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#or ''uh it was nothing he was just an asshole''
hunterofartemis7 · 10 hours
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Pt.11
*at the police station*
Bruce: do I even want to know how you ALL got arrested?
Jason: we have a very good reason!
Bruce: oh I’d love to hear it
Jason: a doctor was very rude to raven and made her cry
Tim: and he had so many complaints from different female staff and female patients so we took matters into our own hands
Bruce:…yeah that’s a good reason. *pays their bail*
Cop: *lets them all out*
Dick: btw, where are the birds at?
Bruce: outside with Kori and Selena
Jason: cat moms here?
Bruce: yes
Jason:….put me back in the cell
*outside*
Raven: I didn’t think they would get arrested
Damian: I did
Selina: I mean, they had a good reason.
Kori: you think the doctor will sue them?
Selina: he can try, but Bruce had better lawyers
Raven: how much was their bail?
Selina: probably a couple hundred a piece. Why?
Raven: cause I need to know how much to pay Bruce back for
Bruce: *coming out of the jail* you’re not paying me back for anything Raven.
Raven: but they got arrested because of me…
Jason: no we got arrested because no one fucks with our family.
Raven:..thank you, for sticking up for me
Dick: anytime Rae.
Bruce: so what exactly did he do to make you cry and make them THAT angry?
Jason: uhhhhh…..
Raven:…..
Tim: *gives her the “we say nothing if you don’t want us to” look*
Selina: well??
Raven: *mumbles* he..was saying awful things about me..and my baby..
Selina: BABY!?!?
Bruce: your pregnant?
Raven: *nods* I..I’m sorry I didn’t tell y—*gets tackled by Selina*
Selina: CONGRATULATIONS!!!! MY WORDS IM GONNA BE A GRANDMA! 🥹
Bruce: *hugs her as well* congratulations my dear! I’m so happy for you! *turns to Damian and hugs him* congratulations son
Damian: thank you father
Jason: B this is your first grandchild
Bruce: I know.🥹
Dick: so we’re celebrating now..okay. *takes a breath* IM GONNA BE AN UNCLE!!! *bear hugs Damian*
Damian: UNHAND ME GRAYSON!
Jason: I’m really happy for you two but also…*punches Damian in the arm* WHAT THE HELL MAN?!
Damian: what was that for!?
Jason: uh maybe for not telling us sooner!! Our baby brother is having a baby and you didn’t tell us immediately! How long have you known!?
Raven: little over a week…
Jason: REALLY!?
Damian: we were going to tell you!
Tim: when?
Damian: in like…3 months
Selina: THREE MONTHS!?
Kori: guys, stop yelling
Jason: give me one good reason why!?
Kori: *motions to raven who’s tearing up*
Raven: I’m sorry…😣
Jason: Rae…no no sweetheart it’s okay, don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong
Raven:😖😭 *hormones suck*
Damian: way to go asshole *hugs raven close, rubbing her back*
Dick: Rae were not actually mad, we’re just giving Damian shit.
Tim: yeah we didn’t mean to make you upset.
Jason: *looks at Kori like “this will be a long few months”*
Kori:😑
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moonybug444 · 1 day
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back together, ig
| tw: dubcon, lowkey noncon?? reader tries to kick him off of her, emotional abuse, toxic relationship, connie’s your mean ex boyfriend stuck on you |
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“i’ll be in and out baby,” no he won’t. “promise.”
you take the phone away from your ear and sit it on your bed like it’s gonna help your decision. i’ll be in and out baby. yeah fucking right. he says that all the time and then he tries to fuck you. well he does fuck you, but that's not the point.
you tap the speaker button and lay down in your bed. “whatddya even need this time, connie?”
“i left some shit over there. some uh—”
“—you don’t even know—”
“—you gonna let me finish, pretty?” when you pick up the smile in his voice you also pick up the way your eye twitches. like him to not take shit serious. you and connie have been broken up forever, so how he manages to sneak his way back into your bed over and over again is still unanswered.
truth is the break up was bad, so everytime you see his face it still hurts you. you can’t help it. you’ve told him that too. told him to just leave you alone and let you have some time yourself. time to let you heal.
you don’t know why you’d ever expect connie to give a fuck about any of that.
