roommate warned me about you earlier” his eyebrows raised a little in surprise at this but he ultimately knew exactly why she did that “i actually got a little annoyed with her, she seemed stumped when i asked her if she actually heard you say you only want one night stands.” the pair of you laughed at this and jungkook felt happy that you were in his corner to defend him. his other friends never came in contact with the people spreading rumours in your year and taeyong seemed to just confirm them to help his roommate get laid
“well that was nice of you but don’t feel the need to defend me, i don’t think those rumours will ever stop” your heart hurt at how sad he looked, it was a known fact that you had a soft spot for him and you probably always would. even the reason you became friends was because you felt upset looking at the crying boy who lost his ice cream.
“no that’s what friends do, especially when the rumours are fucking lies” he was a bit shocked to see you so worked up over it, but you’re a good person you always were so it didn’t surprise him that much.
“my saviour” jungkook jokes and it makes you giggle but deep down he was being honest, he didn’t think there was one time when he was in trouble where you didn’t come to the rescue. he dropped his ice cream? you gave him yours, no one listened to him in class? you listened, people ignored him when he was upset? you comforted him, he had no motivation? you gave it to him- and now people believed rumours about him and you were there defending him. jungkook felt relieved to have you in his life again. you two were still laughing together when you walked into the diner together and taking a seat by the window, exactly where you used to sit
“i can’t believe my eyes” the diner’s owner came straight up to the table, knowing exactly who just walked through door. he would never forget the faces of the two people who filled the place daily. “why do i never see you anymore?” the older man quizzes making the two of you laugh
“someone decided to move away from me” jungkook states, pointing an accusing finger at you, making you roll your eyes.
“well iam glad you’re back, will you be wanting the usual?” honestly you couldn’t believe the man even remembered you, let alone the old order the two of you used to get.
“jungkook, you want the usual?” he nods excitedly at your question and you smiled agreeing as the owner walks to the back to put your order in “how on earth does he remember what we used to get?”
“well seems as the usual order is a large pizza and a side of fries, it shouldn’t be hard to remember” jungkook says and you chuckle “but iam surprised he still remember us, surely we’ve changed a little”
“nah, you’re still a baby face” jungkook gives a fake scowl, narrowing his eyes at you
“i don’t have a baby face” you can’t help the smile that grows on your lips, looking at him pout as it did.
“it’s not a bad thing, you’re cute” jungkook felt his heart leap at the compliment and it took him by surprise, why the fuck was his heart rate picking up over a stupid comment? his mind was working overtime while you didn’t really seem to notice him having an internal freak out. “here comes the drinks, he even remembered that”
“one coke and one milkshake, enjoy kids” the owner himself bought the drinks out and placed them on the table. you thanked him before taking a sip and jungkook leans forward to use the straw sticking out of his milkshake, not trusting his now shaky hands to lift the glass.
“so, tell me about the new friends you’ve made” you ask, wondering who he’s been hanging out with since you left. clearing his throat, he tries to ignore the random nervousness.
“well, i met these six guys after you left. we’re pretty close and then i have my roommate but i don’t see him often”
“ooh seven friends, maybe you could set me up?” jungkook suddenly froze, caught off guard at your words. you on the other hand had a sour taste in your mouth as soon as you said it, something about the thought of being set up made you feel strange. “iam joking, don’t want to be set up” jungkook nodded, a little relieved but he had no idea why he was getting worked up over the thought of you dating. you were just a friend, what was the problem?
“don’t think any of them would be your type, they’d just get on your nerves” he decided to crack a joke, trying to steer the conversation away from setting you up. he noticed that the owner was bringing your food over and he was glad there was a distraction from whatever was going through his mind.
“enjoy your food, and you better be back again after this” the owner orders and the both of you laugh, saying that you will. immediately the two of you dig in, pulling a slice of pizza each.
“this feels like old times” you comment making jungkook smile, between going to the arcade and now the diner- it truly felt like he was a kid again.
“it really does, just reminds me of all the times we were here before”
“jungkook stop!” you yell as you run into the diner to stop your best friend from pulling of your school tie for the millionth time.
“the knot is so tight can you even undo it?” he laughs as he follows you into the diner, sitting down opposing you in a booth. you look down and begin tugging at your school tie, jungkook having pulled it down so much on the walk here that the knot had tightened up.
“you’re so annoying” you huff making him laugh harder before a worker comes over to the two of you, smiling at your antics
“good to see you kids back, let me guess a pizza and fries to share?” the waitress had seen you two come in often, she always worked the early afternoon shift which was perfect timing for when all the kids finished school.
“yes please also a banana milkshake and a coke” jungkook says with a smile and the waitress nods before waking off to prepare the order. “my mum invited you over for dinner this weekend” you excitedly cheered and clapped at this
“her food is so good, iam there”
“excuse me you’re meant to be happy to spend time with me not eat the food” jungkook says and you shrug your shoulders
“i spend too much time with you, the food is more exciting”
“you know my mum is very happy to hear you’re back” jungkook says, the pizza was eaten and plate pushed to the side now the fries rest in between you two as the pair of you eat them.
“is she? did you tell her i was back?” jungkook shakes his head, remembering the phone call he got from his mum the day before
“actually your mum told her, apparently they’ve already had a wine night” you laugh at this, you should’ve known your mum would get back in contact straight away. the pair of your mums might have been even closer then you and jungkook
“of course they have”
“she’s invited you round as soon as you’re free by the way, she’s very excited” jungkook watched you nod at his words as you munched on some fries, he felt his heart melting at the sight. ever since you came back he finally felt like he was having a good time like he was supposed to be at uni.
Tumblr media
you barely had time to see jungkook after your dinner together, the work load under you was too big to be having any spare time. the next time you saw him it was the day of namjoon’s party and you found yourself looking for him a soon as you entered the dorm. however the crowd of people all bunched together made it extremely difficult so you stuck to your roommate and followed her to go get a drink.
“are you looking for him?” your roommates question took you by surprise, was it really that obvious?
“who?” deciding to play it dumb didn’t exactly work out as she laughed and shook her head at you, although you don’t know why you were pretending not to know who she was on about- was it really so bad to want to see your long lost childhood bestie?
“you know who”
on the other side of the dorm, jungkook was almost on the top of his toes as he searched around the mountains of bodies in front of him to try and find you making hoseok side eye him.
“oh my god hi y/n!” hoseok loudly saying your name makes jungkook’s head turned sharply in his direction, only to not see you anywhere.
“you’re so whipped” his friend laughs and jungkook roles his eyes, a little bit disappointed that you weren’t actually there
“whatever” jungkook mumbles as he sips his drink when a hand touches his shoulder making him almost jump. for a split second he thought it was you, so he turns with a smile but his lips turn down instantly when he sees a random girl.
“wanna dance?” hoseok can’t help the chuckle that escapes him as he watches his friend get propositioned by a random girl, jungkook almost looked scared
“no, thanks” he turns on his heels instantly, leaving his back to the girl and now hoseok laughs wholeheartedly but jungkook doesn’t find anything funny about the situation. weirdly, all he can think about is you and where the fuck you were. you said you were definitely coming and would keep him company, which he needs now more then ever as all his friends have disappeared and hoseok is one more shot away from running off from him to either hook up or throw up. pulling out his phone he was about to send you a message when a face appears in his gaze as he looks down at the lit up screen. he laughs as he sees you staring up at him and steps back, you chuckle and give him a hug. hoseok eyes the situation and instead of introducing himself, he sneaks off.
“miss me?” you ask stepping away and jungkook smiles down at you, he very much did actually but he wasn’t about to let that information out
“nah not really” he couldn’t help but chuckle as you gasp and place a hand over your chest
“well i guess i’ll be going” you turn but don’t get far when jungkook wraps his hand around your arm to pull you back
“no no, you’re not leaving me alone i only have hos-” jungkook turns but the space his friends occupied is gone and now he just looks insane “apparently i have no one but you now”
“ah just like old times, iam your only friend” the pair of you laugh together but you become very aware of a lot of eyes directly looking at you. it wasn’t everyone around you, but a hefty number of them were looking. “do you wanna get some air?” jungkook seemed to be relieved that you asked and nodded his head before leading the way out. you tried you hardest to stay behind him but with people constantly pushing past or drunkenly stumbling, it was difficult to keep close. huffing as you almost trip for the third time, you squeeze past a tall guy and grab onto the back of jungkook’s hooding making him halt his movements and look down at where you gripped him, his heart beat picking up “sorry i’ve had enough of trying to keep up with your long ass legs” he chuckles at you and shakes his head before moving again, you holding tightly onto him this time. finally making it out the back door and away from the crowd, you let go on jungkook and follow him as he walks all the way to the back of the house where a hammock was hung. it was silent for a little while the pair of you tried to sit on the hammock with falling out.
“iam sorry they were all staring” jungkook broke the small silence and you look to him next you, upset at his apology. it annoyed you that he felt the need to say sorry for something that wasn’t even his fault
“don’t apologise, why do you have to be sorry?”
“people always do when a girl is talking to me, i just don’t want them thinking badly of you. that you’re a fool for spending time with me” jungkook looked so ashamed and it broke you’re heart. unless this was some long con from him, he was exactly the same as when you knew him.
“i don’t care what people think about me jungkook, iam just happy to have my best friend back” a smile decorated his lips as he looked at you, the realisation that you were back by his side seemed so sweet at this moment.
“jungkook’s reeled in another one!” the sound of a voice shouting across the garden makes you and jungkook frown, sure it was drunk rambling but just the thought of someone talking about women in such a way had you rumbled
“at least one guy can, where’s your catch of the day?” you shout back, embarrassing the guy as he stumbles back into the main bulk of the party. it was childish to shout back, but you couldn’t help it. jungkook couldn’t help but lean his head back and laugh, he knew the guy shouting- he was at every party. always got too drunk and too handsy. “was that too childish?” you chuckle as you look over to jungkook next to you
“no, i enjoyed it” smiling to yourself you look back out to the party before looking back over to jungkook.
“will your friends be looking for you? i don’t want to take up all your time” he shakes his head before moving to sit up properly
“there probably too drunk by now to remember who i am. plus id rather catch up with you then pulled around by them, they’re to sociable for me” chuckling at this you take a moment to enjoy the comfortable silence that was growing. your thoughts of the past overtook for a moment and you couldn’t help but reminisce
“isn’t it crazy how we found each other again? i always regretted losing contact with you” slowly jungkook raises his head to look down at you on his side, his gaze so soft.
“i regret it too, i wish i had you here from the start” a smile found its way to your lips as you returned his gaze, the hustle of the party long forgotten
“jungkook? can i ask you a question?”
“of course” you take a beat to think if you wanted to ask this certain thing, but ultimately you decided you needed to
“why did you stop playing football you enjoyed so much? you never gave me a proper answer when we met again” he was taken back by the question, mostly because he didn’t want to answer it. you were the reason, he didn’t necessarily blame you for his lack of ambition to continue playing- but as soon as you weren’t by his side to encourage him, his passion was gone.
“i got old, played like shit” a snort made its way out of your nose at this excuse, jungkook chuckled along already knowing you could see through his bullshit reason.
“you have a natural talent at dodging questions, tell me the real reason” sighing, he looked away from you and to his feet. he wasn’t one to enjoy heart to hearts particularly, but this was you asking and there was no way he could deny you anything you wanted.
“y/n, when you left i tried to carry on- it just wasn’t the same. you were the only one to push me to carrying on playing as many sports as i did, without you there it just- seemed pointless” to say you were shocked was an understatement, you never expected that to be his answer and you felt- guilty. sure you had no choice, your family were moving away, you couldn’t stay even if you wanted to. but you still felt responsible, jungkook was so talented which is why to supported so wholeheartedly
“iam, sorry jungkook”
“it wasn’t your fault”
“that’s not all iam sorry for,” he looked over at you silently, having no idea what you meant
“iam sorry you lost your spark for life , iam sorry those stupid rumours spread and iam sorry i never stayed in contact” his eyes were suddenly glassy, the weight of all he was holding in felt like it suddenly released. “i can see that that twinkle behind those eyes has gone, but you deserve the best jungkook and iam determined to get that spark back to you” he stayed quiet, worried that if he even tired to saying anything his voice would break. “now, let’s get back and actually get this party”
Tumblr media
two weeks after the party and in the pitch dark of the evening, jungkook found himself stood across from you on the campus football field. there was the distant sound of a party happening nearby, which is where he would’ve usually found himself in the past, now he couldn’t help but chuckle as he was far from the party and out in the cold watching you fumble around with an american football.
“do you even know the rules?” he asks with a little laugh and you stop messing with the ball and place it under your arm to look up at him
“no” you shrug “but i don’t need to. this is all about you buddy and getting back into the action- catch” you throw the ball at him suddenly making him jump and put his hands out. he grasps the ball momentarily but it slips from him and tumbles onto the floor “see that! you can’t even catch anymore” huffing he leans down to pick up the fallen ball before straightening back up to look at you
“you caught me by surprise! of course i didn’t get it” your hands find your hips as you look at him before shaking your head at him
“oh yeah because on the field when the opposition throws the ball they’re gonna go ‘hey jungkook pre warning iam throwing the ball now, ready to try and intercept,?” he scowls stop you momentarily but you know he’s trying not to smile at your sarcasm “younger jungkook would’ve caught that” you tease making jungkook roll his eyes at you
“younger jungkook also played and trained multiple times every week”
“younger jungkook would not have excuses, then again he was also hotter so-” your sentence is cut short as he light throws the ball at you jokingly and you catch it as you laugh. “ok, jokes aside. does it feel at least nice to be back on the field?” a little smile comes upon his face as he looked around the dimly lit field, quietly thinking about how much time he used to spend playing.
“you know what, it kinda does” he jumps a little when you clap your hands together once after putting the ball under your armpit and begin walking away from the field
“and that’s day one complete let’s go eat” you call out and he quickly rushes to your side as you continue to walk of the field
“wait that’s it? we’re not gonna throw the ball around or anything?” you stop in your tracks making his movement halt too, turning you look up at him
“jungkook, this isn’t about jumping straight back into playing. it’s about how you feel, before now you said you fell out of love it- forcing you to play immediately isn’t my aim. i want you to remember all those feeling you had when you played all the time. now, let’s eat” you finish your little speech and walk away while jungkook stands dumbfounded a little but shakes his head with a smile and runs to catch up with you.
three weeks after the party and jungkook opened his dorm door to find you stood there with a big bag and canvas’ under your arms.
“let’s paint” you say simply before walking away and jungkook rushes to put on some shoes and grab his key before chasing after you. he follows you all the way to some greenery space on campus where you stop and set down your things.
“you could’ve at least give me time to prepare myself” he mumbles out before sitting next to you and you chuckle as you unwrap all the things you had brought
“you need to prepare yourself to paint? weirdo” rolling his eyes he scoots a little closer to you to have a good look at what you were pulling out your bag. “okay! two canvases each, we have normal, water colour and charcoal. take your pick” with that you poured a little water in a dish and opened the water colour set before painting away quietly. looking at you momentarily, jungkook leans forward and grabs the normal paint with a paint brush. looking around him he decides to just paint the tree directly in his line of view. as the brush strokes sweep across the campus he embraces the calm silence that sweeps over the pair of you. it was so peaceful and it took the time to appreciate it, looking quickly over at you he noted how focused you looked. your eyebrows furrowed a little as bring the canvas in your hand a little closer to your face as you work. a slight breeze came, blowing your hair slightly and before he realised it- he was staring at you in a sort of a trance.
“okay iam done!” your voice made him blink a couple times before he quickly looks away, clearing his throat he looks over down at his canvas “wow that’s great” you compliment and he looks up to see you eyeing his work that laid in front of him.
“it’s just a tree” he shrugs but meets your eyes and you don’t look too impressed at his dismissal
“a very well painted and pretty tree” you say sternly making him chuckle, his cheeks warming slightly at your words.
“ok we’ll let me see yours” he leans forward but you put your canvas up to your chest before he gets the chance to see. he raised an eyebrow at you and goes to grab it but you stand making him look up at you “come on, let me see”
“hm iam good” his teeth catch his bottom lip before he stands up, there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes and you narrow yours at him “jungkook” you warn but he smiles before taking a swipe at the canvas and you quickly step away
“hey let me see!” you laugh before running away and without thinking he goes after you, laughing with you as he tries to grab your work but you move it out of his reach as he chases you around.
“oh my god it’s like iam watching a netflix original chick flick” taehyung mutters to yoongi as the pair watch you run around from opposite the greenery
“hm, it’s good to see him like that” yoongi says with a shrug of his shoulders “but my ass is she just his childhood best friend, i bet they’re together by the end of the year” taehyung looks over to his friend and back to the pair of you still chasing each other around like children
“end of the year?” he questions making yoongi look to him “i say within the next two months, bet fifty on it” the older chuckles and puts his hand out to initiate a shake. taehyung smiles and puts his hand in his and the pair shake on it.
“you forget how shy that kid is, really think he’s confessing by two months time?” yoongi asks making taehyung’s smile drop at the realisation “easiest fifty i ever made”
four weeks after the party and you stand opposite jungkook at the club sign up stand with your arms across your chest as you eye each other.
“iam not doing it” he states, with a hint of amusement in his tone. the football volunteer looks at the pair of you across the table as you have your little debate
“it’s just try outs jungkook stop being a baby, you like playing just do it” he tilts his head at you, smile itching to come out. he wondered why you were dragging him out of his dorm at 10am and was not that surprised when you led him all the way to the sign up table.
“i haven’t played in ages y/n, there’s no point i’ll be no good” you scoff taking him by surprise, in reality he was dying to sign his name on that piece of paper but his nerves wouldn’t allow him to do it. he didn’t wanna get out there and make a fool of himself, everyone already had certain thoughts about him and he didn’t wanna add ‘shit football player’ to there list of reasons to talk about him
“i know you want to and who cares if you haven’t played in a while? it’s not the fucking pros, iam signing you up” you conclude before leaning down to the table and picking up a pen but he rushed to snatch the pen from your grip
“okay okay wait!” he rushes out and you look up to him, waiting for him to speak “fine, i will go to try out if… you show me that painting you did last week” there’s a moment of silence as you contemplate this, ultimately you just wanted to see him back out there.
“ok” you sigh “sign your stupid name and i’ll show you when you’re finished with try outs” smiling jungkook scribbles his name and student number on this sheet before placing the pen down and looking back at you, seeing such a genuine smile on your lips- his heart skips a beat making him let out a shaky breath.
“ok breakfast time” he gets out quickly before brushing past you and heading off. you move your feet quickly to catch up with him and the volunteer watches the pair of you before looking away.
“he’s so in love with her” he mentions to his friend sat beside him who nods in agreement. once you catch up to him you pat his back making him look down to you
“thank you for signing up, i know it was properly nerve racking. you’re gonna do great i promise and i’ll be there watching” he didn’t like the way his heart rate raised slightly with excitement at the thought of you coming to watch.
“well thank you for pushing me, i guess iam nervous” he lets out as the pair of you walk onto the campus cafe.
“it’s ok to be nervous actually it’s a good thing” you say as the pair of you sit at a table close to the big windows overlooking the campus
“really?” he questions, sitting opposite you
“of course, look when i came back you didn’t have your little spark that made you- you. to see you have these feelings for the game again, it’s just nice to see” for a moment he just lets your words process, how you let out such nice words so easily took the air out of his lungs.
“hey buddy long time no see!” looking up he sees namjoon with a grin and jin by his side walking over to the table and gets up with a smile to greet them
“what’s up guys?” he says before looking back over to you “oh this is y/n, y/n these are my friends namjoon and jin” he introduces and you stand, giving each a friendly hug before you all sit back down
“wow so you’re the guys who took over my babysitting?” you joke making them laugh and jungkook roll his eyes at you
“it’s nice to finally meet you, jungkook never shut up about-” jin jumps slightly feeling jungkook’s foot meet his knee under the table making him scowl at the younger one
“you know it’s so nice to see jungkook happy again. i noticed your name on the football sign up sheet, good for you man” namjoon says, a proud hand patting jungkook on his shoulder making you smile fondly. you couldn’t help the warm feeling that brewed up watching him talk to his friends about getting back on the field.
“well we’ll be there to cheer you on buddy” jin says and you don’t fail to notice the smile that is planted on jungkooks face
“come on guys it’s only try outs” he try’s to dismiss but no one at the table lets him
“and you’re gonna be the best there, and we will be there to see it” you grab his hand momentarily that rested upon the table and namjoon and jin share a look, fighting the smirks they wanted to let out
“well we better be going, nice to meet you y/n and jungkook- see you out on the field” namjoon says before him and jin get up to leave the cafe.
Tumblr media
it was try out day and jungkook couldn’t fight the nerves that were bubbling in his stomach as he walked with his duffle bag to the field. sure, it wasn’t a proper game but he couldn’t fight the feeling that he was just gonna mess the whole thing up and look stupid.