“i don’t wanna keep doing this connie,” your lips tug down, “do you really need something?”
“yeah.” you hear a car honk in the background when he says it. that asshole was already on his way.
“ok well,” you sigh, “bye.”
“alright, see ya in a minute pretty.”
______________________________________________
he appears at your doorstep less than 15 minutes later. he’s not even in your house for 5 minutes when he’s trying to fuck you.
“fuck baby,” he’s got you laid out all pretty on the couch in nothing but a filmsy tank top and some tinny tiny sleep shorts. your little hands go to push him away when he comes back down to kiss on you but he doesn’t even budge, just grabs them with one of his hands and brings them down to his hard-on.
he pulls away from your lips with a sigh and marvels from the look on your face. eyes droopy and crossed, drool seeping from your kiss swollen lips—he thinks it’s about the prettiest sight he’s ever seen.
he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and smile. he loves that dumb fucked out look you get on your face. he likes how he gives that to you just from a few kisses.
“you good?”
“uh huh.” you breath in heavily and bring your hands up to his face, pouting slightly from the loss of contact.
his eyebrows raise in a teasing manner before he leans down and gives you one quick peck on the lips.
you’re muffling against his lips, trying to get away but also trying to get closer. grinding your hips into his and wrapping your arms firm around his head. your whining in his mouth, not sure if you guys should be doing this.
“shh, shh. i know baby. missed—missed you though.”
you don’t know how you always get yourself in these situations. no—you know exactly how. you’re still as crazy about connie as he is about you. and you hate to admit it. just the thought of that makes you want to cry. you do cry. he makes you feel like you’ll never get over him. you know that you won’t.
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“why do you do this to me?” your bottom half is still draped over him when you push up to look him in the eye. he ignores you, taking a hand a running it on the side of your face before grabbing the remote. you continue.
“you don’t even get it connie! ‘m trying to get over you!…and—and you just—”
he sees the tears before they even come out. can tell your about to cry from the way your eyes shine and how your bottom lip pokes right out and shakes.
“aw baby,” he places a gentle hand on the back of your head and leans your face into his chest, “why do you wanna get over me so bad? i’m trying to win you back, y’know—”
you sit up immediately at that. win you back? that asshole ruined your whole perspective on love. he’s the reason you look at yourself differently. he’s the reason you’re constantly comparing yourself to everyone of his little friends. the ones that you, ‘don’t need to worry about.’ it almost makes you laugh.
“y-you cheated on me! you fucking—”
just like that his whole tone changes.
“don’t piss me off (name), watch your mouth.”
your scoff at him and try to push yourself up off his chest but he keeps you still with his hands firm on your ass.
“i want you to get out connie,” you say it while placing your hands on his chest, fingers softly playing with his hoodie drawstrings.
he doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t even look at you when he gives you a bored, “no.”
you’re stunned, “what the fuck do you mean no! i said get out connie.”
he ignores you until you’re all in his face raising your voice at him. you’re trying to push yourself off his lap but he’s got a painful grip on your ass. he turns his head to you screaming at him and gives you one quick kiss on the cheek. “what’d i say about all that yelling, huh baby?”
he always does that shit. tries to play the sweet and gentle act with you, just to be a stupid asshole later.
there’s a beat of silence, “connie please get the fuck out—”
“—what do you want me out so fucking bad for? can you just fucking chill? i’m trying to watch a movie with you.” the nerve he has. it’s hard to just watch a movie with a guy who made you sick to your stomach for weeks. just with him getting here you feel yourself becoming violent.
“i have a boyfriend now.” your teeth grit when you spit it out trying to do anything to get him out, make him feel bad about himself. and all connie does is laugh. he doesn’t believe the lie anymore than you do.
“yeah? i’ll fucking kill him.” he looks you dead in the eye while he says it, before he moves his hand right to your pussy, shoving his fingers in your soaked panties to get a feel of his girl. he’s not joking. you know he’s not. it’s been more than a few times you’ve tried to peaceful move on from connie. let’s say that didn’t end well for you or the guys you were messing with. “your boyfriend know i’ve got you fucking dripping right now baby?”
you go to move his hand, “s-stop it, connie—”
“i know you miss me, alright?” he gives you. a big kiss on your forehead before making work to take your little shorts off. “quit fighting me.”
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of course it was gonna end like this, it always does. connie comes over, you play hard to get for a little before your grinding and kissing on each other, you yell at him, and then you fuck.
connie has you laid out on your back, pushing your knees to your ears and fucking you right. he can’t help but stare at your pretty face every time. cheeks lightly dusted a soft baby pink, pouty lips producing drool, and big teary eyes peering down at where you two meet.
you’re whining the whole time, you try to run from it a little bit. i mean with a fat cock like connie’s he doesn’t blame you. he knows you’re trying your best, such a tiny girl can only take so much.
in the end though connie’s not with the bullshit, you know he can try and play the nice guy act all he wants, he always reveals himself in the end.
“feels good, baby?” he’s still pounding in you keeping a good pace. with every thrust, it seems like your pussy’s talking back to him, letting out wet squirts and lewd squelches. connie thinks it can’t get better than this, no he knows.
why can’t she just fucking cooperate? connie thinks it to himself while looking down at your pretty face, zoned out and making all the pretty sounds in the world. it’s really fucking pointless to keep trying to deny him every time. you must think it cute but it pisses him off.
he pulls out suddenly and once you notice you immediately start to bitch n whine. he rolls his eyes.
your pussy’s leaking and it aches to be filled again. you cry and cry but connie shuts you up real fast, taking a heavy hand and slapping your poor cunt.
“ah— co-connie, hic, st-stop!” he puts a single finger in your pussy and finger fucks your while he talks for a minute, y’know just to keep you happy. he thinks you look so cute all compliant. tits all out, pussy dripping, nothing for you to say out that bratty mouth but an occasional hiccup and a moan.
“we’re getting back together, you understand? sick of you playing these dumb ass games, (name), i mean really,” he stops to get real close to your face. he pulls his finger out your cunt and plops it in his mouth, sucking and slurping on it lewdly, now he’s got your attention.
you start to object but he cuts you off and you can tell by his tone he wants this to make you sad. make you cry.
“you really think you can live without me, baby? find someone fucking better than me?” he lets out an annoyingly mocking laugh and gets all in your area, practically spitting on your face.
“you’re a stupid bitch y’know that?” here they come. “i mean really, who’s gonna put up with you like i can, you’re just another dumb bitch without me, and let’s be honest about that, (n,n).” yeah there they are. and once they start they don’t stop. you’re practically sobbing now, doing everything you can to get this asshole off of you.
connie likes that he has that control over you. it only takes a minimum of three sentences that can bring you down, he likes how only he has that control over you. he puts his dick back in and fucks you hard. he fucks you like there’s no tomorrow. hitting those impossibly deep spots inside, he keeps it up.
“who the fuck would you even try to find anyway,” he huffs a sigh and his face scrunches up even thinking of you with someone else. “i’ll fucking kill them, y ‘ know that?” he grabs your face with one hand and pulls you real close. still fucking into your pussy and expecting a full conversation.
you’re crying and crying and trying to bring your arms up to push him away. “g-g-get off—get o-off me!” he thinks it’s cute, you say it like you really mean it. you’re fucking pathetic, he wants you to know your fucking pathetic.
he giggles a bit at his thought, shoving the back of your head back into the sofa and keeping his hand laid there, a tight grip across your face.
“you’re such a fucking crybaby, (name).” yeah that’ll really get you started. you’re borderline wailing now, kicking your arms and your little feet. trying to get him the hell off you.
he loves it. every fucking second he loves it. loves your little wails, your crying eyes, all of it. your pretty lips that try to bite his fingers, any way to get him off of you. your clenching fist, flapping every which way just to hit him once. he loves it.
he thinks it makes your pussy better.
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marionluth · 3 days
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Harley: Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Shit!
Peter: Did you get that out of your system?
Harley: How can you be so calm right now?”
Peter: What do you expect me to do? We’re in handcuffs! We’re arrested. We can do nothing but wait!
Harley: Dude! You’re freaking Spi…
Peter: Shut up! Are you that unhinged? Nobody knows that, little idiot! And I plan to keep it that way, so shut up!