“you look like you’re gonna shit your guts out” he jumped at the sudden voice beside him and looked to find your grin
“gee thanks y/n” you chuckle before grabbing his upper arm to stops his movement
“you’re gonna be great ok? there’s loads of guys out there that have properly never played before and just wanted to try a new club. you’re not going to look stupid, i promise” smiling at you he nods, he wanted to reply with words but he couldn’t pull any together to truly show his gratitude for just how wonderful you’ve been since you came back. In just over a month now he managed to not attended any parties, get his grades up and get back on field. He knew you were the sole reason for all of this, but he just didn’t know how to thank you properly.
“there he is, football coaches wet dream!” jimin yells from quite a distance, making people turn there heads which made jungkook’s cheeks burn up ever so slightly as all his friends made there way to him and you
“really? you’re all here? it’s just try out guys this is embarrassing” jungkook whines making you chuckle and hoseok gasps sarcastically placing his palm over his chest
“we are not embarrassing you little shit- we’re supportive” he concludes before patting jungkook on his back “now you go warm up, the guys are already on the field. we will take care of y/n” jungkook glances at you for a moment and you nod affirmation that it’s fine
“have fun” you smile “iam off to get some embarrassing stories from your friends” rolling his eyes, jungkook walks off onto the field while you walk off with all six of his close friends, remembering he clearly classed his roommate as friend you grew confused as to why he wasn’t here “jungkook mentioned that he had roommate who is his friend but doesn’t see often. why isn’t he here?” you notice them all share silent looks between themselves as if having a telepathic conversation with on another.
“well um, his roommate isn’t the greatest of friends he could have. just wants jungkook to get laid all the time, thinks it’s the greatest fucking thing ever.” yoongi grumbles out the you all take seats just off the field. you frown at this but don’t have time to add some follow up questions
“y/n he doesn’t actually care about jungkook in any other way. in fact, since jungkook hasn’t gone to any parities with him for while, he’s basically dropped him” taehyung goes onto explain and you take a moment to process. maybe that’s why jungkook said he never saw him often? if all this roommate cared about was partying and sex, then he definitely would be avoiding jungkook at this point in time.
“what a fucking prick” you mutter out and the guys are thrown off slightly before laughing. in all honestly half of them have never met you and they knew just how much you meant to jungkook. they didn’t wanna risk telling you anything that he didn’t want you to know, but with the way you’re talking and so easily taking his side- you’d definitely fit in well
“oh he is, in all honesty we reckon that he just got close to him in the first place because he was jealous of him. i mean, everyone was talking about jungkook when he started- they completely loved him” namjoon explained and this had you thinking. jungkook had such a bad time because of those stupid rumours and he was actually loved at first by everyone? it must have been hard for him to know who actually wanted to be friends and who just wanted to say they knew him.
“well at least he has all of you guys, i can tell how much you love him” the all smile fondly at you before a loud whistles blows making you all turn your attention to the field
“he has you too now, we you love him just as much” jimin says nicely before turning to try and spit jungkook on the field.
an hour later and all of you rushed over to jungkook as the coach dismisses everyone. “you were great out there! it’s like you never left man” namjoon slings an arm around jungkook as the younger drinks a hefty amount out his water bottle, panting in between sips
“my stamina is so fucking bad now” you lean up on your toes slightly and slap the back of his head, not too hard making jump and whip to face you
“stop being so hard on yourself and take the compliment” the boys chuckle at the scene in front of them
“i like her, let’s keep her” jin let’s out making you smile while jungkook gathers his things up before slinging his bag over his shoulders before you all begin walking off together.
“how about we all grab a bite to eat?” you suggest and you never thought a simple sentence would get six guys so fired up in an instance. they all muttered between them about what to eat and where to go- it sparked quite a little debate. while they all discussed jungkook pulls you back behind them a little and you look to him.
“do you really think i did okay out there? i wasn’t to rusty? didn’t do anything stupid?” if he didn’t seem so evidently worried you would’ve slapped him again but you knew it wasn’t time to be messing around
“jungkook you were really good, i know it was just simple practices and all but you really shined out there.” he smiles at you and seems to go to say something else but someone else get ahead of him
“we’re getting pizza losers come on” jimin shouts from the little distance that was created between the pair of you and the group.
Tumblr media
“you know you still haven’t shown me you’re painting?” a week after try outs your were sat opposite jungkook on your bed . both of your legs cross crossed. it had been a couple hours since he first arrived, the time filled with different youtube videos, snacks and games. the current form of entertainment, uno
“i was hoping you wouldn’t remember” you mutter as you place a green five onto of the pile in-between the pair of you
“what is with you not wanting to show me? you are good at art, always have been. you took all of those classes” jungkook says as he places down a green seven onto the pile and you shrug, it wasn’t about the quality of the painting more of the meaning
“ugh okay fine” you say before placing your cards face down on your bed before getting up “don’t look at my cards” you point a finger in his direction and he laughs before you turn and begin to rummage your desk drawers. grabbing it from the back you close the drawer back up and turn back to him, eyes meeting his clearly excited face. “look away” you say handing it to him, facing down. he smiles as flips it as you sit back down, his face was hard to read but jungkook was stunned as his eyes met an outline portrait of his own face made of an array of bright colours with a couple of paint splashes on the edges of the canvas. but right where his pupils should be, we’re little stars. “i was going to give it to you in a couple months time, you know when you got your little spark back and fell back in love with the small things in life again. but after seeing you at tryouts i don’t mind giving it to you now”
you’re explanation floored him, he felt his heart tighten in his chest. he knew he had good friends but no one had ever done something so… so thoughtful.
“y/n this is, this great i love it. thank you”
“well you’re very welcome, now back to business” you place one of your two cards down onto the deck, a green two “uno!” you exclaim with one card left in your hand.
“hm, don’t get too excited” jungkook let’s out before placing a plus two card onto the deck making you groan in turn making him laugh. picking up two from the spare pile you look at the three you having while jungkook decides his next move
“can i ask you something?”
“you just did” rolling you’re eyes at him you watch as he shifts through his couple of cards and you decide to continue
“how come you stopped going to the campus parties?” the question took him back, he hadn’t really thought much about partying since you came back into his life- finding a night with you way more fun then any party he’s attended here
“no reason really. i wanted to stop a while back, just lost interest. all they really involved was taeyong bringing girls to me and trying to hook me up, i grew bored of it” you nod at this as jungkook places down a colour card and say a quick ‘yellow’.
“and he’s your roommate right?” he nods to this and you take a moment to look at your cards before placing a yellow one onto the pile. “iam guessing he isn’t happy with your lack of attendance?” you ask but it comes across as more of a statement then a question
“yeah, he’s been moping around the dorm whenever i see him. although last week he stopped speaking to me all together” you raise your eyebrows slightly in shock at this, sure he could miss his friend and roommate attending parties with him. but to stop speaking to him at all because of it? that seemed a bit extreme
“does that upset you?” jungkook shrugged at this, before placing a yellow eight onto the ever growing pile in the middle of the pair of you, leaving him with three cards in his hands.
“not really, we weren’t exactly close to begin with. plus i have you and the guys, more then enough for me” you were happy to here this, honestly you didn’t want your return to ruin any existing friends he already had. placing down a green eight you claim uno once again as you you were back one card
“for fuck sake i changed the colour for a reason” he grumbles making you laugh as he picks up three cards from the untouched deck before managing to place a green five onto the deck
“well i changed it back for a reason too” you say before slamming down a pick up four, the last card in your hand “i win!”
Tumblr media
“how nice of you to separate from your mrs’ to join us” jungkook glares at taehyung’s comment, but didn’t miss the beat his heart took at you being called his. well that’s new. he chose to ignore it
“don’t make me regret joining you” he grumbles as he plants himself on the grass, in the circle all the boys had created.
“stop teasing him” namjoon says in his defence and jungkook gives a smile as appreciation
“and stop ass kissing so you can be the best man at their wedding” another beat was skipped in his heart at taehyung’s words and it was beginning to annoy him, his heart shouldn’t be so responsive about a joke of him marrying his best friend.
“i will be the best man so no one get your hopes up” jimin joins in and everyone laughs, not jungkook though- he takes a deep breath.
“where is y/n today?” hoseok asks and all eyes go to jungkook
“she’s at a lecture right now” he mumbles, hoping the subject of you would change so his heart would stop beat so damn fast
“will she join us after?” yoongi’s question didnt aide the hoped for subject change jungkook was wanting.
“should be ending now, could ask her if you want” jungkook suggests, he was going to ask to see you today anyway, as he did everyday
“i actually have plans with her today” jungkook’s head shoots to taehyung, he what? his shock was apparently evident because his friend explains “bumped into her the other day, she takes english like me so gonna help her study, we’re going to that diner down the road” he shrugs as jungkook remains silent, sounds a lot like a study date to him- he didn’t like it. he wasn’t too sure why he didn’t like it, but he just didn’t.
“not you stealing his wife” jimin mutters, an attempt at a joke but the death stare he received from jungkook made his smile drop.
“hi guys!” a voice struck through the awkward tension and all heads turn to you coming towards them. everyone gives a small greeting but jungkook remains silent, but gives you a smile. how could he not as you squeeze yourself next to him in the circle, looking ever so pretty
pretty?
his smile dropped at his thoughts, his gazed dropped to your hand on his thigh as you dropped next to him- using it to stable yourself. his heartbeat picked up, his cheeks flushed, his mind raced. his friends began to chatter around him but he couldn’t hear a word, he knew now, knew that he liked you- more then a friend and thought terrified him. a thousand scenarios played in his imagination at once;
you finding out and never talking to him again
him confessing and you laughing in his face and never talking to him again
you finding out and dropping him with no further explanation and never talking to him again
him confessing and-
“jungkook you listening?” your voice pulls his attention and he looks at you, why were you so fucking pretty?
“he definitely wasn’t listening” hoseok laughs as does everyone else but he doesn’t, he feels sick. the look of concern on your face doesn’t help either, god you were always so thoughtful.
“i-i need to go do something” he mumbles quickly before standing and walking off, but it seemed he just couldn’t escape you, as you were not on his trail as he walked into the nearest building
“hey jungkook, what’s wrong?” he didn’t stop, no he picked up his pace breathing hard while looking “careful!” he didn’t have time to register anything before you had him pushed up against a wall, hands on his waist, body pushed up against him. a flock of students rushed past them as you held him, almost protecting him as they ran by. his breathe got caught in his throat as he looked down at you just as you turned your head and looked up at him. jungkook became hyper aware of your body against his and your hands tight on his sides, his thin shirt the only thing in between them and his skin. slowly, you pulled away and he let out a heavy sigh before pushing himself off the wall, you were still too close.
“i- uh”
“spill, you’re acting weird” he couldn’t get any words out, he tried but his mind couldn’t come up with anything and an uncomfortable silence grew thick.
“oh god i don’t want to talk about that lame excuse for a man, can’t believe i have to deal with him as a roommate” a familiar voice came from nearby and jungkook lifts his head and spots taeyong coming down the hallway. you followed his gaze before turning back
“is that your roommate?” jungkook does nothing but nod, still processing the words he heard from the boys mouth. suddenly he’s being pushed into a nearby door and into a tiny cupboard before you join him. there was barely space for a mop in it and he blushed as you squeezed in front of him, your ass pressing against his front. you closed the door just in time as taeyong stood in front of it, there were small slits in the door meaning you could hear clearly and see most of the outside.
“y/n what”
“shh” you whisper quietly and lean forward to hear better, only making your ass press into the blushing boy even more and he couldn’t even retreat anywhere.
“man i can’t believe you started those rumours about him and he still doesn’t know it was you” jungkook’s eyes widen slightly and you return the look as you turn your head to him before turning back to listen
“still thinks it was that girl he hooked up with the first time.” taeyong scoffs before continuing “he should be thanking me though, gave him ass on tap” you rolled your eyes at this but jungkook remained frozen, his roommate spread those rumours about him? he’s the reason no girl on campus wanted anything serious with him?
“mate you only did that because people started to like him more than you”
“yeah well now they think he hates relationships and think girls are nothing more then a good fuck, i made sure of it” with that the voices faded and you slowly opened the door before stepping out but jungkook remained stood.
“let’s go jungkook” you spoke softly but the look on your face screamed that you were furious. slowly he steps out and you close the door behind him “how fucking dare he, what kind of person does something like that? we’re going straight to the school board and we’re reporting his ass”
“y/n, i don’t want to think about this right now. can we just, go do something?” your heart broke, he sounded so hurt so betrayed and it pained you to see it. the whole ordeal made jungkook push his new feelings aside, he just needed your company right now.
Tumblr media
“iam moving dorms” they were the first words jungkook had spoken to taeyong for a long time. he thought his roommate was just being dramatic and ignoring him for ditching parties, but he was wrong. without jungkook’s attendance he couldn’t push girls in his direction and buff up his made up stories. it only took a couple of days for his request to switch to be accepted and he was glad for it because every time he saw taeyongs face he just wanted to bash the living shit out of him
“woah what you talking about buddy?” jungkook’s eye twitched at the audacity of him, how two faced could one person be?
“iam not your buddy” taeyongs facarde dropped slightly, his fake smile turning into a frown. “don’t ever come anywhere near me again, or i swear to god i will beat the fuck out of you”
“what the fuck is your problem?” jungkook’s patience was running very thin with each word that came out of the mans mouth. he had his days of being sad and now he was just angry.
“hm let’s have a think, what could possibly be my problem with you?” he mocks thinking as taeyong just stares at him, jaw locked “oh i know, maybes it’s you talking behind my fucking back and ruining my reputation” shock spilled across his ex roommates face but jungkook was finished with this conversation, he walked l to his room to pack up his things- empty boxes already there waiting to be filled. but taeyong didn’t seem to be finished as he followed him
“so what i said some things about you? gave you some good lays didn’t i?” jungkook closed his he’s momentarily in frustration at the man speaking behind him. god how did he stand him for this long? calling human women lays? was he always this infuriating? “not my fault that slag came into your life and cockblocked you” jungkook’s back straightens. his hands turn into fists.
“get the fuck away from me, and keep her name out of your mouth” he gets out through gritted teeth not turning to face the the man because he didn’t think he could hold back if he looked at him. taeyong mocks a laugh
“how good is that fucking pussy for you to be whipped so badly?” he whipped around and before he knew what he was doing his fist connected to taeyong’s face making him stumble backwards, his had flew to his cheek before he chuckled with no humour behind it. he lunged forward at jungkook and the two began to throw punches, knocking things over in the room as they did so. taeyong grabs jungkook by his shirt “you think you’re so fucking perfect don’t you! you’re so pathetic!” jungkook grips his shoulders, shoving him off before pushing him again making taeyong stumble into a desk making everything on it tumble to the ground, including the painting you had done of him making loud several bangs. breathing hard as he looks at the fallen painting, he exits the rooms in a hast, face hurting and blood trickling down his cheeks. he was sure he’d ended up killing the guy if he carried on so left making sure to slam the door behind him and heading straight across campus with one place in mind. he ignores all the stares thrown his way from other students as he stomps into the girls dormitory and straight to your door. he knocks a couple times before you open the door
“jungkook oh my god!” he manages a smile at your shock before he’s pulled in by you and lead straight to your room “sit” you order and he listens, planting himself on your bed immediately. you leave momentarily before returning with a small first aid box in your hands and sit next to him. opening your supplies instantly. “you look awful” he lets out a laugh before wincing, the cut on his lip stinging. you put some liquid onto a cotton swab before gently gripping his face, turning him to look at you. he takes a sharp intake of breath as you dab the swab onto his lip but as you continue he just stares at you. blinking slowly he takes you in, pyjama shorts tight on your thighs and crop top snug on your torso.
he thinks as you work on his face, about the blind date you went on, about your speech declaring to help him bring his sparkle back, to your painting you did of him. every single moment since you came back was dedicated to him, to helping him enjoy everything he fell out of love with since you’d left. football, painting everything you did was to help him fall back in love with the life he lost when you went away, but he realised something in that moment as he watched you wipe cream onto his wounds. it wasn’t those things that he was in love with, it was you. he didn’t love playing football, he loved seeing you cheer for him on the sidelines. it wasn’t painting that he loved, it was you painting beside him that he loved. you cared for him, you listened to him, you wanted his opinion. jungkook realised in that single moment that everything that made him feel alive ever since he was a kid, all came back to you and suddenly his feelings didn’t scare him like they did before, they ignited something in him. they ignited want and desire but also a feeling of warmth and peace.
it happened in the blink of an eye, he leant down and smashed his lips into yours, hand coming up to hold the back of your head- fingers threading through your hair. you dropped the swab, hand fumbling on the bed making the tin fall to the ground, the contents spilling onto the floor. jungkook pulls back slightly, lips still hovering over yours and you could feel his breath.
“iam sorry i-” you didn’t let him finish, leaning forward planting your lips on his again in a rushed motion making him groan. his hand reaches down, gripping your thigh before lifting you onto his lap without breaking the kiss. you gently bite onto his bottom lip making him gasp from the slight sting of his cut but also the feeling of your teeth digging into him which allowed you to stick your tongue into his mouth. his hands moved up your thighs before grazing your ass then trailed up gripping your waist, pulling you into him harder. his touch set your skin alive in a phantom burning sensation making you grind into him, his head falls back breaking the kiss and he whines quietly at your movement. and it was the best fucking noise you have ever heard. your lips move to his neck making him fall back on the bed and you follow him, attacking the spot underneath his ear “fuck, y/n” he whispers and you have to suppress a groan that’s bubbling in your throat. his grip tightens on your waist, and you feel how hard he is underneath you, you’re shorts not creating much of a barrier. you’re satisfied with the mark you leave behind, knowing you’ve wanted nothing more then to claim this man ever since you were teenagers. licking a strip from the base of his neck to the mark beneath his ear he shivers and you immediately go back to his lips before he leans his head into your bed
“this was not one of the scenarios that i thought about happening” he pants and you chuckle at him
“you’ve made up scenarios about this?” he suddenly groans in embarrassment
“i shouldn’t have said that”
“what if i said i made up scenarios too?” you ask and his eyes snap to yours “so many times” you lean and whisper directly into his ear and he moans “always thought about this, you under me, me under you. but with less clothes” jungkook’s sighs before you’re suddenly flipped over making you gasp as he lies between your legs.
“if you don’t shut that pretty mouth of yours iam gonna come before any of our clothes are off”
Tumblr media
waking up with the sunlight hitting his face, jungkook groans as his eyes flutter open. he’s confused for a second as his surroundings isn’t his dorm but he instantly smiles when he remembers where he is. turning over his eyes meet you, blankets wrapped around you as you face his direction. you were still asleep, hair sprawled on the pillow, sighing he runs his hand on your waist before it moves to your back. you sigh in your sleep before shuffling into his direction, his arms instantly go to hug you into him and your arm goes over his waist making his heart leap. he felt the happiest he’s been since you left, this was the best outcome he could’ve asked for. jungkook had no idea where the confidence came from to kiss you last night, he just couldn’t hold it back now he knew his true feelings. his attention drew to you as he felt you stir awake, looking down your eyes open slowly.
“morning” he mumbles and you sigh before moving onto your back to stretch
“good morning” you let out before yawing and coming back to cuddle into him, making his heart flutter
“i guess we should talk about last night”
“sorry, don’t want to date just wanted to see if the rumours were true” jungkook leans away to look at you but kept his arms around your body “kidding” you say before running your hands down his chest
“you’re so mean” he grumbles making you laugh as you move your hands to his neck, pulling him back to you. he moves down and snuggles his head into you neck, allowing you to cuddle him as you run your fingers through his hair making his eyes close
“isn’t it weird that this doesn’t feel weird?” you ask making him grin. he agreed, nothing about this felt wrong it felt so right.
“iam just going to count everything before this as foreplay” you laugh at this and jungkook joins you
“that was some interesting foreplay” sighing you drop your hand to his shoulder but quickly jungkook grabs your hand and brings it back to his hair, smiling you continue playing with it “so what do you want now? for us i mean?” you were worried about the response, you couldn’t help it. you knew exactly what you wanted from this but you weren’t too sure about jungkook
“isn’t it obvious? iam obsessed with you y/n, iam annoyed i didn’t realise it sooner” your eyes widen at the information but he doesn’t stop “no one has ever meant as much to me as you do, everything you’ve tried to make me love again since you’ve been back doesn’t amount to you. i can’t believe i’ve never noticed it before, my life went to shit went we fell out of contact and it instantly got better when you came back. i need you in my life y/n, i really don’t know what i would do if you wasn’t” your breathing stilled momentarily, you heartbeat heavy. god you felt the exact same way, your life abroad was boring and empty without him. it was the main reason you came back with your parents when they said they were returning
“jungkook, i feel the same about you. you’re one of the most interesting people i’ve ever met. you deserve so much and there isn’t one day that goes by where i wouldn’t drop everything for you” his chest tightened, why had it take them so fucking long to get to this point? he didn’t know but now you were at that point and he was sure that he was never going to let you slip from him again.
jungkook smiled as you walked hand in hand to the greenery on campus to meet with the rest of the boys.