Harley: But you could…
Peter: No! No, I couldn’t! Because even if it wasn’t a secret, I wouldn’t freaking pull a prison break and become a delinquent to save your ass from Tony!
Harley: Ok, first, you are already a delinquent! You’re in fucking handcuffs, and second… Your ass is on the line too just as much as mine!
Peter: Stop talking, Harley! We wouldn’t be in this damn situation if you listened to me!
Harley: Yeah, well, we wouldn’t have driven that beauty in a street race if I had listened to you! Which, by the way, I don’t have to do! Like ever! I don’t listen to you! I answer to no one!
Peter: * snorting * Yeah, that’s why you’re scared shitless of Tony finding out.
Harley: Oh, fuck off! No matter how hard you try to play the good obedient son, you know just as well as I do that you freaking loved the ride! You wouldn’t even know how good you were in this, hadn’t I made you try. Who would’ve thought! Peter Parker, an illegal street racer. We might have to shave your head to give you some Dom Toretto vibes.
Cop: For the last time, who is your legal guardian or parent?
Peter: Officer, this would go so much faster if you just called my stepfather, who, as I’ve told you a bunch of times already, is Tony Stark
Cop: You expect me to believe that? Huh? Don’t you think this has happened before? Little piece of shits like you coming in here, giving me names to look up and then call and then snickering while whoever I bothered calling curses the everloving shit out of me?
Harley: Everloving shit! That was a good one. I’m gonna be using that, Mr. badge.
Peter: Harley, shut up! We get a phone call, don't we? Let us call Tony ourselves. Harley here has something to tell him!
Harley: Oh, hell no! I’m not talking to Tony about this! No way in hell! Not even if you beat the everloving shit out of me
*pleased smirk for being able to use his new favorite curse word so fast *
Peter: Harley… I’m unbelievably close to beating the everloving shit out of you as it is… So, you’ll shut up and we’ll follow the kind officer, and we’ll call Tony. And you’ll speak to him and tell him where we are and why and that he needs to come get us.
Peter : And even if you don’t and decide to start stalling until the kind officer loses his shit and terminates the call, then I’ll use my phone call. And I’ll let Tony know exactly what happened. There’s no way out of this!
Harley: Sure there is. You’re just not creative enough! That’s the problem with you science guys, you’re not creative enough. Me and Tony, we’re mechanics. We can come up with a million different ways out of any given situation.
Harley: And like you said… Since you’ll end up telling him yourself using your phone call, after I waste mine, why not make the call in the first place and save us all some frustration? How about not being a selfish asshole for once, Peter? For the everloving God?
Peter: Harley, I’ll ask permission from the kind officer to start smacking the shit out of you…
Harley: Nuh uh! The Everloving shit…
Excerpt from my fic: The fast (Peter Parker) The Careless (Harley Keener) and the Furious (Tony Damn Stark)
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grandestheart · 4 hours
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LET THIS HAPPEN grayson x lyra
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★ characters - grayson hawthorne, lyra kane
★ synopsis ~ When grayson spots lyra with her feet dangling in his pool, he goes to invite her to swim with him, when she reveals she cant swim, grayson takes it upon himself to teach her
★ taglist 🏷️ ~ @nqds @urbanflorals @sophiesonlinediary @lxvebelle @x-liv25-jamieswife // it will only let me tag five people at a time so thats why tags are split up <3
@shuhuaspookie @sunsetovertheocean @never-enough-novels @lanterns-and-daydreams @inmyheaddd lmk if you want to be added
★ request from @sophiesonlinediary
★ a/n ~ so excited to see what jlb has in the Hawthorne vault!!! I really hope it’s a Lyra chapter so we can begin to get a sense of her character, anyways enjoy <3 also this is like my longest fic ever!!
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the heated water swished around lyras feet, she had only found this pool when exploring the Hawthorne mansion, looking for clues that could give her a lead in the game. She couldn’t swim, but she did enjoy the water, something about the smooth ripples when she kicked her feet calmed her.
She had been sat for around five minutes when she heard quiet footsteps on the patio behind her, “hello?” A deep voice called out, she knew that voice, “who’s there?” Shit. The voice moved closer, she couldn’t move now. It was much too late, “uh- gamemaster,” she cleared her throat, “what a suprise to see you here.”