“oh my god it’s happening” taehyung gasps, holding his hand over his heart making you laugh as jungkook sits down and pulls you to sit between his legs. the whole group began clapping making you hide behind your hands but jungkook simply laughed, although a red tint did rise on his cheeks. after they’re done yoongi holds out some money in taehyung’s direction and he happily takes it, making everyone look at them
“did you bet on them getting together?” namjoon asks and yoongi nods making jungkook roll his eyes
“i said by the end of the year, he said by two months. i didn’t count on his shy ass actually making a move” yoongi explains making you chuckle but you stop when you see the other boys begin to swap money between them
“you all fucking bet on us?” you ask in disbelief and they all shrugged with smiles on their faces.
“you’re all horrible friends” jungkook mumbles but that only makes them smile more.
“we’re the best, and in fact i was the one who set you two up on that blind date. you probably wouldn’t even know you went to the same college if it wasn’t for me” hoseok says smugly but you making a noise making everyone turn to you and jungkook look down at you from behind
“y/n?” he asks and you smile
“actually i saw you at a party before the date. i was pretty sure it was you but i wasn’t too sure, i kept staring at you, probably looked creepy as fuck” you chuckle at the memory but jungkook furrows his eyebrows in thought, but jimin beat him to it
“yes i remember! that was you?”
“you saw me?” you asked, horrified you had been caught out
“it was pretty obvious you just stood there staring at him” he laughs and you groan, leaning back into jungkook who’s arms wrap around your front
“i can’t believe that was you, if only i turned around” he thinks out loud as everyone else begins to chat separately.
“i kind of prefer the way we met again, it was unexpected. makes for a good story, almost as if it was fate” jungkook never thought he believed in fate but right now, he just might. and as he looked around at all of his friends, and new girlfriend, laughing with each other he felt content. sure he had fallen back in love with all the little things he used to, but more importantly he realised he loved you all those years ago- and he fell right back in love the moment you turned around in front of that music building when he saw for the first time again.
6K notes · View notes
wroteclassicaly · 2 years
Text
She’s Trouble
(Eddie Munson x Female Reader)
Tumblr media
Summary: Tired of trailing behind, feeling like you don’t matter much, you decide that 86’ isn’t only going to be your bestfriend’s year.
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Female Reader
Word count: 16,185
Warnings: Language, violence, mentions of drug usage, blood, NSFW, smut, drinking, Eddie is angry and sad in this, masturbation, slight voyeurism, breeding kink, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, angry sex, creampie, angst, fighting, rough sex, Dom!Eddie, and MORE!
A/N: I started writing this based off the scene of Eddie smirking at the cheerleaders he lets by after his cafeteria speech. And, well… it’s spawned itself a new life and turned into a whole lot more than I planned. But so is the life of an author, am I right? ;) Eddie is a dick in this, Reader is a lot more vocal than I’ve written before. I wanted to do something a bit different and I hope this accomplishes my mission?
I wanna thank @littledemondani for helping me out of my brain fart on which direction to take this! Also, do check out her masterlist, which is pinned at the top of her blog (it won’t let me link it here). She’s an incredible author and a fellow Eddie Munson slut, and one of my longtime best-friends! ♥️
Side note: I’ve also shifted a few things in the timeline of the show, for obvious reasons. The whole Eddie/Chrissy thing doesn’t happen on the same night as in the series. Chrissy and the reader have a good interaction and Eddie is a dickhead, but his reasoning will be explained. Also, while the reader is wearing a bustier top, this is an all inclusive fic, where the reader can be anything you imagine! I believe anyone can wear anything that they choose to—regardless of their size, so don’t let that bit of the story deter your perception, as I’ve left it open-ended! ;)
Enjoy! I’ve got a lot coming up soon! Part twos of multiple fics, prompts, plus other goodies! <3 - Kristen
~*~
You watch the way that he tries to be cute and coy towards them, attempts to impress with a dramatic wave through of his hand. Short skirts, tight little tops, bouncing ponytails, and a shitload of generic gossip on their painted lips—they pass by, everything included but those damned pom poms. Apparently they are giddy at his little show of calling out every group but your own in the cafeteria. Your eyes roll so hard that you feel a protesting sting, ignoring it to stab your fork into whatever creation is wiggling on your lunch tray. All the guys—freshman to seniors, and you—the only girl since founding, and Hellfire Club’s treasurer/manager to Corroded Coffin—make up the outsider table.
This year, however, you’ve felt so fucking off base with this group and their antics that you’re getting exhausted pretending to care about their shit when they don’t respect you or yours. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike are always the sweetest to you, even with Lucas joining a sport, he’s still quick to always give you a smile and a nod whenever you pass him in the halls. They’re young, unlike Eddie and the older guys. You’re finally a senior this year, but still behind your bestfriend by a year in age. All this used to be okay, Eddie multiplying how much he repeats the grade, you trailing behind him like a lost puppy without any brain of her own, but now—it’s unbearably smothering.
And thus, it’s been building. You’re over bringing chips that are from your personal stash and using your gas to go buy smokes with your small work paycheck, or clean equipment for Eddie’s band, or stay up all night just to design campaign posters for Eddie, only for him to be so fucking stoned that he doesn’t even appreciate it, nor remember it.
“Fucking fake losers,” Jeff mutters.
“So fake,” Gareth agrees, both looking towards Eddie as he settles himself back down, wiggling his brows at you.
It’s an unsettling pressure that boils inside you, crackling, and as soon as you look into your best-friend’s brown doe eyes—it all comes apart. “You wanna talk about fake?” Your chest pumps a rush of adrenaline, helping careen the words off your tongue before you can stop them. Everyone’s attention snaps quicker than you’re prepared for, eyes wide and shocked. Sure, you’re vocal and sassy, but never outwardly angry. “The fact that all of you will condemn the basketball players, but would give up any of your seats at our table for one of the bitches in a skirt that they chase, if they popped their gum or batted an eyelash. You’d all be a bunch of drooling, little horndogs.” You can feel your heart racing with each pronunciation of a word, rising from your seat, knuckles white from gripping the edges of your yellow tray so hard.
You hear Dustin whisper a ‘whoa’, but your vocal vomit doesn’t stop.
“Frankly? I’m fucking sick of all this.” You pick the tray up and slam it down for good measure, unwrapping your messenger bag from around your seat, and you leave the table of gaping young men behind you, not even indulging yourself in Eddie’s bugged out, concerned stare.
You don’t even have time to throw your bag across your chest, when Jason Carver shouts out from behind you, “Damn, look at Munson’s slut go!”
It seems your group aren’t the only ones taking an interest in your outburst. Your breath is engorged in jagged pants of pitiful air, a fire coursing through you faster than you can handle, your skin singing, prickling with goosebumps. Your cheeks redden in humiliation, your feet swiveling and carrying you, fast and quick to their table, you throw your bag off, body like some damned slow motion track. Everyone notices Eddie’s antics, but you’ve never garnered any attention. It’s a surreal high.
Your combat boots click across the cement flooring, your hair like a dead weight across your back. Carver and his entire group are expectant, chairs scraping across to get out of your way. It’s all such a blur that you don’t even know your fist has collided with Jason’s face until you feel the pressure bite into your knuckles, a crunch beneath your force. He shrieks, his friends jumping to his aid, your stance shifting, ready to take anyone on. Your ears are bubbling with a murky static, applause in some direction, shouts in others.
Your name is being shouted from two different directions, the one you see stomping angrily towards you belonging to principal Higgins. He’s calling for help, shoving his finger in your face, motioning to your shirt. “This Hellfire Club does nothing but cause trouble!”
You snort, completely coming off your hinges, shaking the ends of your shirt, before stepping back and flinging it over your head, leaving you clad in your jeans and a leather bustier top no one could ever picture you owning. You’ve always kept your shit to a minimum to draw less attention, but you liked the support it provided your breasts with. You spin around, hands in the air, using the shirt as a lasso, tossing it at your old table. You begin to giggle, honestly wondering if you should visit the school nurse, but uncaring. Higgins is literally sputtering, making you snort, waving a hand. “I’m a slut, I’m trouble. Anyone have anything else to add? No? Yes?”
You bend back over to snatch your nap sack up, motioning to Higgins. “Lead the way to your office, Sir! Please fucking do.”
The pep in your step as your principal is angrily leading you from the masses is such a euphoric feeling, you’re sure you’ll never feel again in your life. You can taste the drama on your tongue’s tip. You don’t even spare your friends a glance, not wanting Eddie to have a morsel of satisfaction. This is your moment. Not as Eddie Munson’s best-friend, not as his groupie. As Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.
~*~
Eddie Munson has been clutching your discarded Hellfire shirt, doused in your perfume that is brimming his nostrils full, damn near trembling for the past twenty minutes that finish up lunch. He can’t move, that swelling between his legs keeping him glued to his seat, all the images of your fist soaring into Jason Carver’s face, ripping off your clothing in front of Higgins and the entire damned school. He went from concerned, angry at how you acted, to so fucking turned on that his stomach knotted up, sucking him to where he’s seated, his cock throbbing in his jeans. He’s never seen you like this.
The guys are silent, unsure what to say, how to even go about comprehending the you they just saw, that even Eddie himself has never heard of. He knows one thing for sure—okay—two. He has to find out if you’re okay and what’s going on.
~*~
You roll your eyes at the lovely note, signature of a three day suspension secured by Higgins at the bottom. Crumbling it up, you slide it into your back pocket, rifling through your pin tattered bag for a cigarette. You already know where you’re gonna go, and it sure as hell isn’t home. No one is there and no one is gonna care about your minor indecency. You can forge your mom’s signature, much like you do every good grade you bring home that she’s never around to see, or every comment from a teacher about how your folks are missing out.
It’s quiet at your house, your space. You parents more or less sleep there when they’re not gone on business. Pinching the filter, you cup Eddie’s stolen Zippo, that ashy hiss helping beckon that sweet bitter taste in past your lips. You don’t desire that home front solace right now, craving different scenery.
Maybe I’ll get lost…
You feel like Hawkins is your oyster, and you’re eager to explore on your own terms, by yourself. You’ve got your smokes, your pocket knife, and a pen and paper. That’s enough for you to make a decision.
Skull Rock it is.
~*~
One thing about Indiana is the ever predictable bite of hot weather that March brings. Spring is automatically Summer in the Midwest, and this is no different. Your leather top had stuck to your skin in an uncomfortable crunching press, making you eventually discard it, leaving you topless, your only accessories a chain with your birthstone pendant and a thicker silver chain, with a cheesy little guitar charm (a present from Eddie) nestled between your breasts. Your form is shaped against the rock behind your bare shoulder blades, a cool sensation that has you tilting your head back, stretching your neck, treetops breezing above you—tall and luscious. You smile softly, undoing the flap on your bag and seeking out your Walkman and sunglasses.
In moments your eyelids are fluttering closed, shielded from sun rays, your Walkman clicking in place, readying Heart’s Barracuda to nick your ears, coasting in welcomed caresses. It’s not thick heavy metal, but it’s you. And in the serenity of these woods, another cigarette you allow yourself—you begin to drift off in a galactic solitude that is solely your own. You’d learnt how to count beats, read sheet music, even sing a few notes from Eddie, so getting into your song’s groove isn’t hard for you, your fingers wrapping around your chain, tapping underneath the swell of your breast along with the chorus. You’re off the precipice and gone, demolished to the point you don’t hear the familiar footsteps, the sound of your name, or leaves and dirt crunching beneath white Reeboks, nor do you hear a throat-deep groan at his discovery.
~*~
Eddie and you always share this in synch kinda shit, which creeps a lot of people in your circle out. Eddie, however, welcomes it today. When he couldn’t find you after abandoning his lunch, spent what was left of the day attempting, only for Henderson to tell him he’d heard you’d been suspended for a few days—he made it his personal goal to find you. Your parents are gone so he knows the times you do and don’t like to be at home by yourself. And with the way you lashed out at everyone, you won’t go anywhere he has easy access to.
That leaves one place. Skull Rock.
~*~
The drive feels shorter to Eddie this time, but the walk longer. He has to shed himself of his denim and leather, tossing it over his shoulder and clambering up the path towards finding you, keeping your club tee in his back pocket. The more he walks, the more he wishes he brought a drink or his smokes, which remain on his dash. If he’s wrong and you’re not here, he isn’t sure if this is reality anymore. This day has been one big mindfuck.
Thankfully, as he hears a loud tone droning over the clearing, a soft hum, his heart patters in his chest, nostrils inhaling sharply. He rounds the corner’s pathway, already calling your name, his eyes widening, jaw unhinged, fists clenching at his sides. You’re reclining against the boulder’s curve, black shades perched over your eyes, hair draped across your neck, your boot clad ankle crossed over the other, a cigarette perched into your puckering pair of lips, your layered chains swaying, slumbering against your skin, and fuck—your tits, Eddie winces, gripping himself to adjust—frozen.
He can’t not notice how your nipples are reacting to the air. He can’t not detail your shape, how your waist is formed, zeroing in on the baby bat you’d gotten to match his larger ones, inked into your ribcage, and he certainly isn’t forgetting your jeans that are settled over your hips. His eyes glaze over, heat prodding his flesh, shrouding him a veil of desire and raw ache. You don’t notice him, calls of your name falling on mainstream rock’s ears. He doesn’t think approaching you is smart, like a cat and mouse, your behavior for once—unpredictable.
Has Eddie just not been paying attention to you that much lately?
Suddenly, when he’s debating a cowardly retreat, baiting his internal monologue for an excuse, your audible gasp is heard, his name crushed between your gritted teeth.
Fuck.
~*~
In all of his glory—stands your best-friend. He’s balling and un-balling his fists, eyes darting rapidly, tongue sucking against his teeth, feet ready to carry him far away. And the more he avoids your stare, the angrier you get. So what, you’re not good enough to look at because your breasts are out? Modesty to a back burner, you take your crossed arms off your chest, scraping your smoke out on the rock, pushing your glasses into a perch upon your head, body facing Eddie as you stand.
I dare you.
Your eyes complicate a challenge—craving him in your proximity, and hating his grunge blanketed sight. Eddie’s neck is a really pretty thing when he tenses, his jugular agitated against a harsh gulp of air. He answers you by meeting you in the clearing, palms sweaty, scrubbing over his back pockets. It’s a cool damned drink of water, as if you’ve been without, making thee Eddie Munson squirm. But he’s still your best-friend, and you are half naked.
Covering yourself back up so he will look you in the eye, you tuck your arms into a push beneath your sternum, forearms shielding your nipples. It’ll have to do.
“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing here?” You snap before he can voice a concern or a question.
Tethered to deep breathing techniques, Eddie is insulted, and is biting back in his acidic response. “After your own personal talent show antics at school, I was worried about you. Excuse-the-fuck-outta-me, Y/N.”
A bitter laugh comes from you. “Oh, you’re focused enough on my shit to actually be worried about me? How kind of you, Edward Munson.”
“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be worried about you?” Eddie is raising his voice, sizzling in a cautious rage. He’s usually happy-go-lucky with you, but you’re pushing these fucking buttons he isn’t aware he’s been hiding.
“You really need a list of reasons? Wait,” you say, moving to circle him, pinching your thumb between your teeth, “you’re probably, completely oblivious, because I’m just Y/N. I’m not your club, not your band, not one of your groupies that flounce around for an ounce from you, then leave your ass for their jock boyfriends.”
“Whoa, whoa!” Eddie raises a hand, rings clattering together. “When the fuck did all this start, Y/N?”
Your arms fall back at your sides with a loud ‘thump’. The heating has settled, your high wearing off, truth remaining as to why you’ve been upset in the first place. A caverning hurt carves its place into your chest, igniting an anguish that drowns you. You’re defeated. “It started when my best-friend forgot that I’m my own person and not his servant. Or maybe it began when my person was so stoned that he barely acknowledged a test I fucking flunked to stay up and make his campaign posters—which, may I add—he also gave zero fucks about-“
“So all this is because I didn’t kiss the very ground you walk on for some posters that you practically begged me to make, and wow—your A+ average went to an A. Curse me into the deepest depths of hell, please.” His bracelet slides down his wrist as he palms his heart.
Maybe you’re not the only one who is changing. Eddie hasn’t ever disregarded you in such a crude manner. Your tongue is practically salivating in need to layer on biting and cruel words, things you won’t be able to come back from. You remain silent, mulling over what to say, glaring, docked, stinging prickles of tears. It’s an elating elevation when the words do come. “I’m your best-friend, Eddie. Not your little groupie. I’m tired of you preaching about conformity, when all I do is conform to you. You don’t ever let me pick music, you always take for granted I’ll give you and the guys rides when your van isn’t working, despite if I might have something to do that doesn’t involve an all male ensemble. I spend my money to buy you cigarettes and snacks for the meetings. I manage gigs, I clean your band’s equipment.”
Eddie sniffs, looking pointedly at you, doe eyes dark and growing increasingly fed up. “Didn’t know you were keeping a tally, Y/N.”
“That’s… That’s all you’re taking from everything I just said to you, Eddie?” You can’t keep that hurt out of your tone this time.
Eddie shrugs, crossing his arms, coldly spitting out, “Seems to me like you’re sick of me. And that’s not my problem, that’s yours.”
Your head is swimming in turmoil, all your acting out and emotions swirling into a mindfuck. He doesn’t care. You’re standing here finally pouring your entire soul out in heaps and your person is pouring gasoline on the pieces, dangling a match.
“I’ve never kept a tally, Eddie. I do these things because they make you happy, and that makes me happy, but it fucking sucks when you don’t appreciate them or care about anything in my life, either.”
“That’s what you really think, Y/N?” There’s a flatline in how he’s speaking to you.
“No,” you murmur, “it’s what I know.”
Eddie’s jaw clenches, teeth grinding. He kicks at the ground with the toe of his shoe, brows raising. “Breaking Jason Carver’s nose and my cold, dead heart.” He splays a hand across his chest. Those rings, which are always a comfort to you, reflecting off the sunlight, dripping in judgement.
Your trembling wavers, crackling sentence structure falling apart. “Eddie. Don’t.”
“No. Fuck you, Y/N. Seriously, fuck you!” He shouts, snapping a finger in your direction.
Your hands rub up and down your goosebump soaked skin, finalizing what you need to do. Heaving in a deep breath, a sentence escapes your lips. And you pray, pray Eddie will heed this warning and value what you have enough to understand, to work it out. “Maybe it’s time to fess up to the fact that 86’ needs to be a bigger year for us both.”
Mind reader. A power you’ve never wanted more than in this moment as you claw at the cusp of your best-friend’s reaction. Outwardly, Eddie shifts, Adam’s apple bobbing, thumb swiping underneath his nose. Your mouth waters, throat reflexes threatening a fountain of vomit. And Eddie takes your warning, slaying through it, every bit of ground beneath your boots threatening to cave in.
“You’re right. Hell, Carver is right. You do act like my slut. And you have every right to change it, because it’s only holding us both back. And it probably has been for a long time.”
Kicking you would’ve hurt less. You’re unable to see Eddie’s form longer, muddled to a watery silhouette, your brave bravado dissipating. You won’t beg him. You’re nothing to him anymore, he’s just confirmed. You try not to think about the first time he taught you how to dance before your first snowball, or how you both snuck Jim Hopper’s cigarettes when you’d get in trouble at school and be sent to see him for minor misdemeanors, or Eddie’s pride when he managed to get you on stage to sing one song with the band, rubbing circles on your back the whole time you both sang to a trio of drunks, or splitting beers on his van’s roof and nearly breaking limbs when it started raining and you had to climb down, how he taught you to drive in the fancy neighborhood and you knocked over the mayor’s mailbox, when you watched him buy his ‘sweetheart’, tears in his eyes at a possession so gorgeous and all his own, his hands gentle as they held you the nights you cried from one stupid thing that felt massive to you, when he was your person and you were his.
Your wet, quivering breaths are what you hear. Birds chirping, wind rustling, even Eddie’s heavy breathing drowned out. It takes what feels like eternity, before Eddie is slashing the quiet, guarded and stoic. “You need to put a fucking shirt on.”
Your jeans are covered in tear drops from a bowed head, fingers shaking hard enough that your knuckles roll into a crack at the motions. You wipe your tears in time to see Eddie hold out your Hellfire shirt—second edition—his being the first. His reverie breaks briefly, and you think… maybe. It’s gone in those brown eyes that you can no longer read or recognize. Filled with loathing and disgust at you, his last words imprinting on your psyche, a physical recoil.