Grayson stepped into the turquoise light from the pool. He was wearing nothing but navy swim shorts, and his hair was messed up, as if a hand had been ran through it. “Ms Kane, what are you doing here it’s after hours?” Grayson tilted his head slightly, Lyras mouth formed an o shape, all contestants were to be in their rooms by 11pm and it was now around 12:30. “I- I just needed to clear my head, but I can leave if that’s what you want.” She began to lift herself out of the pool when Grayson stopped her. “No, it’s ok you can stay.” Grayson made his way over to the stairs of the pool, “I often come here to clear my head too.” Grayson slid into the pool, dunking his head under the warm water.
When he came back up his hair had been pushed out of his face, and water was dripping down his shirtless body. “Do you wish to join me for a swim Ms Kane?” Grayson asked, swimming up to where she was sat on the ledge, “oh- no, I couldn’t. I can’t swim, so I probably-“ she trailed off, “that’s fine,” Grayson lifted himself out of the pool and next to her, “I could teach you.” Lyra laughed, he couldn’t be serious right? “I’m serious. I’ve been swimming since I could walk. I’m sure I would be a sufficient teacher.”
“you’re that confident?” Lyra retailed, “I’m not even dressed for it.” Grayson shrugged, “what’s wrong with what your wearing now?” Lyra looked down at her red oversized jumper and black running shorts. “Are you being fucking serious? I’ll drown if I wear this.” Grayson slid back into the pool. “Not if I’m holding you.” Grayson offered his hand, Lyra took it. “If that’s what you say Hawthorne boy.”
Grayson and Lyra had been in the pool for hours now, it started with Grayson trying to teach Lyra the basics, but for the past forty five minutes they had just been sat on the edge of pool, talking about life. “Grayson?” Lyra asked, “yes?” “what are we doing?” Grayson didn’t respond, only pushed himself back into the water. He made direct eye contact with her before saying. “This.” And then he grabbed her legs and tugged her under the water. “GRAYSON!” Lyra screeched after she had scrambled her way to the surface, she turned around to see Graysons cocky face grinning, “you could’ve killed me, asshole.” Grayson wrapped his arms around her waist. “I wouldn’t of let that happen” they were close now, too close, his mouth was only centimetres above hers. “but maybe- i will let this happen.” And with that his soft lips kissed hers. When they finally pulled apart Grayson stared at her. “You are so beautiful Lyra.” Lyra he had used her first name. “Same goes for you Hawthorne boy.”
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aroaceofthesea · 1 month
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Hate it bc we used to have such a fun friend group and everything was great but then ppl started fighting with each other so now there's a lot of tension between some ppl and it makes me kinda sad to think about how it could have been if this all hadnt happened
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soldier-poet-king · 10 months
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Playing a drow in bg3 bc I love them and holy shit everyone is SO casually racist to my pc (even the tieflings!!! Another historically persecuted race!!! I expected it at least from the bitchy wood elf druid lady but the tieflings???)
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mattodore · 11 months
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me: hello everyone this is matthias he's my evil little guy and my number one enemy <3
person: oh so he's evil and bad
me: .……..now how could you say that abt him :(
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ruckis--rookie · 2 years
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I rember a time where everyone on my dash was going NUTS for Teruteru, I had NO idea what he was from and was like if he's from tumblr he MUST be great :D then I finally got around to watching a let's play of DGRP2, was like hey its the funny chef man from tumblr! And after like the first hour of being in the same area as him I was like wow! I. Do not like him.
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satoruxx · 2 months
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pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.2k words summary: boyfriend!toji again, fluff, soft!toji, grumpy x sunshine, that obligatory sick fic, bickering, affectionate scolding, pet names, this is very self-indulgent !! rheya's note: had this written for so long and never posted it oops !! but yeah resident grump worrying over his fav what's new?