“On second thought. You won’t be needing this anymore.” Eddie makes his way around you and finds his lighter atop your bag, flicking a flame to life and nudging it at the end of your shirt. It catches quick, burns fast, like every fiber of friendship with Eddie Munson.
Eddie tosses the tattered, charred remains to the forrest floor, pocketing his lighter, walking away from you and out of your life.
~*~
He can’t stay any longer and watch you fall apart, not when he’s running away from his cowardice. And he does, run. He moves and clambers, stumbles until he’s from you and the cries that he hears pour off your lips. His chest is thumping sporadically, pulse in his blurry vision. His five fingers catch a tree, slamming, splintering, a sob breaking free of his tear soaked lips.
Eddie Munson forces himself to remember how unsure you looked in your dress when he held you around your waist, never feeling more himself in his entire life than he did with you— at thirteen—during some cheesy school dance, how you entertained his tunes so he could teach you the counting method he uses for his music to move your feet to the beat, all your encouragement every time he hit a new note, or your midnight phone calls to ask what he’d like on his posters, your body trusting him to keep you safe on those nights when everything became too much for you in your life, but you had tried to hide it, or when you both snuck in to see Carrie when you were pre-teens and you couldn’t sleep without him, so he made a makeshift mattress next to your bed for a month, about that time you were so tired from an all nighter that he had walked into his room and found you curled up in his bed, using his vest as a makeshift pillow, your nagging him to study more, because he’s always capable of anything he sets his mind to, and those cookies—the only thing you can bake without having to call for Hawkins fire department—a container you’d brought for him and his Uncle, still sitting on his kitchen counter.
He was your person and you were his. And now? You’re gone. Eddie runs away. He keeps running, leaving you to your own miserable anguish, drowning in his own, getting himself in his rust bucket and going back to his trailer to get completely fucked outta his not-so-right mind.
~*~
By the time your suspension is over and you can no longer barricade yourself into your room and finish off another bottle from your dad’s liquor cabinet—it’s sheer dread. You’re not only the freak who broke Hawkins Highschool’s Prom King’s nose, but you’re the freak without anyone by your side—a true and thorough outsider. As you stand outside your school, nails pinching into already weakened threads dedicated to your bag’s strap, you’re really regretting those couple of drinks this morning and how you’d poured more vodka into a flask to take your Tylenol with. Hell, it’s not like you can get a fix from the school dealer anymore, is it?
Those damned double doors are louder, a jolt to your already throbbing headache, fluorescent lights sparkling in your retinas through your shades that cover a nursing hangover and distraught, red and puffy eyes from a three day sob fest. Each step your boots make sounds like you’re walking to your death, your outfit—sans any Hellfire related attire—is all yours. Your two chains limited to one, Eddie’s gift waiting in a cardboard box you’d half-assed assembled, and tossed in random shit he’d given you. The deeper you get into every hallway, making simple turns you know like the back of your hand, your nausea grows as to what might be awaiting around each corner. Or who. It’s a short lived relief upon arrival at your locker.
You pinch your shades off, raw eyes protesting the moment fresh tears staple your skin in brushes. In red letters, diagonally capitalized across your door contains what you haven’t wanted to face since it happened.
The freak got dumped
You choke on your salvia, throat wet and enduring a suffocation strong enough to have you gagging on the piece of toast and water you’d forced your famished form to consume this morning. You barely make it into the toilets before double over and expelling everything, diaphragm on fire, bones vibrating through tosses. Hair dangling in your face, plastered to your mouth, you sniffle and tremble, vision blurring. You ponder getting yourself fucking expelled, but you made this whole ordeal about it being your year. If you retreat now, what will that do? Mustering all your strength, your courage, you flush your bile, clean off your mouth and face, pop a mint, take a swig out of your flask, and make your way to your first class.
~*~
By the ever popular lunch time, you have managed to clean your locker and pinpoint the culprit (an ashamed that a girl broke his nose, Jason Carver), but neither of you speak on it. You keep your head down, you focus on your school work, you take your Tylenol, and you sip on your vodka. Enough to keep an edge off, but not enough to send you down a despairing hole filled with regret and torment. You know you’re being stared at as soon as you hit the line to get your tray. It’s fake smiles and refusal to acknowledge it that gets you in search of an aisle, and hopefully out of sight. You aren’t so lucky…
“Hey, Y/N! Over here!” You hear an all too cheery voice belonging to Dustin Henderson. It halts you in your tracks, a wince causing a physical recoil.
It’s not his fault you and Eddie no longer have anything resembling a relationship, and he apparently has not told them, and they’ve not seen Jason Carver’s masterpiece.
Good.
What isn’t good is that Eddie is very much at your old table and you know it’s unavoidable. You wished you had borrowed some concealer for your under eyes, but it’s too late. There’s a grand staircase cloaked in invisibility beneath your feet, your stomach knotting in crushing vices, your cheeks stained with red. You walk to your former friend group, trying like hell not to side eye Eddie Munson. Keeping a steady focal point without blinking against your scratchy lower lids is damn near impossible. And guys are going to be guys—much to your chagrin. Gareth is drawing further attention where nothing needs to be, popping off with a, “Damn, Y/N lookin’ like she went on a bender.”
“A week long bender,” Jeff chimes in.
Biting the inside of your cheek between your teeth, you shrug a shoulder. Better them having knowledge of your binge drinking celebration than knowing about how messed up you are.
Don’t look at Eddie. Is your mantra for today.
He, on the other two hands, is not prioritizing that same aspect.
“So what if I did? I know of about ten girls who can drink your asses under the table, myself included.” You smirk, gripping your tray’s edge.
“Been holding back on us?” Gareth is grinning from ear to ear. It eases your shouldered weight tremendously, breaking tension in your table’s ranks.
“You gonna have a seat or what?” Mike Wheeler interrupts, his hands flipping towards a desired target, one that you wish you could keep pretending you never knew.
Fuck it.
You really crave for some divine intervention to help you, because meeting those chocolate brown eyes that are distraught, angry, and rimmed red—your heart constricts to painful blows, windpipes crushed beyond speaking capabilities. Eddie’s been somewhere off planet earth with that kinda high, you remember seeing his demeanor that way only a handful of times, including this one. Maybe he does care? No, doesn’t matter, don’t go there. It’s over and done.
Still, that idiotic, massively moronic part that Eddie owns of you—it’s billowing hope. Eddie Munson dashes it in seconds flat.
“No.”
You glance away, jaw twitching to control an automatic quiver. Dustin is laughing it off as a joke, someone else asking why. Eddie reclines his legs in your empty chair, loud enough to get your attention back. He wants me to see.
“No traitors.” It’s a simplistic answer, aggressive, no room to argue.
Ever-the-curious-freshmen, Dustin and Mike peg their leader for questions. You halt it, tone breaking apart, fingers tucking into your shirtsleeve as you balance your lunch on one hand and wipe across raw flesh to clean fresh tears from your eyeline. That’s when Eddie does look away.
Coward.
“It’s okay, guys.” Is what you say.
“What’s going on?” Gareth asks.
“I won’t be around meetings or practices anymore, but I’m still here if anyone needs anything, okay? You know where my locker is, and where I live.” You pat yourself on the back for that robotic but truthful statement.
“Unless you’re sick of everyone else too…” His deep voice rumbles.
Like a deer in headlights— you’re frozen, a blinding rage of hurt and red hot anger pouring over you in a storm. You explode. Picking up the first thing in your sight, which happens to be on your plate—a glob of some chocolate goop (possibly a brownie)—it’s slung directly at your former best-friend’s crisp white Hellfire shirt. Your second cafeteria incident that, yet again, everyone notices. Eddie yelps, shouting out your name in brisk spits.
You further it, abandoning your food in a repeat of days ago, floating to his side and shoving him back two steps. Eddie stops his rapid shirt swipes and immediately presses his form into yours, chests smashed, food squishing through your top. His hair is frazzled from the humidity, his toffee colored irises slowly polishing into a thick black gloss of dilated pupils. He sucks his tongue against his teeth, swaying into you, not touching you with those hands, an air about him that is beginning to swarm your initial reaction and bend it over, fucking it into the next decade. He’s taller than you remember, but you latch onto your own, tasting that cigarette soaked breath, lips hovering over his, hot tears matting your lashes.
Whether it’s regarding his inability to respond to your reasoning for this whole situation, his lack of expression, your self-disappointment for something roused inside you at his huffing proximity, you crown him with a title off a jagged voice box, damp in her sorrows, just as Dustin steps between you two, gently prying. “You’re a fucking coward, Eddie Munson.”
Teachers are starting to flock in, and you shake your head, hand over your eyes briefly, before sprinting in strides from the room in search of a place to collapse.
~*~
If you had told yourself at the beginning of the school year that you’d be in a camaraderie with the girl’s bathroom—you would have laughed. And if your mind had convinced you otherwise, you’d have expected Eddie to be right beside you, arm around your shoulders, sharing his lunch, making stupid jokes, coming up with lame ideas to make you feel better, but in that endearing Eddie Munson kinda way. You let out a soft cry, giving up on that stinging beneath your lids. You’re a hot mess and the whole building probably knows how alone you really are now. When the outcasts cast you out, where else can you go?
Clenching onto the sides of the ceramic sink, bag slipping off your shoulder and onto the floor, you keep your head bowed between your shoulder blades, not noticing someone come in and approach you, a gentle set of fingers laying upon your shoulder. Through foggy vision you can make out the green colors of her uniform and her perfectly straight ponytail, her face seemingly concerned. Your laugh is exhaustion on steroids, expression bombarded with emotion. “Okay, what the fuck is next? A girl craves some independence and the whole school turns against her. Let me guess, your boyfriend sent you to get even? Why don’t I make it easy for you and you can call your friends in here, and… and—“
Great.
Your lungs start to burn, your ribcage pounding with an erratic heartbeat, throat feeling like it’s been dusted with a thick blanket of ash. You’re panicking in front of Chrissy Cunningham. That alone has you feeling more pathetic than ever before in your life, and it worsens your heaving sobs—broken and unguarded. Chrissy’s eyes are drinking you in, irises glossing over with tears of her own. She grasps your other shoulder and squeezes, not releasing her hold on you, her soft voice strong when she speaks, but gentle enough between the expanse of your shared airspace.
“One, two, three, four. Okay, now deep breath in, and release it for me, Y/N.” She’s actually calming you, keeping you steady on your feet, which feel as if they’re sinking into the flooring below like led weights.
“Chrissy…” You aren’t sure how to articulate, still alarmed and attempting to breathe with her.
“I’m right here. Just keep breathing and counting with me.” And you do. And that’s when it hits you.
She has experience with this mind numbing panic too. That otherworldly anxiety. You feel a connective pull towards the cheerleader—seeing—not this persona you’d imagined, but her calming features, her easy going manner towards you, how she lets you find your lifeline, but also lends you her own in case you need it. When your breathing slows, she gives you a look, a silent communication of question. You may be able to breathe a little easier now, but it doesn’t stop the weight of your situation from crashing down and demolishing what’s left of you.
“Can I… I’m gonna hug you, is that okay?” At this point, if she’s going to put a sign on your back you don’t care. You need the human connection, the comfort. You agree and your schoolmate takes you into a light grip, but folds her arms around you and lets you bury your cheek against her perfumed sweater.
You both stand in the embrace, no trace of awkwardness, a sense of kinship and knowing. It’s when you pull back that hint of a questionable concern with her, wiping your sore eyes with a hiss. She notices.
“Are you here because of Jason? I just need to know.”
“Jason was a dick, Y/N.” Her language shocks you, having only heard her be proper before.
You laugh, your first genuine giggle in days. It’s contagious, as she joins in, hip jutting against the sink. “No, I’m here on my own terms. I promise. I saw what happened with your friends…”
“Yeah, I can imagine how everyone must be amused right now.” You bite your lip, facing away.
Chrissy gives you a saddened smile, but attempts to reassure. “I know this is gonna sound incredibly lame coming from me, but you’re stronger than all this, Y/N. The way you’ve stood up for yourself these past several days… I admire it.”
You frown deeply, wondering if this is a trick, because no way is Chrissy Cunningham admiring someone like you.
“You admire a loser that can’t even manage her own newfound independence?”
“No,” she says with a pause, looking down at her French tip manicure, before facing your curious gaze once more. “I admire your ability to stand up for yourself, despite what everyone is saying or doing to you. It’s a good quality to have, one that many of us are afraid of, you know?”
There’s this hollow pain in her eyes and your continued recognition has you pulling her in for another hug—this time for her benefit, rather than yours.
“Looks like we’ve fallen into the cliché trap, Cunningham.” You grin, pulling back.
Chrissy tilts her head, curious. “What do you mean?”
“A freak and a cheerleader thinking the same as what their peers think, and getting each other totally wrong.”
Her sweet eyes light up, her head nodding. “That’s exactly it.”
You share a knowing smile, a newfound bond forming. Chrissy situates her small shoulder bag, pulling out a compact and tugging you by your sleeve. “C’mhere. Let me fix that.”
She takes a gentle hand, not rushing as she speckles your sore under eyes with her own stash of makeup. After she blends it with soft fingertips, she snaps the lid closed and places it back in her bag, turning you to the bathroom mirror, brushing some of your hair through, giving your back a rub. “Is that any better, Y/N?”
Your circles are mostly covered, puffiness disguised enough where you won’t be embarrassed. You look and feel much better, and you’re overwhelmed with gratitude for the blonde at your side. You incline yourself into a swivel, leaning in her direction. “Chrissy Cunningham, I think you’re one of the sweetest people I now kinda, sort of know.”
Her giggle is infectious, and she gives you another squeeze. You drop down to swoop your messenger bag into your arms, grabbing out a your notebook and a pen, scribbling your home phone on it, hesitating, before handing it over. “If you ever need to talk to someone about all the bullshit, whatever it is, consider me your new confidant.”
She holds the simple sheet paper as if it’s another lifeline and you’ve just given her a treasure. Going back into her own bag, she has a cute little pink embroidered stationary paper that she jots her number on, and uses a smiley face to dot the i in Chrissy. Seconds later, her friends and a group of other girls burst into the bathroom, gossip on their lips. You and Chrissy flash each other a secret smile, and you make another hasty retreat.
~*~
Eddie had to hear a bunch of shit from the guys, overly bearing questions sounded off by Henderson and Wheeler. The eventual revealing by a passerby group of cheerleaders about your specially decorated locker, had surprised him too. As if there’s not already a weighted dagger wedged into his ribcage, one interlocking into his heart muscle—he lost control with his bitter mouth again, and it fueled your temper. But deep down, deeper into those subconscious recesses, you both felt that ignition start, a kind of coercing heat that is waging an internal war in Eddie’s head. His sole reason for blocking you out and refusing to talk about anything with you in the woods.
Eddie Munson is in love with you. Eddie Munson needs to fuck you.
It’s something he’s always done—built walls, got high, stayed drunk, coped with humor, hid behind his guitar or his campaigns. And without his right hand woman, he feels naked, too vulnerable to all the bullshit he’s tried to keep out. And your absence has become a set course for his weakening concentration on anything that isn’t you. His ultimate warrior princess is also his Achilles heel. Your feelings in wanting to branch out, they scare Eddie.
His brain is flipping logic into thinking you are seeing what everyone else sees in him: freak, failure, piece of shit, a nobody, a criminal. He pushed you out before he could pull you back in—easy, abrupt. And it’s not just changing him—no—he could smell your vodka soaked breath across the table, see your eyes swollen and glazed—absent. For the first time in years you weren’t wearing your limited edition shirt (thanks to him), and Eddie isn’t sure why he expected you to still have his chain around your neck. It fucking hurts.
As the room slowly falls back into their daily routine, Eddie loses his appetite and leaves his herd behind, urgent to get the fuck outta this building, out of Hawkins. Hell, maybe even the country. Like you, however, Eddie Munson’s retreat isn’t one that is unscathed. In his urgency, he smacks straight into you, stumbling over his own clumsy ass feet, gripping your forearms to keep you both steady. He’s processed your scent before he even takes in your beautiful features.
Fuck…
You look less like you’ve been partying all weekend, but Eddie knows better. Your pupils are dilated to the bright overhead lights of the hallways, making your sclera more visible. It’s bloodshot red, lower lids swollen and tinged a rough crimson beneath the fresh makeup that Eddie now sees. He swallows and looks away, but he doesn’t let you go. His grip isn’t harsh, it’s simply what it’s always been with you two. Easy and sturdy, safe.
You’re the first to downcast your gaze, focusing more on your shoe wear than on Eddie. It kills him. Even through these notions, this fear, whatever anger you’re both harboring, it’s as if this whole damned school and everyone passing you two are mere bodies, Eddie Munson and Y/N Y/L/N floating, tethered. His stomach churns its lunch contents, teeth clenching tightly. You make a brisk dart off, but Eddie attempts to catch you, instead tugging too hard on your shoulder strap, causing your bag to dump and spread out its contents at his sneaker clad feet.
Eddie’s eyes are quick to see it before you realize. Shining underneath hallway lights, scattered amongst notebooks and pens, is a small flask. His brows perch, he crouches first, scooping it away from your jutting hands. Gareth’s words rewind and play on repeat in his head.
“Damn, Y/N lookin’ like she went on a bender.”
The way his heart rate spikes, hostilely spitting that acid all over his lungs, battering his throat muscles with a pummeling storm. He’s already sure what he’ll smell if he presses the lid to his nostrils, but Eddie has to feed his anxious curiosity, unscrewing the cap with nervous hands, sniffing, shrugging off your grabs. It burns his mouth from its strength, his distraction giving you enough leeway to wrap your hands over his fingers and pull. Eddie locks your digits within his own, second thoughts gone. Against everything inside him he is getting angrier by the second, the anger masking itself, easier than being petrified and scared in front of you.
And Eddie is scared. Is he really so fucking stupid to think you weren’t at all affected by any of this?
“What the fuck, Y/N?” Your fingers sliding through his own, flood him, prickling every vein running beneath his skin, cutting off his blood flow—scorching.
~*~
Having Eddie’s hands on you again, his body so close, despite your shame at his discovery, it’s a feeling that comes more natural than breathing. You avoid his question, feeble grasping docked.
“Why do you have a flask full of fucking vodka?”
“Will you keep your voice down!” You hiss the words, finally breaking off him and retrieving the rest of your items on the scuffed up floor, and securing them back into your bag, Eddie holding back your liquor.
“Did you drive to school drinking this crap? Tell me you didn’t, Y/N, cause’ I swear to god—“
You chortle, a humorless boom smacking across your chest.
“Eddie, this faux best-friend act is getting old. Your on and off switch is enough to drive anyone to drastic measures. But don’t flatter yourself into thinking I’d be an idiot and drive drunk. Not even for you.”
His irises that are glossy with concern, they cave to dilating pupils, an animalistic rage priming them. “Oh, you have got to be the most clueless bitch alive, Y/N.” He steps towards you, frame towering slightly. You’re not afraid, never fearing if he’ll do something, because that is not Eddie, no matter what. But, you are very much dripping with rage at his words.
He pockets your flask in his left back pocket, rings clinking against it as he pats it for good measure. You try to dive around him, beneath his arm, but he swoops in on his own, using that strength for his slender frame, literally scooping you into a half bring-away, only discarding you back onto your feet once you’re both outside. You try to shove at him, palms resting on his stained club shirt. The bell has rang to signal your free period, but you don’t give two fucks, giving up and being the one to leave.
“Who’s the coward now, huh? You’re gonna walk away from me when I call you on your shit, Y/N?”
You spin on your heel, dirt and gravel specks crunched beneath your step. “I thought I was a clueless bitch, Eddie? A traitor? Or, your slut.” You scoff, crossing your arms.
Guilt briefly flickers across his features, but he shuts it down tenfold. “Just because we’re fighting doesn’t mean I want you to destroy your fucking liver or your life. Jesus Christ, you really think I’m that big of an asshole?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore!” You fling your hands into the air. “One minute we’re at each other’s throats, the next you’re up my ass. I don’t know what to do here, Eddie.”
“Thought you craved some individuality and independence.” Though there’s meant to be flare behind the words, Eddie’s tone has splintered across each word, voice breaking apart. Your guts sink into your ass, as does a particularly pointed swallow that stabs at your jugular.
“Didn’t say I wanted to be completely independent from my best-friend.” Your own response is gentle, voice soaked with impending emotion.
Fuck. Stupid fucking tears burning again. Not right now.
Eddie’s attention snaps back on you, proximity closing in. His jaw clenches, he moves it from side to side with a closed mouth, sniffing, whistling air through a wet breath. “Feels like you’re leavin’ me and I can’t do anything to stop it…”
It makes sense suddenly. A catapult of truth slamming right into your chest, spreading throughout your body.
He thinks I’m leaving him. That I want to leave him.
As if the last seventy two hours haven’t happened, better yet, as if they haven’t mattered in the grand scheme of things—you’re the one that meets Eddie, reaching to push that curly hair from his eyes, his head downcast and posture sullen. His brown eyes are brimmed with tears that spill over his lash line, a permanent frown creased between his brows, mouth red and spit slick. Those freckles on his nose are suddenly very prominent to you. You’ve never seen Eddie Munson this vulnerable. Your heart shatters, the ache so physically strong that you have to remain close to him to hold on and find that strength again.
How could you have gotten this so monumentally wrong? Maybe if you’d have expressed what you meant more instead of feeding off Eddie’s anger. His communication and yours both need nurturing, but your sudden shift in mood must’ve made him feel like you wanted to abandon him, not just do things for yourself. He may not realize that yet, but you do. And it fucking sucks.
“Eddie. I’m sorry.” It’s all you can say in the seconds that your heart heaves into your throat.
He shakes that shaggy mane. “Don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me, especially you.” He backs away from you and you see his entire expression crumble, tears spilling onto his cheeks.
That pain drowns your throat, seeing him cry because of your lack of explanation and mutual avoidance. You chase after him, running around to block his view, unable to let him go, gripping onto his waist beneath his jacket to keep him planted. Another familiarity. He tenses beneath your touch before relaxing.
“Eddie, will you please listen to me? I think I know what’s going on now.”
“And look who is the one flipping her emotions this time.”
“Because, I… Eddie, I—“
“What lame ass line do you want me to buy, Y/N? You think I’m not used to worthless promises or idiotic reassurances? Yeah, good.” His sentence is fragmented, voice rough and breaking apart on each word. “You know I still care about you, but I don’t need you to lie to me, you don’t owe me a damn thing, I promise you—“
You press a finger to his quivering lips, halting him. There’s a shift in the atmosphere, a pause in the universe, your legs heavy, fingertip stroking along the plumpness of your best-friend’s full, lower lip. Eddie’s chest is moving up and down swiftly, tongue against his teeth, that warning look. You fail to heed it and Eddie’s hands tremble at his sides before he gives up and cups the sides of your face, bringing your foreheads together. His lips part to speak, your finger still on them. “Think we’re in trouble here.”
You can do nothing but nod as his declaring statement, inclining your head further, nose nudging his own. It doesn’t feel as if you’re standing any longer, every mean thing that Eddie has said, every disproportionate attempt of yours to communicate—obliterate, shrouding you both in the process. His breath is hot as his mouth opens and he sucks your finger inside, tongue licking its tip, biting the digit between those milky white teeth. It sends that throbbing nudge, snapping between your thighs, making you arch into your best-friend. You whisper his name and his fingers move along your jaw, across your ear, sliding through your hair and rubbing a pathway to your necks’ nape, sending an army of goosebumps across your flesh, the coolness of his rings stimulating your skin.
“Yeah, you feelin’ it too?” Your lids flutter closed, Eddie using his thumb pad to brush the corners of your lashes, signally for you to open them. “Didn’t say you could stop looking at me, did I, sweetheart?”
You grind against him, unable to stop. Your last several days, everything between you both is on hold, these buried urges able to finally win out. This dominant side of Eddie Munson has you an inward and outwardly quickening pile of mush and hormones, of fucking need. Eddie about loses his cool when you obey him, pupils blown, mouth looking parched and in need of his kisses. He leans, walls starting to slip, resolve crumbling, his pouting mood long gone.
Years of built up tension and confusion, being rightfully by one another’s sides, it all comes apart, the seams, begging to be repaired into what it has to be now.
You envelop his hold on you, hands sliding into slips beneath his jacket, around his waist, tracing over his back, before dipping under his armpits and grasping his shoulders, knuckles pushed down by his leather jacket. One more step and he’ll kiss you. He’s closing a gap, no more breaches, you tapping his shoulders right down to the blades in encouragement. It’s parted mouths hovering over one another, cigarettes and vodka, school lunch and weed, it’s—
“Hey, guys! Higgins is so pissed off right now… After that shit went down in the caf, he’s ready to expel you, Y/N! Pretty fuckin’ sure.” You hear Gareth approach, and just like, Eddie releases you.
You have to steady yourself, want simmering into a slumber in your belly, not yet gone, but still reminding you where it lives. Your glare is directed at your mutual friend. Eddie, feeling as if he’s been doused with ice cold water, and the moment is shattered, you see those walls rebuilding rapidly, and she shrugs off your hand, leaving you and Gareth, and that slickness that has collected in your panties.
~*~
You aren’t sure just exactly what Eddie is feeling, but you’re very aware of what you are. So driving to his place once you know Wayne has left for the night shift—it’s a no brainer. You’d debated bringing Eddie your box of treasures, even your necklace, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Maybe, maybe your best-friend doesn’t want you to…?
Want.
A dynamic shift in your relationship, or what it used to be. You can barely sit still as you wrack your brain through all the levels of hazy blurs. So much has happened in three days, but… today, with Eddie nearly kissing you on the mouth, and you nearly grinding against him in the Hawkins High parking lot—yeah, you two have to talk about all of this. As you squirm in your seat, hands tightening around the wheel, that approaching trailer park sign signals your arrival to his residence. You can’t stop the way your heartbeat feels as if it’s ping ponging around in your throat, or that anxious twitch of your mouth’s corner—forget even attempting to deny your cascading memories of the way his chocolate irises wore an expression unlike anything you’ve ever seen on Eddie Munson.
His trailer comes into your sights, that tickle swooping your guts and holding them hostage. You swallow a thick ball of anxiety, parking next to his van, cutting your engine. The lights are all on and you’ve got no excuse to chicken out. It’s your year too, right? Fucking fuck it.
With your keys clutched in your palm, you make your way to Eddie’s trailer, rasping on his door lightly. You don’t hear his music blaring, so he might be reading, planning a campaign, writing some music he’d mentioned wanting to practice with the guys soon, get a feel for its sound—just last week. You have given about three octaves of knocks and are about to give up, head pressed the door, thinking he was just lost in lust earlier, and maybe you’d fucked up on your end beyond repair. Exhausted by the stampeding pain that brings your insides, you flip the Munson’s spare key off your key ring and unlock the door. A bold move—albeit—a very stupid one.
That familiar scent of Eddie and Wayne’s shared carton of cigarettes hits your nose, along with the leftovers from dinner you see sitting out on the stove. Your cookies, which have been devoured, are missing their note. You panic, briefly thinking Eddie probably trashed it, only to come back from that brink seconds later. It’s not what you’re here for. You glance at the couch and it’s empty, not even Eddie’s usual indent on the cushion is there.
Swinging your keys from your pointer finger, you peek down the small hallway to Eddie’s closed door, light spilling out underneath. He could be sleeping, possibly ignoring you, or he snuck out the back door…
Your feet make an echoing squeak across the trailer’s flooring structure, your fingers twisting the knob and pushing, pausing, deciding to go ahead. If he wants you to leave then you’ll go, if he’s asleep, you’ll go, if he left… You can’t fathom that thought, another ignorance that you partake in. You aren’t sure exactly what you expected, but seeing your best-friend’s tallish frame, with his back facing you, lean leg propped atop his mattress, right arm bent at a very clear angle, his left propped on one of his many amps he’d apparently moved since you’d been here last—is sure as hell NOT it. Eddie’s curly hair ruffles and is jostled across his shoulders with each movement his arm makes, his delicious ass clenching as his body thrusts into his rhythm, the outline of his chain on his perspired neck and damp strands of dark hair—clear. You don’t have to hear the thick, slick and wet stroking to know what he’s doing to himself.
You cross an ankle over the other, squeezing your legs together tightly, trying to bounce on the balls of your heels to get relief. Your fingers white knuckle his banged up door handle, your mouth parting. Whether it’s that bond you two share, or your very visible labored breathing, Eddie’s shoulder blades pinch together, his motions abruptly cut. He turns as if caught doing something he shouldn’t be—definitely something you aren’t prepared to handle. It’s like your mouth is speaking for you, eyes in a trance, enslaved to your lustful abiding.
Fucked out, blown up pupils shave off the color of your irises, your tongue gliding across your teeth, that take a turn to sink into your bottom lip, your toes curling in your shoes. You feel hot, body battered in melting flames that won’t cease, won’t let you get in a normal burst of air flow. You know without having to fix your posture that you’ve made a mess between your legs, panties soaked to hell—completely ruined. You’re honest to fuck not sure if you can make it out of here in an upright position, that painfully strong ache tackling your cunt, breaking off your common sense, leaving you Eddie-drunk. Helping yourself to a swiping look between his legs, he’s still got a ring clad hand wrapped around a very generous girth—shiny—a length that leaves saliva pooling on your tongue’s tip.
His chest is slick with sweat, tattoos glossed beneath, nipples hard from the cool air let into his bedroom. Which, you note, is really fucking hot, and the window is steamed up. Your eyelids flutter in rapid blinks to help you reign yourself in, but all you see are glimpses of Eddie’s fist around himself, that creamy and swollen head, full balls on either side, trimmed curls at the base of his shaft. You want to die. And oh, what a sweet and sinful death that would be.
“Mhm… fuck.” You say through the gap between your panting mouth, words take the opportunity to bust free, joining a high pitched whimper.
Eddie’s chocolate eyes are completely black, leaving no room for anything else but purely raw desire. They widen, a sharp heave in his inhaling chest, abdomen flexing as he holds himself tightly. When you don’t move Eddie takes the initiative, slowly approaching, a softness there beneath the want and knowing. He reaches your space, still giving you enough, but you’re able to still feel that radiating body heat. Neither of you speak, because what is there to say right now?
You’d be a pleading mess of profanities, apologizes, and begging to be taken and used.
Thankfully, Eddie makes another move before you. His spare hand joins your own on the door knob, fingers brushing your knuckles, encouraging, giving you one more opportunity if you’re in distress or uncomfortable. You hook onto his offer and you surprise you both by finding something to say after all, throat parched, yet still damp with wanton rasp. “Start touching yourself again, Eddie. Please?” Fuck, well there’s a beg.
Eddie, assuming you want a show, nerves being dipped in lava and left to forever sizzle and smoke—gives in, both of you shutting his door and closing the two of you off from the outside world. He doesn’t wait for you to back away, pushing his hips to a rise, his cock gliding through his closed fist. You let him lean over you, frame against his door, watching his legs spread to widen his stance, obeying your plea. He almost asks, but assumes it would be too hopeful if you would want to touch yourself in front of him too. You’re out of your mind, common sense obliterated for all eternity, watching your bestfriend practically pin you to the door and fuck himself in front of you.
Those sounds you’ve imagined, pictured, they’re even more pronounced in person. Some low enough that it’s a stifling whimper, a needy sobbing. If you don’t do something about the gnawing throbbing between your thighs, it’ll be total combustion. There’s an empowerment that winds itself around a pulsating set of nerves in one’s decision to masturbate in front of their best-friend. That coolness works itself in your palms, your fingers tossing your keys over and onto Eddie’s dresser, toeing off your shoes, his eyes steamy in their grasp on your every move.
You’d wished you had brought your camera to photograph his expression when you walk over to where he stood in front of his bed, turning to face him, your fingers undoing your jeans and the zipper, a resounding echo in the room, Eddie’s tongue poking out on his upper lip, he holds himself around the base, the urgency to fuck his hand as you take your seat on his mattress and scoot with your back to the wall, hips lifting to help you pull off your jeans and panties. You struggle momentarily, but neither of you are saying a word, gazes steady and unwavering.
Discarding your clothing with a soft thump onto his floor, you’re heartbeat thumps in your throat, ribcage taking an unsteady hammering of its resounding drumming. You heed Eddie’s silent command to continue, agreeing to this turning point between you two. Your thighs fall open and that sticky want strings to your swollen folds, glistening in the creases of your thighs, your cunt sopping wet. You’re dripping, and Eddie isn’t missing it when your arousal finally does drizzle from your neglected pussy and onto his bedsheets. You shift to get comfortable, hand cupping yourself, immediately smothered in your own juices, legs falling into a drop, toes finally able to curl without the barrier of your shoes, bunching Eddie’s sheets.
Eddie watches you from where he can see, still eager to be closer, but unable to stop himself from stroking along his length, teasing that vein that runs alongside his cock. You do it again, rubbing your palm up and down your lips, a crude squelch causing Eddie to almost black out, and you shiver. He releases himself, heavy and hot between slim thighs, and he’s moving. He puffs out a gravelly hiss from pursed lips, stalking towards you and giving a cat like crawl across his own bed, planting himself shoulder to shoulder with you to your left. He must be feeling the overwhelming change that is occurring, as he reaches for your hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.
You gravitate towards your hand, fingers slipping through your slickness, your head bowing in embarrassment. Eddie grips your chin and tilts you his way, shaking his head, that same hand dropping to your thigh and lifting to pull up and to the side. And he looks. He fucking memorizes you between your legs with these little mewling coos of appreciation that cement themselves into your subconscious. You do the same, helping yourself to an up close and personal view of what he’s been hiding.
Eddie leans forward and cups the nap of your neck, his other hand taking your wrist and removing it from your self-touches, shushing your protesting whine. He brings it up to his mouth, which is hovering close to yours, your own fingers pressed against your lips, and he licks a straight stripe up your creamy covered palm, humming underneath his breath as he does so. You want to slap him and ride him on every available surface in this trailer. You’re the one to speak, having to.
“Eddie…” It’s a meek little trail-off.
Eddie lets go of your wrist and uses that hand to pull his cock off his stomach, a wet patch left behind in his happy trail. He still doesn’t let your neck go, his fingertips tapping an invisible beat, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He’s laughing, tufts of air settling across your mouth. You narrow your gaze, moving to shut your legs, Eddie’s hand quickly preventing the action, stroking the meat of your inner thigh. “Only fair if I’m exposed, sweetheart.”
“But… you’re laughing.” And it hits you then, why he’s really chuckling in that Eddie Munson way. It’s an incredulous and mind boggling turn of events. Best-friends that broke up when they were never together, now side by side and in a very compromising situation.
You grin and falter into his embrace, your hand working its way into a wind around his neck, taking sweaty strands in scoops between your fingers, his pick chain draped across your knuckles. Eddie licks across his bottom lip, tapping your hips as he moves, your hands falling, and sprawls his legs into a propped spread, cock neglected and flushed, much like the rest of his skin, that you’ll die if you don’t put your marks on. He’s motioning for you to turn in a slow facing position in front of him, and that’s how you end up—vulnerable, so fucking vulnerable. He’s muttering words, huddled and unintelligible, reaching out and tugging you to him by your ankles, stopping, resting, eyes dark as they do a once over to gauge your mental stability. When you don’t protest, palms splaying out to keep yourself upright behind you, Eddie lets his legs flatten against his sheets, a smirk pattering his lips, indenting its knowing presses beside his mouth.
His exhale catches on a ragged breath, a passionate declaration signing off on what’s about to occur, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he pulls you close, your ass resting on his hairy thighs, waiting, held, his arm wrapping around your lower back and lifting you completely into that ink splattered, silk-slick chest, his skin sticking to your long sleeved t-shirt, ruining it with sex-soaked perspiration. You think that there’s nothing—no—you know that in this entire world, no matter what, that whatever will happen to you is never going to compare to the moment when Eddie’s maneuvering hands glide your wet cunt over his cock, using your drenching heat as his own personal lubricant. Your ankles lock around his waist, no choice from the close band that your best-friend has re-tethered you to him with, leaving no room or space where you’re not touching or breathing in the other. Your arms curl around Eddie’s neck, hands draped down his back as you help yourself to pinching and clawing the flesh beneath, relishing every little grumble and groan off his pretty lips. Your face takes solace in his neck, nosing your way through his curly hair, nose bumping his chain to lift so that your mouth can claim him.
“Fuck.” His throat constricts around a swallow, your teeth sinking into a piece of Eddie’s flesh and biting, releasing, lips closing over that angry spot to soothe, tongue tasting salt, licking it off, indulging.
He lets your have your way with his neck, a particularly harsh slap landing on your ass in following of your mouth on his jugular, letting your tongue following that curvature into his jawline. You don’t stop his wandering hands, you don’t dare fight off his vice grip on the globes of your ass, his kneading, using as them leverage to place you right where he wants you. You let him take control, an unspoken agreement, a having to have. Your head falls back as Eddie rolls his hips beneath, rocking his lap, solid presses that drag his fat cock over your embarrassingly wet pussy, scattering your thick arousal and smearing it across his happy trail, getting caught in that patch of curls at the base of his shaft. You’re dripping all over him, quite literally. Caught on a trapped hum, hung in its hisses between your clenched teeth, you croon into Eddie’s neck, your stomach tightening, that velvety drag of his dick through your swollen folds making your lids flutter closed, colors dotting in their dances—translucent.
You aren’t sure where to move your hands, comfortable with having them shred Eddie’s back and empty out the past few days of frustration and desperation. Eddie encourages, palming handfuls of your ass, creating a cresting twist, a thigh trembling rub of sopping wet desire. He’s merely whimpering, appreciating, not overly vocal until his swollen head catches your neglected clit, and his head drops back, fingers pinching so tightly into your skin that it burns.
“Oh, shit. Dammit, baby.”
You’re simpering on a series of whimpers, agreeable and speechless. Eddie is feeding off it. “Yeah? You needing this too? Little clit feels so good rubbing on my dick, sweetheart. You want me to do it again?”
When you’re not immediately able to be vocal, Eddie pulls back a little, shoving his hand between your thighs and drags his rings directly through your arousal, coating them in a glittering shine. His first real touch where you need him the most. You both inhale sharply. It’s the pain from the cool metal of his jewelry that makes it feel so fucking good. He curses, telling you how messy you’re being, flinging his hand in your sights, dragging you in a pry off of his neck, holding your jaw and flashing his knuckles.
“See what you did, messy little angel. You gotta clean em’ now for me.”
His eyes are so fucking demolished, brown crushed beneath a midnight sea of black and insatiable attraction. You’re mewling, tongue lolling out, licking that metallic onto your tongue, sloppily sloping around his knuckles, lips suckling what your tongue can’t catch, your own taste fresh off your mouth. That’s when Eddie brushes a calloused thumb across your bottom lip, tugging it down to expose your teeth, and he brings your lips to his, a feral groan stealing your breath, sharing your juices in your first kiss. It’s a shift in the energy you share, a no going back, no running away, a fate sealed. Eddie loses all control and flips you off his lap, pinning you beneath him, kissing you with such feverish vigor that your hand tangles into his messy curls, and you pull, hard.
His tongue licks your lips open, greedily removing what’s left of your taste that remains. It’s noisy and nasty in the expanse of his small bedroom—diabolically sinful. One hand caresses your throat’s expanse, the other dropping down with a snapped wrist between your thighs, palm smacking your cunt, a guttural groan vibrating from his mouth into your own. Saliva strings on the break away, Eddie’s gaze switching to watch the hand on your cunt, out of it.
“Your pussy always this wet, baby? Or is it just for your best-friend?”
“Only for you, Eddie. Always you.”
Fallen into the depths of satisfaction, Eddie permits a slender digit to drag down your slit, taking that thick honey with it, a squelch echoing in the room when his finger wiggles its way inside of you. You clamp around him, chest heaving with shaky breaths.
“Jesus Christ. You’re gonna drown my dick when you let me fuck you, aren’t you?”
You’re incoherently babbling, tapping the hand that’s on your throat, hungry for it. “Tighter.”
Eddie’s brow raise is comical, a surprise coating his features. “So miss Y/N likes it rough? Never woulda guessed.”
You gulp a pump of air that vibrates across his hold, trying to gain more depth from his finger. It’s moving in exploration of your softly wet walls, an excess of arousal being pressed out upon that squish. Eddie tightens his hold on your throat, before he taps his fingers to your jugular and releases, hand toppling down your side and caressing, bringing. “Fuck, my best-friend’s got such a perfect little pussy. S’ made to be destroyed and used.”
You’re nodding so hard that the motion causes a cracking pop in your neck, Eddie laughing that noise under a cute breath. He’s thick with it, wiggling in a second finger and causing you drop your hands back behind you and push into the sensation, chasing, hunting it.
“Desperate to get away from me all week, now look at you. What a whore.”
Eddie has a mouth on him, something you’d always wondered about in your daily daydreams and nightly fantasies. As vocal as when he’s singing with his band. He’s saying words to you, snapping your attention, you’re whining as his fingers leave your cunt, and he’s pulling you into him so hard your lips split apart, cushioning his cock, cradling him in that overwhelming slick. He must not have meant for that action to cause it, as he jumps when you do, this feral look flickering behind those heated orbs. You know… it’s time.