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toji knows something is off as soon as he steps into his apartment. he comes to the conclusion almost immediately, because he isn’t greeted like he normally is when he comes home.
normally, he’ll push the door open and you’ll trip over yourself as you stand from the couch, a giddy smile on your face as you jump into his arms. and being the asshole that he is, toji never hesitates to grumble about it, clicking his tongue as he says things along the lines of “dammit kid one day i won’t catch you” or “jeez baby let me get in the house” or something similar. but despite all that his hands will still be attached to you, rubbing your back as he smothers an amused chuckle against your hair.
but not today. today he’s greeted by quiet and emptiness—a clear lack of you. he had opened the door ready to catch you in his arms, but all he can do is raise a brow at the silence. as much as he normally complains about it, this absence makes his gut churn. he pushes all that aside, more concerned than anything as he drops his jacket onto the couch and heads for the bedroom.
toji is nothing if not observant, paranoid as his eyes dart from corner to corner of the small apartment. it’s ingrained into him—this fear that his past will come back to haunt him and take you away in the most brutal way imaginable. but he tries to ignore that, continuing to head down the hall until he pushes the bedroom door open.
his shoulders drop in relief, seeing you laying on your stomach, face buried in the pillows, and he lets out a sigh. he sees you shift a little, signaling that you’re awake, so he takes a few steps forward.
toji climbs onto the bed and lays down next to you, dropping a heavy arm over your back. “what’s wrong?”
“don’t feel good,” you answer back. toji’s brows furrow, and he manages to push his free palm against your forehead. heat pulses against his skin, and his frown deepens.
“the fuck did you do to yourself?” he asks, not unkindly but still stern—you can only glare at him hazily.
“it’s not my fault!”
“uh huh,” toji rolls his eyes, threading his fingers through your sweaty hair and pushing it back from your forehead. “so me telling you to put some layers on when you go out in the cold has nothing to do with this?”
you huff, face heating under his pointed stare, and all you can do is shove his hand away, before pathetically burying your face into the sheets again. “shut up.”
“don’t be a brat.” toji lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head indulgently. “it’s your fault for not listening to me.”
“if you’re just gonna lecture me, go away,” you complain, cheek pressed into the pillow. toji snorts, though his hand rubs what you assume to be soothing circles on your back.
“who’s gonna make sure your dumbass doesn’t get into more trouble?”
another indignant huff, and toji only chuckles. “alright c’mon kid. let’s get you in better shape, yeah?” he grunts, looping his arm around your waist and tugging you up. you immediately protest, whining out a plethora of curses attached to his name, and he rolls his eyes. “okay, alright shut up.”
he maneuvers your body into sitting position, leaning you up against the pillows and pulling the blankets up with furrowed brows—meticulous in a way that he is only with very few things.
“you eat anything today?” he asks, still fussing over the blankets, and you gulp quietly. one look and toji’s frown grows deeper. “kid.” the word comes out stressed, like a scolding, and you wince.
“i didn’t feel like it,” you groan, trying not to wilt under his pointed glare.
“don’t care,” he huffs. “your body needs energy, stupid.”
“rude,” you mutter, crossing your arms and toji rolls his eyes.
“whine all you want—“ he stands up, rolling his neck until he hears a satisfying crack. “—still gonna make you eat something. soup okay?”
you don’t want to admit how tempting it sounds, so with an unrelenting amount of stubbornness you glare at him. “fine.”
his lips quirk upward into a smug little grin, and you try to refrain from throwing something at him. he pats your leg. “alright.”
he heads into the kitchen, leaving you to your thoughts. you hear the occasional sounds of cooking and utensils and before long, the comforting smell of soup wafts through the apartment. you try not to show toji how your mouth is watering when he walks back in, a bowl in his palm.
“here,” he grunts, propping a knee onto the bed that dips under his weight. “eat up, doll.”
you sigh, already hating the feeling of the cool sheets when you move even slightly to reach for it.
“you gonna make me spoon feed you?” toji’s brow quirks—smug, and obviously amused.
“i can do it myself thank you—” you try to take the bowl from him with a glare but he raises it out of your reach and clicks his tongue.
“will y’just let me do this one thing for you, jeez,” he complains, glaring down his nose at you.
you cross your arms with a huff, tone going slightly apologetic. “i feel bad—”
“why the fuck do you feel bad?” he asks sharply, eyes narrowed and confused and caught off guard like you’ve said the most out of pocket thing.