Eddie is barely able to stand, clumsily bringing you with him by a laced grip in your hands. He gets you upright and you’re dizzy, his hands taking purchase on your shirt (the only remaining piece of clothing on you), and rips it with gritting teeth and anger, as if he’s pissed it’s not the club shirt, or sickened with himself for destroying yours—you’re not sure. Spit pools at the corners of your mouth as you let him tear off your tattered tee and yank your bra down, impatiently yanking the clasp apart and discarding it, helping himself to your tits, closing those plush lips over a nipple. Your hand wraps around his throbbing cock, fingers barely touching around the width, squeezing him—tugging. His hips stutter and he whines against your breast, teeth biting the flesh with a harsh precision.
Your other hand works its way through his wet curls and massages his scalp, tenderly altering in beckoning strokes, ones that switch off into root tugging pulls. Eddie’s hands keep your breast cupped, switching off to the other, whilst you dip lower and fondle his balls, letting your pinky drop off and scratch into his inner thigh. He’s doing that humming thing underneath his fucked out tone again, and you’re focusing your attention on his cock, thumb pad stroking that weeping slit, spreading it around and over that vein, enchanted with how it causes a thin bright shine over him, your own cream matted into the curls at the base of him, pathed up his stomach. His mouth leaves your chest and those big hands grip your cheeks, both of you watching as you jack him with a sticky tug.
Fuck me.
“Who’s the whore for his bestfriend now, Eds? You gonna admit that half the shit I’ve done this week has gotten your dick so hard you can’t decide what you’ve hated me for more,” You say, pausing to twist your grip, making him fold into your holding hand, “my smart mouth or how much you need this.”
Your powering dominance is short lived, hand falling off his erection, with Eddie kneeing you into a shove until your back collides with his desk, his arm reaching around to push most of its contents off and onto the floor, not caring where any of it goes. He nudges your thighs apart and slots his lean frame between, thumb catching the corner of your mouth, his instruction clear, yet awaiting your consent to cross this no back-stepping boundary. “M’ gonna fuck you right here, and you’re goin’ to watch me take you, Y/N.”
You’re pretty sure you’re gonna pass out at any given moment.
“I’m gonna watch you, Eddie.” You agree, zoning out and sprinting after your pleasure.
“Good girl.” Eddie breaks briefly, mouth on your shoulder, hand winding your hair around his fist and tugging it back so hard that the ache inside of you becomes an inferno. He finds the underside of your chin, voice honey-hot. “Because you’re not leaving this room until there’s a puddle of me running back out of your cunt.”
You launch forward so fast that Eddie falls into you, chest smashing against your breasts, your lips crashing into his for a brutally intimate kiss. You sink your teeth into his bottom lip and tug, biting down so hard you taste copper—licking it up and making Eddie’s cock jump. His ring covered hand attaches itself to your throat and he drags you off your prop against the desk, spinning you around and securing you to it, those hairy thighs pressing into you, wet cock so close to where you need him the most. His hand wraps around your hair again and lifts your gaze to that small opening in the mirror where posters and his most prized possession hangs. You’re flushed and soaked with sweat, mouth swollen and streaked with red from biting into Eddie’s plump lip, your pussy dripping thick strings of your creamy essence, slowly slithering in dangles from your pussy and onto the floor.
“You’re so fucking messy, Y/N. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, baby?” Eddie is like the devil on your shoulder, and you, you’re his angel of eternal damnation.
You’re about to beg, but Eddie saves you the trouble, his fingers tapping in tips down your spine, caressing, stroking, before they spread your lips apart and dip inside, palm flat. “Should fuckin’ split you open, do it raw. Cum so deep inside that you end up pregnant with my baby and have no choice but to always think of me, be around me.”
Though there’s a tease behind his passionate words, there’s this primal exclamation that overtakes you and you clamp down on his fingers. A series of fast paced images are vivid in your mind. Your tummy swollen and breasts heavy, Eddie having you bent over like this—one hand on your belly, the other on your throat, feeling your pulse galavant beneath his touch.
“Y/N… Fuck, sweetheart.” He’s so fucked in his descending tone that the depth is gruff and tipping off his diaphragm, you imagine. He presses his cheek against your own, chin resting on your shoulder as you drink each other in, in the mirror’s expanse, Eddie’s tone weak. “You really willing to carry my kid?”
You meet his eyes in the cluttered mirror, nodding, a softness carving out permanent residence in your features. It’s a topic you’d never shared with anyone else, never banked too much on thinking about, but beyond the idea of how hot this all is, you can’t imagine a scenario like this that doesn’t involve Eddie Munson. Vulnerable and barely above a brisk whisper, you’re answering him with, “Yeah, Eds. Want a family with you.”
At your admission, he lets his hand go in languid thrusts. You groan and let your head shift, but Eddie is jerking you back to stare into the glass, both of you panting and on the cusp of an out of body experience. It causes you to grin, licking your lips as your best-friend pumps those experienced digits to cause a purposeful squelch, his rings clinking together. His hard cock is pressed between his own stomach and your back, that pre-cum pooling onto your lower back and smearing in streaks down your ass. You’ve had more than enough teasing and you’re well aware that Eddie has too.
His look briefly falters, turning to mouth at your chin, a silent question. It’s you who uses your words, or rather, trembles in your feeble attempt. “Eddie, just put your cock inside me, or I swear I’ll—“
He’s smirking wildly at your slack-jawed expression when his fingers slide out of you and stick together with your cum, to which he helps himself to and coats his cock, then lines himself up and presses the thick head into your opening, leaning down to bite at your shoulder and leave an exposed imprint. Your legs feel like jello and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. He’s going to ask you to beg, and you’re an all in willing participant. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t. He inhales sharply, you hold your breath, and both of you watch him sink into your slick and soft cunt, inch by inch, until his balls rest against the globes of your cheeks.
You’re still holding your breath, releasing it when you feel him sigh, grip on your hair loosening a little, too caught up in the fact that he’s where he belongs, after so much time doing without this. Your legs are about to buckle, jerking, toes curling against the carpeted floor, overwhelmed by everything that’s happened, and by your best-friend’s cock throbbing in your aching pussy. “E-Eds…?” It’s a pathetic cry of a question.
Eddie’s brows pinch together, sweat beaded between. He grips your jaw and his fingertips tap you back to meet his mouth, hovering over your lips. “S’ okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.” He briefly drops the playful gimmick, reassuring you that he’s right here with you.
It’s more than enough to have you arching back into him, a brash pummeling of his hips that sends you into the dresser, having to reach out and catch yourself. Eddie is quick witted, gripping your wrists with one hand and pinning them behind your back, stepping with you in toe, elongating his arm to snatch those handcuffs on his wall, that cold metal biting into your wrist, that dull noise presenting itself as the cuffs lock you into place, Eddie gripping onto the chains’ excess expanse, using it as a leverage. A sliver of a chalky moan trickles off your kiss-swollen lips, appreciative. The way Eddie is manhandling you has you so fucking euphoric that you’re sure you’ll be in a comatose state before either of you can cum. Your best-friend’s large hand finds purchase in your hair again, drawing his hips back, the other on the chain of the cuffs—steadying himself into a rhythm, riding you like all that matters is your destruction and his ultimate ownership.
Eddie Munson has owned you since the very moment that you two met.
The way he’s executing such precise and rough thrusts, making sure you’re high on the bring up, toes pressing into the carpet, that you’re stuffed full of his fat cock until it hurts, twitching in overstimulation, sore and fluttering walls eager to be soaked in everything he has to give you, that you are taking in every inch, catching every ridge, leaving you a shambled, panting mess, in pieces only being put back together again when Eddie will allow your release. His hair is tickling your shoulder blades, his fingers leaving the cuffs to press into your mouth and curl over your tongue, relishing in how you gag around the digits. You’re weak, so fucking weak for him, and he knows it.
“Can’t wait to hear you gag on my cock, Y/N. If you have trouble with these bad boys?” He puts an emphasis, wiggling his fingers against your tongue, giving them a secondary push to over extend your gag reflexes, his dick twitching inside you.
You bite down on his fingers, sucking them in, accepting his challenge, willing it to happen. His balls slap into your ass, heavy and hot, every movement causing the metal to rut into the skin of your wrists. He’s got a steady tempo going, alternating it by dipping his hips to bring you with him, letting you nearly collide with your chest flush to his desk. He reaches up and shoves that poster back by peeling tape, revealing more of your fucked out forms. Your eyes widen at your disheveled and unrecognizable appearance, Eddie using your cuffed hands as reigns. Riding you so hard that you can’t breathe anything but his hot air curling around the shell of your ear.
“Dammit, you are such a good girl for me, Y/N. Always pictured you takin’ my cock, but you’re not even crying yet, just taking what I give you.”
Yet… Fuck me running.
Your scalp is tingling with a prickling crowd of flames from his harsh grip, his other hand reaching to smack your ass, using some mechanism on the cuffs—albeit—struggling with his spit soaked fingers that were just in your mouth, to unlatch them and discard them at your feet, and he watches the flesh of your ass cheek redden and jiggle beneath his biting palm. You fist your fingers into a strewn pair of his blue denim jeans left on the desk top, dipping your forehead down and arching your back, trying to look between your own legs from this new angle to see Eddie’s cock cradled in your puffy lips. He tuts at your unsuccessful action, forcing you back into watching him doing his hard work—the hardest he’s worked at anything (sans his band or the campaigns, if he’s being honest with himself)—to make this unforgettable for you. He hits that spot located inside, the one you have to strain an arm to barely graze, and you lose all coherent capabilities.
“Eddie… that’s, oh my god, oh FUCK. Right there!”
Eddie’s throat crumbles under a weak pant, which ends up coming out as a whimper. He remains firm, however, still using your hair to keep you right where he wants you, his other hand reaching around to pet his own shaft as he slides out just enough to make you wetter.
“Yeah, baby? That spot gonna make somethin’ happen for you?”
You don’t answer, mumbles and babbling gibberish. He shakes that precious head of his, curls tickling your back and shoulders, a sigh breaking free. “Sorry, sweetheart. Can’t believe we’re doin’ this in front of you. Both my girls right here with me, one of them at my fuckin’ mercy.” Your attentions snap over your shoulder and you see Eddie looking at his fucking guitar, that is one of the only things remaining on the mirror. You gape, but aren’t surprised in the slightest.
He continues on, pretending he doesn’t see your partial seethe. “Makin’ a mess all over me, but I bet you like to see it too, don’t you?” He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, still talking to the inanimate object. “Both my sweethearts are such sluts for their owner.”
You can’t help that rattle that clamps around your bones and slices through your spinal cord, seizing your abdomen, right down into your cunt. Owner? You have zero time to warn him, ask if you can, alarms unprepared, skin slapping on skin, his taste on your mouth, his breath on your flesh, that slippery glide that has cum running down your thighs, and it’s a sudden wave crashing over your insides and drowning them in your painfully interstellar-esque orgasm. Your eyes burn with tears as you watch your best-friend feel what’s happening, realizing. He’s covered in your release, and instead of being mad, he is influencing you like the little devil that he can be, plump lip pressing to your ear lobe with one continuous command. “That’s it. C’mon, Y/N. Drench my dick.”
You wish you could bottle the feeling of your first orgasm with Eddie Munson, your best-friend—forever. Finding yourself growing into that vulnerability that comes with the high, you seek to find solace in Eddie’s arms, whimpering at the overstimulation of his thick cock. With that connection still in tact, Eddie is spinning you around, dick sliding out with a messy mixture of arousals covering you both—his member completely doused in your cream, painting the trimmed curls at the base of his shaft with even more of you, slicking back some more of that happy trail. You want to be embarrassed, but as he’s red faced and struggling to breathe, you know that there’s no need to be. He steers you back onto the bed, falling easily between your spread thighs, drawing them up and around his waist.
He presses his forehead into your own, kissing each corner of your mouth, rings circling in dusting sweeps on the apex of your thighs. His voice is a shivered whisper. “Fuck, baby. You okay?”
There’s words on your tongue, Eddie’s taste on your mouth, things you’ve known for years, but are unsure if Eddie has, or if this is something he needs because he’s afraid you’ll abandon him, but that he doesn’t feel what you do. Your head is spinning and Eddie brushes sweaty strands of hair off your forehead, taking his cock through your swollen folds, pressing that spongey head into your clit—both of you crying out. “Y/N, m’ right here. Care to join me?”
And god help you, the way that you look at him. Really allow yourself to see him this way—unabashed—it stirs all those feelings Eddie has bottled down since forever. You press your thumb into his mouth, your other hand sliding down to grip onto him, gliding your hand back and forth, relishing in how his abdomen tenses, muscles flexing, body gravitating towards whatever you’re willing to bestow. He doesn’t let you touch him much longer, taking what your hand isn’t around and guiding it back into your cunt, that scrumptious burn brimming you, making your thighs drop open, back arch, only to tighten your ankles around him, digging your heels into his ass. He suckles your fingertip into his mouth, licking the digit in until it’s down to the knuckle.
Your head presses sideways, cheek on his pillow, inhaling his shaving cream and that spicy scent. He pauses his movements, making you frown in displeasure. He lets go of your spit tainted finger, gripping your chin, a possessive fire overcoming him. His irises remain completely black, putting you deeper into that comatose trance of agonizing sin. “I want you to fucking say it, Y/N.”
You start a beginning questionnaire, Eddie shaking his head and pressing in harder on your chin, fingers splaying across your jaw, rings pinching your chin in the most delightfully painful of ways. “Say you want me, tell me you fucking need me. That you’re not tired of me, and that you’re proud to be the freak’s slut.”
Your hands wind around his back and you sink your nails in as hard as you can, bearing down on him, sucking him in deeper, both of you in a state of no return. His hand tickles down from your face and grips your neck. “Still sick of me, baby?” He situates your gaze, lifting his hips to a raise so that you can see where you’re connected. You’re inconsolable, that fire already blazing your gut, turning every sense into nothingness.
When Eddie starts back up again, he slams himself into you so hard that your vision goes dark and you shred your own bottom lip open, body moving closer to his wall due to the force. He’s licking beneath your jugular, words sensual and filthy, making your entire body spike in a sudden electricity. “Gonna cum in every hole you’ve got, so you remember that they’re mine.”
This time you’re more than ready to give him a warning, body beginning to shake beyond your control, breaths stuttering in your chest. Eddie reaches down between you, calloused thumb flicking your clit. Everything is so fucking wet and the way it sounds in the expanse of Eddie’s small room, it has you opening your mouth, out of control and greedily begging for more.
“Eds, harder. Please? Almost…”
He’s grinning in that special way that weakens you—heart and soul, body and mind. “So much more than a slut.” His thrusts become choppy, his own babbling tone turning into Eddie-speak. “You are way more than you know, Y/N.”
You fondle his pick chain and bring him into your immediate airspace, mouths hovering. He’s nearing his end, cock getting fuller inside you. “Need you to tell me how much you love me.”
You both completely go slack. Eddie stops himself all together, body trembling, head bowing. Your heart rate increases, feeling as if you’ve skipped a staircase thousands of feet in the air and you’re now free falling.
Love… You don’t have to think twice.
Your hands move to cup his face, holding on, your eyes shining with tears at all overloaded emotions and senses. “I love you so fucking much, Eddie.”
At your admission, those beautiful eyes—dark with remains of passion—they fill, and he gives you his all, driving his cock into you in calculated presses, trying like hell to get you to cum first. When he speaks, his voice cracks apart. “Let me know that you’re right here with me, Y/N.”
“I’ve always been here, Eddie.” Is what you manage, thumping your hand against his wrist and helping him bring his fingers back to your clit.
He doesn’t let you look away, noses smashed together, sticky foreheads pressing, hair curtaining the apples of pink, sex stained cheeks. Your eyes widen as that knot begins to tighten in your stomach, unraveling so violently that Eddie has to grip your quivering thigh in one hand, the other keeping steady on your clit. You dig into his back, other hand tugging on his hair, and Eddie is giving a throaty seduction. “That’s it, be my good girl and cum again for me.”
And you’re coming apart at your very core, every cell exploding and rebuilding, gluing yourself to Eddie to seize the ache that scrambles your insides and leaves you breathless. He’s cursing, keeping his finger on your clit to help you coast over the high, immediately following you with the lowest, sweetest, whimpering moan that you’ve ever heard. Both of your eyes still drinking in the other’s pleasure, tears spilling over your lash line as Eddie’s hips cease and he holds, his cock swelling and that soft, creamy warmth coating your sore walls in spurts. He collapses onto your chest and you hold him there in a vice hug, his hand still trapped between your exhausted bodies. He gently eases it out, groaning around the wetness that he’s all too eager to sample until the layer of shine is off his fingers.
Holy shit and fuck me…
Your legs fall to the side, unable to stay upright any longer, Eddie keeping a hovering hand to soothe your shaking. He kisses your neck with a plush mouth, his chain dangling between your breasts. You’re petting his hair—which is so soaked it’s as if he’s been in the rain or come from the shower—off his forehead, wincing as he slides out and keeps himself by your side. You gasp and he joins, fascinated by your cum and his own seed pouring from your cunt. He raises up a little. “Mhm. Let me see?”
He props your thigh, sliding his fingers back and forth, zoned in on his bedsheets being ruined from the literal puddle of your shared cum that runs from you. Seconds pass and he grins widely, plopping onto his back, his fingertips caressing your shoulder, down to your arm. It’s a comfortable quiet, even with the intense meaning of the words that were spoken, until Eddie starts with a, “So..?”
And you cut him off, trying to get your uncomfortably hot body closer. “So I love you. And I have never stopped needing you, or wanting you, Eddie. I just hope all this wasn’t because we were fighting and you got scared I would leave, and —“
He doesn’t let you finish this time, that chocolate-ly brown ring swinging back around his pupil in a brisk develop, showcasing the moisture in his eyes. “I was scared because I love you so damn much that I would charge headfirst into Mordor, or some alternate dimension without any weapon or any shield, just for you. You gotta know that, Y/N.”
His softness, that glittering fragility, it makes you seal your mouth to his, kissing him full of your feelings. He cups the nape of your neck, drawing in closer, thumb coaxing a shiver from you as it passes over a certain spot behind your ear. On a wet break away, you’re nodding your head. “Guess we spent all week fighting when we should’ve been fucking and talking about our feelings.”
Eddie smirks, then is serious. “Be that as it may, I’m sorry I’ve been shit at showing you I appreciate all that you do for the guys and me. And for forgetting that you are your own person too. S’ not like I meant to, I swear. I just get so fucking caught up and I shouldn’t take for granted anything that has to do with you or with us.”
“Have I ever told you that you’re my best-friend, Eddie Munson?”
While it’s still true, you’re wondering when the words leave your lips. Eddie just fucked you so hard you probably won’t be able to sit down for a week or walk upright for hours, so friendship isn’t exactly the most appropriate term anymore, is it?
Eddie taps his fingertips to your temple, drawing your dazed expression, clinging to the cosmic connection once more. “M’ yours, Y/N.”
“Oh yeah, Munson?” You’re so high that you could fly out of here right now and make rounds around the whole globe. Your chest is aching with a tempo that promises new hope and ease.
Eddie is giddy too, that wide set smile, cheesing. “Just gotta get you a new shirt.”
The memory of your old club attire being one with the forest floor seems like so long ago. Eddie knuckle grazes your cheek, apologetic. You shush him. “I ruined yours, so we’re even.”
There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes and he’s tackling you beneath him, pinning your hands in a lace above your head. “Nah, we are just getting started on bein’ even, baby.”
~*~
Tagging: @littledemondani @prettyboyeddiemunson @gothbitchshit @thisishellfire @ethereal27cereal @likedovesinthewnd
-I really need to form a bigger tag list! I’m sorry :/-
Lemme know if you want on my general tag list, please! :)
10K notes · View notes
jeansplaytoy · 4 months
Text
detailed aot boy hc’s
Tumblr media
cursing , fluff , real life chronicles , proof read later .
Tumblr media
connie would most definitely be one of those boyfriends that when you would be like “bae, you wanna watch baddies east wit me?” he’ll be like “hell naw girl.” next minute you be watching it, his ass know everything, everybody. “rollie big ass pissin me off bruh.”
ony makes the jersey club remixes.
but eren and connie get tf down and make most of the jersey club dances.
armins obsessed with gypsy rose. don’t even ask.
connie and ony used to get tore tf up by them switches from outside. they moms have each other permission to whoop them. that’s how bad they was.
eren was a clumsy ass kid. he got scars from when he was a toddler.
armin got into so many secret bathroom fights that nobody knows about.
connie is not friendly fr. he friendly to people he know but he really mean asf to people he don’t know. and that goes for girls too. (only if they try to act all hard and shit.)
jeans teeth are highly sensitive to cold things. he lowkey hates cold water and can only eat ice cream really carefully.
connie used to have a head full of hair when he was little but his mom got tired of doing it was cut it off.
eren was (and lowkey still is) tender headed asf.
ony wasn’t able to watch dennis the menace, rarely able to watch home alone, or problem child because every time he did, he’d try to copy what they did.
armin rage quits a lot. like… a lot. so he always has a new set up or console every month.
jean bites his tongue every day on accident.
y’all know them knew scars them bad kids be having? yeah, connie got bout three of em.
armin cant keep a girlfriend 💀 the only girlfriend he could keep was you.
jean used to be scared of the cat in the hat live action.
eren greened out a LOT in highschool. nigga was a whole marijuana plant his self. he just calmed down after he graduated.
ony got chased by so many damn dogs when he was younger.
connie tried to fight the principal one time because he tried to suspend him because someone lied like connie got in a bathroom fight.
armin got the attitude of a divorced wife. when i tell you he gets mad so damn quick when people that ain’t his friends try to fuck wit him.
connie get smoked every time he eat freedos around the group because they his favorite chips and nobody knows why he like em.
eren got his door took off the frame one time.
jean tried to sneak out his parents window because they permanently locked his. he broke his arm that same night.
armin loves playing in your hair. like he really loves it.
ony got caught skipping school one day when he was in elementary 💀 that ass whoopin was one he’ll never forget.
eren talks so sweet to you but talks mean irl.
armin hates other girls for real, other than sasha and mikasa, and you of course.
connie dyed his happy trail grey.
y’all know them “play fights” boys be having and then they start hitting hard asf and then be breathing heavy asf when they done acting like nothing happened? connie and ony got into one of them in highschool. also armin and eren, and armin and connie.
eren used to have a bald spot from trying to cut his own hair with a razor.
last but not least, jean used to have that sad simpson pfp in middle school. 😭
Tumblr media
624 notes · View notes
idlyfretting · 2 years
Text
I want everything we missed between S3 and S4. I want all of it.
I want the kids starting high school and being totally overwhelmed by normal shit when they’ve only just gotten used to weird alternate dimension shit. 
I want Robin starting senior year and all of her friends from band and soccer and drama club and everything else being like “who the fuck is this person and what did they do with Robin????” because she comes back from summer break and is just not right.
I want Steve baffling Keith because he’s definitely flirting with every girl over the age of eighteen who walks into the store, but he’s not being a douchebag? He’s not being mean to Keith, like at all? He’s not being all buddy buddy with him obviously, because that would be fucking weird, but he’s just sort of being normal? Like a normal flirty good-looking former jock who knows how to talk to people? (And Keith definitely thinks he’s been flirting with every hot adult person who comes into the store, but it’s Steve fucking Harrington so that can’t be right????)
I want Nancy running that newspaper like it’s the goddamn New York Times and nobody even thinks to question her about anything because who the hell is gonna question Nancy Wheeler? She’s scary.
I want Eddie seeing these three freshies walk into the cafeteria with what he thinks is fear, but after corralling them and inviting them to Hellfire and making them eat lunch with him and the other members every day, realizes it’s not actually fear, it’s just sensory overload. They’re not actually afraid of the popular kids or the jocks or the teachers or the bullies, they’re just baffled. Almost like they didn’t realize it should be an issue at all?
And they start coming to Hellfire meetings and these kids are fantastic. Their characters are perfect additions to the group and the campaign he started at the beginning of the year is gonna be fucking aces because their group is so well rounded now. 
And sometimes Lucas bring his girlfriend Max Mayfield to the sessions, which isn’t so bad because she mostly just sits in the corner doing her homework or listening to music. But sometimes she does listen in, and scoffs at certain plot points in the story, or laughs at parts that definitely aren’t supposed to be funny.
And Robin Buckley shows up a couple times as well, mostly doing the same as Max, but one time she watched them play and it was nerve-wracking as hell having someone essentially stalking around them, giving whispered comments to the three freshmen that either resulted it grim nods or obnoxious laughter. Which, what the fuck, how does she know these kids???? (Kids who Eddie definitely thinks are half feral, but absolutely loves them anyway.)
But then one day late in October, the session runs late, and it’s just the Hellfire boys this time, and it’s a FANTASTIC boss fight (not the final one, but still a big damn deal), and everyone is tired but riding high on an epic win, and they all file out of the school into the cold parking lot. And just a couple spaces away from Eddie’s van is Steve fucking Harrington’s stupid maroon beemer. 
And Harrington is sitting on the trunk of it, leaning against the back windshield, casual as anything, with Robin fucking Buckley sitting right next to him. 
Leaning against him. Practically sitting in his goddamn lap.
She’s got a book propped open on her knees, combat boots up on the trunk, and she’s resting her head on his chest.
Harrington’s laying all the way back, stupid douchey sunglasses on, either staring at the sky or just full on sleeping. 
They’ve both got matching green vests on. 
A shout from one of the kids has them perking up to look in their direction. Robin rolls her eyes and marks her place in the book before hopping down from the car. Harrington stays where he is but sits up with a grin on his face.
Before Eddie can say anything, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike race over to them and start talking over each other about the campaign. About how fucking cool the session was, about the monster they defeated, about the tactics they had to use to survive the whole things. 
Eddie doesn’t know what he expects to happen, didn’t even consider the possibility of these nerdy freshman knowing Steve “The Hair” Harrington, but they obviously do. 
Harrington just nods along, asking them a question that Eddie can’t hear that spawns another slew of comments from the kids. The three of them pile into the backseat of the beemer while Buckley takes the front and Harrington slides into the driver’s seat. As the car starts up, the radio blares something loud and poppy and definitely something from the top 40. 
This doesn’t seem to deter the kids, who Eddie can see leaning forward from the back, still regaling Harrington and Buckley with their successful session. The red beemer pulls out of the lot, and continues down the street out of sight.
Eddie is still standing by the back entrance of the school, Gareth, Jeff, and Alan behind him. All of them frozen, completely dumbfounded by what the last five minutes.
“What the actual fuck?”
7K notes · View notes
die-pink-maus · 2 months
Text
Some Canon/Not So Canon König💋HeadCanons💋 (NSFW Included • MDNI)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
AN: These Are Just my thoughts and opinions of what I imagine König would be like IRL. I divided everything up into sections and there is a whole section dedicated to NSFW headcanons, so PLEASE…MDNI this is for the adults. Also, there is great mention of the words “wife” and “girlfriend” as I write this from the perspective of a woman.
Likes, Reblogs, & Positive Comments Are Greatly Appreciated 🫶🏼
Some MORE Canon/Not So Canon König 💋Headcanons💋 HERE
Enjoy! 💋
Tumblr media
🪖General Personality/Physical Appearance🪖
♡ Contrary to popular belief, I don’t think König is 6’10, he’s definitely gigantic but I would put him at around 6’5 - 6’7.
♡ Also contrary to popular belief, I do genuinely think that social anxiety and overall insecurity is something he grows out of overtime. While overcoming all of this was no easy feat, he’s learned to be more self assured and makes sure everyone Around him knows that he is HIM. His confidence really shines through in his duties as Colonel and his physical capabilities. Some may view him as cocky or arrogant, but he’s just really proud of the work he’s done on himself 🤷🏼‍♀️
♡ He’s definitely a HUGE nerd, but he wears that shit with pride. He loves reading classic literature, is great at math, and probably plays dungeons and dragons. Definitely spends hours on end finishing puzzles and building shit for his cats 😂
♡ Muscular AF. Huuuuge muscular arms, toned chest and defined thighs. I don’t think he has “washboard” abs, you can see them mainly when he flexes, his tummy is a bit soft 🥰 He goes to the gym at least 5 days a week
♡ Despite wearing a mask, I think König is more than likely very handsome. Strong jawline, chiseled facial features, a perfectly imperfect smile. He’s probably got an old school charm about him, the kind that can make a woman weak in the knees with just one look, especially with those eyes 😮‍💨
♡ 100% a cat Dad. Most likely has an unhinged orange cat and a black cat. In general I think he adores animals and spends most of his free time with his cats
♡ Veeeeeerrry good with money. Has been saving since he joined the military and treats himself and his girlfriend or wife to many luxuries. He 100% loves to spoil the people he loves and has prepared so that they never have to want for anything.
♡ Comes off stone cold until you get to know him, but it’s mostly because he has RBF without his mask 🤣
♡ Tells like…really bad dad jokes that he can’t finish without laughing hysterically, and his laugh is so insane that it causes others to laugh
♡ He’s definitely happiest at home. He’s an introvert, but can and will go out and socialize if he needs to. Prefers a gathering at a friend or family members house as opposed to a bar or club
♡ Loves his Bier. Will usually have one after a long day of training recruits while he watches some random show he stumbled on while flipping channels.
♡ If he gets drunk everyone knows because he will start going on and on about how much he loves the people he’s around, which is something they don’t hear too often, if at all, unless you are his wife or girlfriend
💗In a Relationship/Family Life💗
♡ Again, lol, contrary to popular belief…I think König would be more attracted to a woman with voluptuous curves. Not too petite and not too curvaceous, but somewhere in between.
♡ König would be the best boyfriend ever…but he’d also be stubborn af.
♡ When arguing with his SO, he’ll often get frustrated easily and kinda shut down, but once he takes a few minutes to himself to think things through, he really enjoys communicating and having an open dialogue about whatever you were fighting about
♡ CUDDLES GALORE. He wants to be all over his girl at allllll times. Not really one for extreme PDA, but behind closed doors he cannot seem to get his hands off of you.
♡ Loves when you cook for him, and loves to cook for you. Loves it even more when you cook together!
♡ Expensive gifts for absolutely no reason at all. Will literally stand behind his SO as they browse their favourite stores online and take mental notes of the things you say you like. Don’t be surprised when that $2000 hand bag you adored shows up at your front door.
♡ Is an incredible father. Prides himself on being a hands on dad. Will do practically anything for his children, and teaches them German at a very young age. Ensures they are well equipped to handle the bullshit life may throw at them, but tries his best to prevent any of said bullshit from coming their way.
♡ Never yells at his wife or their children. Generally hates conflict and will do what he can to resolve anything.
♡ His wife/girlfriend is the most important thing in the world to him. He would do anything for her, and anything to protect her
♡ 100% scary bf privilege. You can go out and do whatever you please and no one fucks with you because they know König is only a call or text away and he can and will get rid of you without anyone even noticing
😈In the Bedroom😈
♡ Remember when I said he was gigantic? His height isn’t the only thing I’m talking about 😩😮‍💨🤭 That man is blessed and highly favoured.
♡ He’s at least 8 inches hard, uncut, and veiny. He doesn’t shave everything off, but he always ensures he’s well groomed.
♡ He loves making love to you, but he loves fucking you even more.
♡ Passionate as fuck. Worships every inch of your body from head to toe.
♡ He loves to tease his SO. Spends as much time as he can getting to know just what gets her hot. Watching every jolt of her body as his lips suck on certain spots. Listening to every moan and whimper as his fingers grope and squeeze her soft flesh. He wants you to be so wet you’re practically begging to take every inch of his massive cock, and even then, he won’t give it to you until you ask for it in German 🤭
♡ Could spend hours eating your pussy. Wants to make sure you cum at least 5 times before he even thinks about getting himself off. He will eat you out any time, anywhere — bedroom, laundry room, kitchen counter, you name it
♡ Loves the look on your face when you see him in uniform. He knows it gets your heart racing, and he loves fucking you with his sniper hood on.
♡ He adores the look on your face as his long thick rod stretches you open. The widening, glossy eyes, your mouth hung slightly open as his hardness fills your tight wet pussy.
♡ He loves talking dirty. “I know you like that.”, “is this what you wanted?”, “good girl, look at you taking this fat cock so well”, “such a good little slut”
♡ He loves getting rough, so long as you allow it. He loves choking you while he’s balls deep inside you, grinding his thick tip against your cervix as you let out small breathless moans
♡ Loves watching how small you are beneath him, loves watching your tits bounce up and down as he ploughs his cock into you over and over
♡ Loves watching your ass jiggle as he slams into you from behind, your hair wrapped around his wrist as he fucks you mercilessly
♡ Loves fucking you in front of a full length mirror so you can see how pretty you look taking his long fat cock
♡ Loves cumming inside you or in your pretty little mouth, on your knees while you look up at him and swallow his seed like a good girl 😍
♡ Provides the BEST aftercare. Takes a nice warm bath or shower with you, carrying you off back into bed once you’ve dried off. Plenty of cuddles in those big strong arms of his, and lots of head/cheek kisses. Whispered praises of how amazing you are, and how much he loves you. Will bring up some of your favourite snacks or chef up an entire meal for afterwards
792 notes · View notes
ma1dita · 8 months
Text
kiss his face with an uppercut
Tumblr media
smutty part 2 here-> heavy hitter
words: 4k
summary: james potter is so attractive you could beat him to death with a bludger. james potter x fem!beater!reader not from gryffindor (for the plot!!)
warnings: none! james gets physically hurt multiple times by reader, multiple innuendos, enemies to lovers kinda, less serious lovey dove more sexual tension!!! probably not accurate quidditch gameplay
a/n: sorry for the hold up guys this took almost a month of on and off editing lmfao— this whole oneshot makes me think of the filipino word ‘gigil’– simply translating to cuteness aggression; i barely know jack shit about sports much less quidditch but this concept had me looking up quidditch rules to be able to provide– eat up kids
Y/S- sibling name
Y/H- house
(posted & edited 10/10/23)
Oh BROTHER, this guy STINKS! I mean, how has he not gotten walloped at least once during this godforsaken game? You suck your teeth at the sight of James flying around the pitch blowing kisses to his fan club and Lily Evans, who turns her nose up at the sight of him.
Merlin, when will this game end?
The Hogwarts Quidditch Semi-Finals of 1977 was a game to watch… until both teams stopped scoring what seemed like hours ago. Both Gryffindor & (Y/H) were at a stalemate, down some players due to injury and now, even lower team morale. Gryffindor team captain and chaser James Potter, notorious Marauder, and resident flirt, is not someone who likes to lose. He’s spent all season drilling his teammates, memorizing plays, and thinking of every outcome possible to ensure another Gryffindor victory. James’ affinity to be right takes precedence over anything, after all. But after beating down almost all of (Y/H)’s reserves, James was almost vibrating with confidence. He really doesn’t lose, not if he can help it.
“AND ANOTHER (Y/H) IS DOWN WITH AN INJURY— Team captain Whithall calls for a timeout as they reconvene on what to do next! Hope you’re still comfy in the stands, folks….” the student announcer grumbles.
There’s absolute chaos on the field, and like birds scuffling over a piece of bread, (Y/S), the team’s last good beater is floating on a gurney, ready to be transported to the Hospital Wing.
“Oh, here comes trouble…” Sirius murmurs, smacking James on the back to grab his attention.
You jump down from the stands to check on (Y/S), and James is too busy reveling in the idea of winning the goddamn semi-finals that he doesn’t notice you putting Quidditch gear on.
“Easy win from here on out, Pads! The little lady’s just checking the damage. Not important,” he chortles before Sirius physically grabs his head to face the girl walking towards him, currently storming across the turf to meet him and his team.
“I’m subbing in,” you say, angry at how dirty Gryffindor’s been playing, and angry that you even have to play in (Y/S)’s stead.
“Sweetheart, this game is for serious, you know that right?” James says a bit dumbly with a furrowed brow. Both of you are head to head, and James sees the twitch in your eye as you cross your arms. Hot air is seeping out of your pores but James’s lip simply quirks up in intrigue. You’re someone he hasn’t noticed before, and the only thing running through his mind besides winning the game is that you’re really pretty. But then again, he’s always found angry women to be attractive, in retrospect.
“Yeah, for the actual cup, not…for Sirius… It’s the wrong time to joke, innit?” Sirius says to break the ice, noticing the palpable tension between your glares. Your faces are inches away from each other and he’s not sure if you two are going to fight or kiss, but it makes him grimace all the same.
“Who do you think (Y/S) practices with? Unlike you and your friends, I know when to take things seriously,” You say through gritted teeth.
“She’s legit, Potter. Got added to our reserves last week.” Whithall pipes up, ready to get back to the game. The crowd has been weathered down after hours of anticipation, and they want to see the end of it, no matter the outcome.
“Much to my surprise,” you grumble, elbowing the authority in the form of a teenage boy not much older than yourself. You should’ve known your sibling was looking a little too happy as they got floated off the pitch on a gurney.
“Then let’s play. Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” James says condescendingly, floating away on his broomstick like it’s a walk in the park, but the way you’re slapping the bat against your palm is getting Sirius a tiny bit nervous for his precious countenance. The whistle blows and the game resumes.
“A SURPRISE ADDITION (Y/N) JOINS HER HOUSE AS BEATER! Gryffindor better watch out for her swi—” You slam the bludger in James’s direction and it hurtles toward him so fast that he almost folds in half, barrel-rolling on his broom to dodge it. The move makes Sirius and a few of their other teammates gasp to see James scrambling back onto his broom.
“Oops! Looks like I missed.” you deadpan, balancing midair as you whack another one where it rebounds off the Gryffindor seeker and back towards James, hitting both of them in the gut.
“THIS GIRL’S GOT AN ARM ON HER! Though might I say her hits look a bit targeted…” The commentator says worriedly, and everyone in the crowd is leaning in their seats trying to get a better view.
“Merlin, are you trying to kill me woman?” he yells in outrage.
“I’m trying to finish the game. Your big head is in the way,” you say with a straight face as Sirius bats towards you, and you spin on your broomstick without shifting your posture. The smile on your face as you taunt him should be considered criminal, but he’s looking at you in a new light.
Yeah, now he’s paying attention. The other Gryffindor players can’t seem to figure out your next move and you bat another bludger towards Potter’s extremely large target of a head, and all of a sudden he’s freefalling through the air as his teammates fly to catch him, one by one. His nose still makes impact with the ground before Sirius catches by the ankle like Achilles taking a dip in the River Styx.
“AND (Y/H) HAS CAPTURED THE SNITCH! Good job to their Seeker, Appleby! Congratulations on a job well done, so that we can all finally go home.” The commentator cringes as McGonagall swats at him to leave the podium.
Who even is she, taking over the game and stealing his win like that?
He’s walking up from the sidelines with a bloody nose, going to shake Whithall’s hand and you’re standing behind him, a malicious grin plastered between your rosy cheeks, windswept and almost ethereal while he looks like he got flattened by a hippogriff. Fuck, she’s pretty. You look like you floated down from the heavens, and by the looks his team gives him, he may have just crawled out of the earth.
“Congrats,” he grumbles, turning to you. Really pretty. It’s even worse that you’re devastatingly stunning up close— with sweat glistening on your brow and a pearly white smile, he takes a good moment to really look at you and memorize the flutter of your eyelashes. He’s unsure if he’s concussed or maybe it’s his astigmatism, but there are actual stars in his vision as he peers down at you. Your confidence is actually kind of sexy.
“You look…um…you ride well.” He stutters, shaking his head from his personal reverie.
“Excuse me?” you say, your little mouth agape in what he hopes is not disgust. He looks pathetic, blood sopping down to his jersey as he looks at you like he’s only seeing you for the first time, acknowledging you closely. Something about seeing him flail makes you crinkle your nose as you stifle a grin.
“I mean…Um…” Damn.
Sirius pulls his best friend away before you can bite back your laughter, all of your teammates leading you away to celebrate.
“Mate, what the shit was that? Are you alright in the head?” Sirius says, and if James’ nose wasn’t already bleeding he was going to slap him silly.
“Just…Didn’t see that coming…” he mumbles, and his mind, along with all of Gryffindor is in disarray as they walk back to their tower. He’s got a lot of thinking to do on what his next move will be.
James Potter goes through life in three methodical ways: 1.) creating a strategy, 2.) making a scene, 3.) and dragging his friends into it— in that particular order, every single time.
Now notice how considering consequences is not part of said process.
His ego wouldn’t let him rest after a girl, much less a very pretty one that he’d never noticed before—beat him at what he does best; quidditch! In fact, the next few nights were void of sleep and filled with thoughts of you. The way your hair looked so soft in the sunlight, how your lip turns almost Gryffindor red when you bite it in concentration, and maybe how your delicate hands would look as they tightly grasp onto his bat...ahem…your quidditch bat. Some dirty delusions aside, if looks could kill, he’d be dead seven times over, but honestly? He’d probably thank you for it.
James’ new mission was to figure you out, and if that was his mission, it meant it was the rest of the Marauders’ too. For the sake of winning the Cup, of course. That’s what he tries to tell himself until his mates catch him ogling you again at breakfast.
“So what is it with you and girls that inflict you nothing but pain and humiliation?” Remus muses, as the Marauders watch James laugh at a joke you told your friends at the (Y/H) table across the Great Hall. He looks at you like someone who stares at the sun, squinting and burning himself as he ponders on why he’s unable to look away.