“because—” you stress, throwing your hands up miserably. “you were out on these crazy missions—probably tired as hell. and instead of relaxing you have to come home and take care of me because i was too stupid to look after myself.”
toji groans, putting the bowl on the bedside table before sitting on the bed completely. “kid,” he says emphatically, taking your face in his palms firmly. “how many times do i need to tell you this? i don’t mind lookin’ out for you.”
“yeah but—”
“no shut up,” he snaps, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. “you always worry about bothering me or inconveniencing me or some other crap like that. i’m telling you—don’t.”
his thumbs gently press into the apples of your cheeks, and your lips part under his pointed gaze.
“i like doin’ shit for you, okay? ‘n takin’ care of you when you’re sick? that’s nothing.” his lips tug into a lopsided smirk. “who else is gonna look out for you anyway?”
you purse your lips, throat going tight because toji rarely talks like this—so honestly open. and though you’re sure that many people out there would say he’s harsh and mean and not good for you, it’s things like this that prove how wrong they are.
“what’s wrong? did i break your brain?” toji asks, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your head, and you huff out a laugh, pushing his arm away.
“shut up,” you mutter, falling into his chest heavily. he chuckles, low and throaty as he pats your back.
“you up for eating now?” you can feel him reaching for the bowl, and you smile against him, pressing your face further into his warmth because toji will always be nothing but safe for you.
“in a minute,” you answer, looping your arms around his waist. he sighs, shaking his head but he doesn’t say anything else.
but you think you can feel him smile against your hair as he drops a chaste kiss to your forehead—you don’t tell him that though.
5K notes · View notes
nanaslutt · 7 months
Note
okey so brainrot: this is RLLY WEIRD IM SORRY but the reader is like innocent/shy and doesn't really have any experiences regarding sex so like one day she asks satoru to "show her" how to touch herself but he demonstrates it on a fruit (like on an orange? peach? or smth like that) then things get heated😉. I DONT KNOW IF I EXPLAINED THIS WELL
Gojo teaching you to touch yourself on an orange.. and things escalate..
contains: fem reader, teasing, sexual tension, fingering, guided masturbation, experienced gojo, readers first orgasm, he talks you through it, 99% of this is dirty talk and nasty dialogue
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
*Ding* the sound of a video recording starting chimed from Gojo’ phone, “Okay okay, say that again for me?~” The white haired man cooed cockily.
“Gojo you asshole! Ugh, forget it, I was stupid to ask you.” You threw your arms up in defeat, rolling your eyes as you turned to walk out of his room, embarrassed.
“Noooonono,” he cried, the chime sounded again, ending the video, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t tease you like that~” The man was suddenly behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and rocking you side to side, “Forgive me, I was wrong okayy~” he tried to reason, he really didn’t want to blow this.
After all, his cute little friend had just burst into his room and confessed that she had never touched herself before and was wanting some guidance; knowing gojo had some experience with women under his belt, you came to him for help.
“To make it up to you, I won’t even make you pay for this session how bout that?” he grinned behind you annoyingly, poking his head out to the side of you so you could see his expression through your peripheral vision.
“What are you some sex therapist?” you laughed, making him sigh in relief. “I’ll be anything you need me to be~” he wiggled his eyebrows, making you shrug his heavy body off of you in faux disgust.
“So, you a visual learner? or more hands on?” He asked when you turned your body to face him once more, letting him drag you so you were sitting on the end of his bed.
“I’m not uh.. really sure when it comes to this.” you confessed. “You’re not sure of much huh?” he teased, making you punch his shoulder lightly, “haha, you’ll know soon if you’re a hands on learner or not.” he said ambiguously.
But you trusted gojo with this for some reason..
..which might’ve been a mistake.
You did not anticipate how riled up this situation would get you. You’ve always found gojo attractive; who didn’t; but you came to him because nothing had ever happened between the two of you before, you were friends, you were sure the atmosphere wouldn’t feel so embarrassing but—
“This is your clit, you wanna make little circles on it like this with one or two fingers,” The white haired man spoke, currently holding half an orange in one hand, and rubbing tight circles onto the suggestive looking slit of the fruit with the other.