James fumbles a response, shoving Remus as they all laugh. “Listen, I’ve got a bit of a masochistic streak, Moony. Just…There’s something about her…”
Your friends are pointing at him now, and as you turn to meet his eyes, you lift a brow inquisitively and flip him off. Sirius’s face pulls up in shock at James’s growing smile at the interaction as he mumbles, “Maybe you’ve met your match, Prongs…”
The boy pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, anything to try to see you clearer as he leans over to put his head in his hands, sighing dreamily. His friends are not as easily amused.
“A match made in heaven, you reckon?”
“Match made in hell, more like!” You spit, almost choking on your scrambled eggs at your friends’ insinuations. Your back is as stiff as a board, shoulders tight at the notion of you ever liking James Potter triggering your fight or flight response. When it comes to someone as pompous as him, only the word fight comes to mind.
“Oh come on, love… He’s popular, funny, and quite handsome…It’s James freaking Potter we’re talking about!” your roommate gushes, but you're not the least bit impressed.
“Is that supposed to do anything for me? I can think of a few F words that middle initial can stand for…” Eyes rolling, you peek back at the Gryffindor table to see said boy wiggling his fingers at you teasingly until he accidentally smacks Peter in the face with his toast. Idiot.
“Only hot people get away with stupid shit. I mean look at the four of them!” you continue, gulping down the rest of your coffee. “Potter’s the worst out of all of them though. Big ass head must compensate for a lot of things." You say, shaking your head at your friends.
"And yet, here you are, talking about him for the fourth time this morning," your roommate replies, smirking. " You’ve been Potter crazy since you helped us beat Gryffindor in the semi-finals! Are you sure you don't have a crush on him?"
"No!" you say too quickly, too loudly, that the shrill noise of your voice makes your ears hurt and the shit-eating grins on your friends’ faces reflect how desperate that came off. You slump onto the table, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“You wanna kiss him, don’t you?” they tease, and you push away their puckering faces as you scoff, “With an uppercut, maybe!” Almost makes you want to stomp over there and wipe the stupid look off his face…and maybe sit on his lap. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. All this aggression really needs to go somewhere, but unfortunately, James Potter’s lap is the only destination you have in mind.
“He’s just really punchable. I get so annoyed by the sight of him I just want to… ugh!” you groan, your hands shaking as you try to convince them (or yourself). Your friends cackle at the sight of you pretending to squeeze his curly-topped, mothball-filled head, but your brain changes course and you imagine what it’s like to hold his hand. Your fingers flex cautiously at the idea, wondering what his touch would feel like. Grabbing a glass of water to cool your thoughts, your peripherals reveal he’s still staring at you like you make night turn into day. His gaze is searing, and as you put your lips around your straw, he licks his lips slowly. Shit.
Availability bias is one hell of a mindfuck. If only they taught psychology at this magic school, maybe the wizarding world would have way fewer problems and more people would be straightforward and not.. Dead. James decides he can categorize his life now as before you, and after you.
Before you, well… he honestly wasn’t even sure if you were a student at Hogwarts until he saw you marching down the pitch, but now… You’re everywhere. He can spot your voice in a crowded hallway, and who was going to tell him you’ve had three classes with him this whole term? Even down to when he shuts his eyes, he’s convinced his eyelids are branded with the imprint of your silhouette. Every conversation he strikes with you ends with you laughing at him, and he’s unsure if that’s a step up or down from the many boisterous rejections from Lily Evans over the years. He sort of wishes you’d laugh with him, and do a number of other things, (heck he’s got a list of ideas he’s wanked off to), and well… His soul is tightly wound with thoughts of you and Godric, listen to this guy…. maybe the boys were right…. Maybe he really does need to get laid.
It’s funny how fate works, two people who’ve barely interacted in the past six years at Hogwarts are now paired together for a History of Magic essay worth 20% of the term grade. You’re trying to get this done as fast as possible, he notices, mapping out ideas and trying to discuss how to piece it all together, yet James does everything but that to get you to pay attention to him. He fills your head with mundane little questions, asking you what your favorite fruit is to the childhood bedtime story your parents told you as a kid.
“What’s your middle name, Potter?” You muse, finally entertaining him after endless chatter. His eyes trail to the exposed skin of your collarbones as you stretch in your seat, and well… you don’t look as menacing as you always do but did it seriously have to be this question? He scratches the back of his head, silent for the first time in the two hours you’ve been trying to craft this essay for the sake of both your grades.
“What? I can’t just go around calling you James Fucking Potter. Spit it out, you know too much about me already.”
He clears his throat, a blush creeping up his neck. “It’s… that’s an intimate question, love… I…”
Your laughter at his response makes his senses shut down. “Oh, so it’s bad. What is it, Franklin? Fabio? Come on, I won’t bite.” A part of him wishes you would, your face equally flushed and so close to him right now, almost leering at him for an answer. It’d be easy to just lean over…
“Fleamont.”
Your lips quirk, until they pucker like you’ve guzzled a lemon. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, and the sound explodes out of you. You laugh so loudly Madam Pince kicks you both out of the library, James carrying both your knapsacks, a hand around your waist as you rush out of there. Your body is firm under his touch, pupils unfocused and dilated looking at him now that you know his dirty little secret. James thinks that if you keep looking at him like that, hell, you can call him anything you want.
Fleamont.
What a prick. A really attractive, clueless prick. The memory makes you giggle as you get ready for the Quidditch Cup and your team charges out onto the field to face Gryffindor again, as you’ve both advanced to the finals. He’s not as much of an asshole as you originally thought. It’s undeniable that something pulls you towards him, whether it be hormones, concern, or the fact that it’s actually adorable the way he writes his mother back weekly, or admirable how he moved Sirius out of Black Manor himself last year. Maybe it’s endearing the way he goes out of his way to make first-years smile or heartwarming how even Filch can’t find reasons to hate him. The golden boy. You get it now, why people get trapped in his web, and why many are unwilling to leave.
You pass him outside the locker rooms, bumping shoulders as he smiles almost bashfully. The golden boy, loudmouth, ball of energy is reduced to a nervous pile of teenage ineptness at the sight of you, every time. You could take him (not in a fight). In an actual fight, maybe you could land a few solid hits before his nice muscly arms hold you do—
“Ready to finish this, darling?”
Your eyes refocus when his hand nudges the small of your back, right above your hip. “Mhmm,” you clear your throat, “Ready to lose, Potter?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He moves closer, slowly backing you into the wall.
“Eyes on the prize Potter, I’m in this to win it.” You say, looking at the closing distance between both your chests. James nods, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment, even when the announcer calls out the imminent start of the game.
“WELCOME TO THE HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH CUP OF 1977 GRYFFINDOR VS. (Y/H)! I hope you are all excited as our last match between these teams was quite thrilling at the end of it!” The announcer says, hyping up the roaring crowd as your teams parade onto the pitch.
His eyes are still on you when he shakes Whithall’s hand and the whistle blows. It’s intense, and makes you feel like you’re burning, even if the wind is blowing like crazy today. You bat the bludgers toward anything red on the field that even dares to move toward your teammates. James won’t stop staring at you, and you both lock eyes across the pitch.
“What? Flirt with me later, Potter, I’m trying to win!” you yell.
He’s got you transfixed, and it’s crazy how his timing is always wrong. You bat the bludger away from your captain but don’t notice James flying towards you to respond as you give it your hardest swing, making the impact against his huge target of a head all the more painful.
Holy shit, did you kill him?
He keels off his broom like a shot bird and then he’s falling, and you’re the one chasing the Gryffindor chaser as he flaps his arms like the idiot you know he is as you push forward to catch him before he splits his skull open.
“I’msofuckingsorryJamesareyouokay?” You blurt out as you land, soft hands moving over his broad chest and quickly swelling face. He’s wearing that stupid grin again, and you think you may have finally broken Gryffindor’s team captain.
“You know my name?” he sighs happily, comfortable in your lap and maybe it’s the brain damage you’ve caused him or the way his glasses are bent beyond repair but you will every magical predecessor you can think of to stop you from punching him in the face right now.
“Are you fucking dense?” You scream, shaking your head, and jostling him as his arms try to reach out to swipe the hair away from your face.
“Must’ve hit him so hard you knocked his filter loose..” Sirius muses after he lands next to you two on the grass.
“POTTER’S TAKEN A HIT FROM (Y/H) and it doesn’t look good ladies and gents! Gryffindor calls a timeout to check on their captain!” The announcer calls out, and there are so many eyes on the two of you as James is simply giggling like a prepubescent schoolboy. Fuck, you’ve maimed the golden boy.
“Y’know, sweetheart. You’re…really sexy when you’re on top of me like this,” he says breathily, and you really can’t hit him, so you jab Sirius in the gut instead when he tries to laugh at his best friend’s stupidity.
James wakes up in the hospital wing with a blinding headache until someone gently pulls the curtains closed, stroking the hair off his sweaty forehead.
“Poppy you always take such good care of me…” he mumbles. A punch lands on his chest and his eyes rip open, not expecting to see you at his bedside.
“Idiot,” you mutter. “You’re always in my way and now look, you almost got yourself killed and it would’ve been my fault! How dare you, James…” The red is crawling up your neck like a brushfire as you berate him, and he takes it with a grin as you jabber on, putting his arms behind his head.
“Were you worried about me, love?” James smiles cheesily, catching your arm at its half-hearted attempt to slap him across the face.
“I was not. Stubborn people like you are hard to kill. I’m more annoyed that I can’t morally punch your face in since you have a concussion. Madame Pomfrey’s already healed your cheekbone.”
“That you broke,” he says matter-of-factly, taking a chance to kiss the palm of your hand. This concussion is working like a bottle of Felix Felicis. It’s endearing to see you taking care of him, whether you like it or not (even with the punches he’s sure it’ll come with).
“You’re sick in the head.”
“For you. I was trying to come tell you that I never took my eyes off the prize, but then of course you bludgeoned my face in before I could get sweet on yo—”
Your lips crash down on his, and nothing about it is delicate. It’s a month’s worth of yearning, imaginations coming to fruition as he grabs the back of your head to deepen the embrace. Your lips on his are hot and heady, and he could be easily convinced that he’s stuck there, cauterized to the shape of you.
“I know. I could feel you watching.” You breathe into his mouth, leaning up on his chest. His lips chase up again to meet yours, biting down on your bottom lip as you groan. He might like that noise better than the sound of your laughter. It’ll be fun to find out.
“Who won the Cup?”
Laughter spills out of your red, kiss-swollen lips as you pat his cheek gently, fingers grazing over his healed cheekbone.
“Not Gryffindor. But listen closely James, if you be a good boy and get past this concussion, I’ll make up for it by showing you how well I ride…”
He likes the sound of that, Quidditch Cup be damned. You see, James Potter never loses, ladies and gentlemen, not really—and well... there’s always next year.
“I like the way
you look at me
like you are
going to talk to me
or devour me
and I am fine with either.”
-N.R. Hart
taglist: @jsjcue
1K notes · View notes
emeritusemeritus · 6 months
Text
Squirm, Hellfire Queen [Eddie Munson X Reader]
Tumblr media
Title: Squirm, Hellfire Queen.
Pairing: Eddie Munson X Reader {Established Relationship}
Timeline: S4, No mention of Vecna.
Summary: You’re a little uncomfortable at Hellfire Club and Eddie investigates.
Warnings: Mentions of smut, creampies, cum, cumplay, secret relationships. Swearing (it’s Eddie after all). Dustin being my favourite character to write once again. I don’t think ‘Freak’ is mentioned but it’s my own HC that he’s called Richard, in case that comes up. Not beta read nor spellchecked, we die like Chrissy.
Tumblr media
"Dude, you okay?" Dustin asks, leaning over the table towards you, earning an immediate glare from the dungeon master from interrupting the game. Dustin holds up his hands in surrender sarcastically, falling back into his seat and focusing his attention back on the game, all under the watchful eye of the seemingly omniscient dungeon master.
A few minutes pass before you move again, adjusting your hips in your seat as you wince subconsciously, earning you another confused glance from Gareth, sitting directly across from you.
"You saw it too? Right!" Dustin speaks out again, clicking his fingers mid air as he turns to you with a questioning gaze.
Heat rushes to your cheeks as you feel a blush bloom over your face at the attention you were unwittingly receiving. You shake your head, trying not to meet anyone's gaze, pretending to focus all of your attention at the game, analysing your character sheet to study your hit points.
You attempt to keep yourself under control, not to draw any more attention to yourself then you have already but only a few moments later your eyes close and you suck in a silent breath, fighting every instinct you have not to squirm in your seat.
Your writhing and obvious discomfort had caught the attention of the dungeon master sat at the head of the table, his gaze focusing in on you as he watches your curious movements. You can feel his gaze blazing on you and so you finally find the courage to look up at him, meeting his gaze.
You thought initially that he would be angry with you, for drawing away attention from his, frankly brilliant, campaign but as you gazed in his eyes, it was clear that not a single ounce of anger was present. Instead, he looked upon with intense curiosity and intrigue, eyes wide and orientated upon your figure. The table blocked the majority of his view of you, but he watched with interest as you readjusted your hips in your seat, pulling down on your skirt, full lips parted in a small 'o' shape, eyes fixed on nothing in the distance.
When you met his eyes again, your blush deepened, eyes widening like a deer in headlights as you tried to avert your gaze immediately. A smirk tugged at the side of his mouth as he realised exactly what was happening. He took a brief look around at his little sheep around him, each of them blissfully ignorant of what was happening just a few seats down.
"Eddie?" Mike asks gently, trying to get his attention.
"Huh?" Eddie asks, not realising that he had zoned out, lost in his own thoughts.
"We decide to flee," Mike says slowly, gesturing with his eyes to look at the game board below, seeing that there was so way out of the trap Eddie had created.
"Oh yeah man, course," Eddie says, earning a mixture of questioning and confused glances from the boys, and girl, around the table, each of them expecting him to make a bigger deal of it.
"Tell you what, we hang it up right here, next week we begin from this point exactly and you give me your intelligent decision then," Eddie says, clasping his hands together as he sits back on his throne, eyes squinting as he smirks.
"Princess, a word?" Eddie says, using your nickname as he looks directly at you. You nod, silently, laughing gently as the rest of the boys 'ooo' at you, assuming you are in trouble.
They quickly gather their belongings, saying bye to the dungeon master and the princess as they head out the door, leaving the rest of the cleanup to Eddie as usual.
Once he is confident that everyone has dispersed, the dungeon master leaps up from his throne and strides over to the door, locking it from the inside. He turns and fixes his dangerous gaze upon you, a smug smirk pulling at his lips as he begins to saunter over to you.
"It appears you caused a scene Princess," he says threateningly, running his hands along the back of your chair. You open your mouth to apologise but think better of it, no longer feeling embarrassed by your 'issue' now you were alone with the perpetrator.
"I'm not really the one to blame here am I, master?" You snark back, your voice breathy and deep, exactly how you knew he liked it. He cursed under his breath, especially at hearing his title, something he always enjoyed hearing fall from your lips.
"Pray tell, what is causing the fair maidens troubles?" He asks dramatically, leaning down to tower over you, his lips ghosting you neck as he speaks. You were about to open your mouth with another sarcastic reply but instead, decided to show him. You scooted your chain back every so slightly, the chair grinding on the linoleum floor the only sound that could be heard in the silent room.
His gaze immediately fixes on the skin of your thighs, your skirt riding up as you took your seat.
With a dangerously flirty smirk, you open your legs wide enough for him to see exactly what has been causing your discomfort during the hellfire session, your skirt riding even further up with your movement, blocking any obstruction.
He breaths in a sharp breath, curses falling from his lips as his eyes bulge, his gaze fixated on the space between your thighs, showing him exactly what your problem was.
Between your thighs, your panties were completely soaked, melded to your puffy pussy lips, with extra wetness leaking out onto the seat below you, pooling under your butt.
He's frozen to the spot, fixated on the sight before him, unable move, unable to speak.
"Seems like it's more of an 'us' problem to me, dungeon master," you tease, lifting your hand to run one finger over your panties and into the little pool below, feeling the mixture of your arousal and his cum beneath your finger.
"Jesus Christ," is all he manages to spit out, his eyes following your finger diligently as it trails gently over your panties, still sensitive from your activities earlier.
One of the most wonderful things about Eddie is just how much he cums. It's like he's hoarding it, right up until the last second where he unleashes everything he has, flooding you and leaving no doubt to where he's been.
"No wonder you were squirming sweetheart," he says, finally breaking his gaze to look up into your eyes, seeing a smile on your lips that completely knocks him for six. The mixture of your sweet smile, deliciously used body and evidence of his defilement was enough to render him completely useless, brain turning to mush as he looks at you with all the love and adoration he can. His tone is gentle again, using the pet name he favoured for sweet moments, if that was what you would call this. "To think I was going to ask you to stand and address the class," he smirks, shaking his head slightly.
"Yeah something tells me that would have been a disaster, I could barely keep your load in sitting down!" You reply, giggling. His lips part and his eyebrows shoot up as he lets out a strangled groan at your words, your beautiful, dirty mouth always affecting him. "You think the guys noticed?" You asked suddenly, worrying that someone would have caught on to your discomfort.
No one knew what was happening, what had been happening, between you and Eddie for quite some time. You'd been best friends from your first encounter, though the friendship was laced with innuendos, teasing, flirtation and downright mutual pining right from the very beginning. Your relationship had bloomed organically, never having felt so right, but it was locked away as both of your dirty little secrets. You'd become close with all the hellfire club and the bigger friendship group around it and were concerned about the implication it could have on your friendships if you just became 'Eddie's girl'.
You'd been successfully hiding your relationship for nearly 7 months and so far, not a single person had caught on.
"Sweetheart, I say this with all the love and devotion in the world, those guys wouldn't have a single clue about this sort'a thing," he smirks, leaning in to kiss you.
"Two of them have girlfriends!" You reply, breaking away, trying to argue the point. He snorts, shaking his head, leaning in for another kiss.
"Trust me baby, they're clueless nerds," he says with a sarcastic smile.
"As opposed to you... dungeon master," you reply sarcastically. He immediately reaches out to grab you, tickling your sides but he stops when you let out a strangled gasp, thinking he'd hurt you.
"What, baby, wh-?" He panics, causing you to laugh.
"Lets just say, I'm pretty sure I'm empty now," you blush, gesturing down to the chair below you where even more of Eddie's cum has leaked out in your frantic movements. He bites back a groan again at the scene before him and immediately looks up at you with a smirk.
"Can't have that can we sweetheart? Just gonna have to fill you up aaaall over again."
"Promises, promises," you smirk, pulling him down for one last kiss, before attempting to stand up, your face twisting into a grimace as you do. Eddie offers his hand out for you and helps you up onto the seat, his eyes flicking to your now unoccupied chair and he tries to fix the image to his memory for later use.
"We really need to start using condoms," you mutter, feeling the sticky residue clinging to your lower half, frowning at the state of the chair. You were on the pill, so no risk there, but situations like this were growing ever more frequent... and uncomfortable.
"Blasphemy!" Eddie mutters, pulling you in to him arms as his ringed hand comes to play with your hair and your jaw. You laugh sweetly at his outburst and he chuckles deeply to himself as his eyes wonder over your face.
You both pull away and immediately set to packing away all the game pieces, books and sheets that litter the table, both ready to be out of this room.
You grimace as you walk over to a cabinet at the side of the room, the wet clothes becoming increasingly uncomfortable as you bend down to reach for a pack of antibacterial wipes which are stored in the little cleaning cupboard. You make quick work of cleaning up the chair you'd defiled and can't help but laugh with Eddie as he sees just how many wipes it takes to clean it up.
Throwing the used wipes in the trash, you look over to Eddie who has packed everything into his cardboard box and is waiting for you.
You pause, weighing up your options before bending down and peeling off the wet panties, feeling an immediately chill as your bare pussy hides underneath your skirt. Eddie doesn't bother to hide his groan as he sees you take off your panties, before stuffing them inside your lunch bag so that they wouldn't ruin any of your notes.
"You're telling me, I've got to walk these halls, get across the car park and drive us all the way home, knowing that there's nothing under your little skirt?" He groans, pulling you towards him as you walk closer. You immediately feel the telling bulge pressed against you as he holds you tightly to him, causing you to smirk.
"That depends," you tease, running your fingers over his neck, making his breathing deeper and shaky with arousal.
"On what, Princess?" He asks, eyes blazing.
"We could wait... tease each other slowly and let it simmer until we get back to your trailer where you can have me however and wherever you want," you tease, your mouth pressing kisses to his throat as you speak, smiling as you feel his bulge jumping and throbbing at your hip. "Or, I could offer you some relief right now..." you say, pouting your lips in such a way that he knows exactly what you mean. "Though, if you can't wait, I can't promise that I can wait till we get home to play with my little pussy myself."
"Fuck," he curses, followed by a near painful groan as he takes in your words, his entire body shaking to try and calm himself. He reaches down to adjust himself completely without subtlety and groans again at the slightest touch. "Van. Now."
Tumblr media
789 notes · View notes