Gojo was sat in front of you on his chair while you sat on the bed, his legs spread as he held the fruit out in front of him and instructed you on it.
“Don’t wanna go too fast either, wanna work yourself up a bit.” He spoke, looking up at you every so often to make sure you were paying attention; this was important after all.
“If you start getting too needy, rub your fingers down here-“ he dragged his long digits down to the middle of the fruit, presumably where the opening to your pussy would be.
He rubbed his fingers on the outside of the slit, in a ‘come hither’ motion; not inserting his fingers; just caressing them on the outside, occasionally rubbing them back and forth over the opening.
“You paying attention?” he checked, snapping you out of your stupor as your eyes flitted up to his, you were hoping the blush on your face wasn’t as evident as it felt. You just gave a curt nod at his question, not trusting your voice to sound steady right now.
The longer and longer this went on, the needier and needier you we’re feeling between your own legs, a heat was growing between them and you were praying gojo hadn’t noticed that your legs were crossed not in comfort but because you had been steadily squeezing them together and rubbing your pussy against the rough denim stitch your jeans made for awhile now.
“Good, it gets a little more interesting now so make sure you’re paying attention.” he says, waiting for you nod again before he continued.
“This is your vaginal opening, this is where you would put your little fingers inside yourself when you masturbate.” he said, “or get fucked heh,” he adds vulgarly, making himself smile.
“Start with one finger, especially since you’ve never done anything here before right?” He asks, still nonchalantly rubbing his fingers against the slit while he waits for you to once again acknowledge his words; his piercing blue eyes staring bullets through you as he does so.
“Y-yeah.” You verbally answered, silently begging for him to continue. If you tried hard enough, you could almost feel him touching you like that instead of the stupid fruit, who you were unnecessarily jealous of at the moment.
“It’s gonna be tight, and it might not feel like much at first-“ You held your breath as he spoke, waiting for his next moves. Gojo looked down at the fruit, teasing a circle around the slit one last time before he pressed the tip of his finger into the center deeper and deeper, making juices spill out around it. “But a couple inches inside, there’s gonna be a little rough patch.” he tells you.
“A rough patch?” you repeat, confused. “Your g-spot.” he answered, “It’s gonna make you feel soo good.” he smirks, looking up at you from his ministrations on the fruit. “All you gotta do is ruuub~ like this-“ he demonstrates, massaging upwards inside the slit of the fruit, making vulgar squelching noises emanate around the room.
“It’ll even sound similar if you’re doing it right,” he adds, giggling to himself. “Can you do both?” you ask, hoping the breathlessness of your words wasn’t able to be picked up by Gojo’s ears.
He tilts his head to the side for a second, questioning what you mean before his eyes light up when he fully registers what you were asking, “Ohhh~ You want me to show you how to touch your clit and finger yourself at the same time?” he asked, a slightly mocking lilt to his voice.
“Oh I just- I wanted to know if it was possible..” you shyly clarified, looking away for a second, suddenly way too aware of his eyes on you.
“Aww~ of course it’s possible!” he beamed. You watched his thumb come up and pet the top of the slit of the orange, where your clit would be, and rubbed back and forth when his fingers thrusted out of the slit. “You can use two hands if this is too uncomfortable,” He adds.
“Most women cant cum unless you give ur little clit some attention, even with how good touching yourself inside can feel.” Gojo spoke.
“Have you ever-“ you gulped, “made someone cum from just the inside?” you asked, taking the brief pause he took to answer to add, “I-I just wanna know if it’s p-possible is all!”
“Oh yeah~” he answers in a heartbeat after your last sentence, “Even made a couple squirt from just the inside too.” he brags.
“Shit,” you accidentally mumble, not meaning to actually say that our loud, “What was that?” he asks, playing dumb when he mentally recorded the word that fell from your lips, making his ego swell.
“Oh n-nothing.” you brushed it off, waving your hand in front of yourself, urging him to continue his teachings. “Make sure when your fingers are inside that pump them in-“ he slowly drags his fingers out of the fruit, juices coating them, making you squeeze your legs together at the lewd image, “and out, that you also curl them inside at the same time.” he instructs.
“That’s how you’re gonna make your g-spot happy and get the most of your pleasure.” Gojo finishes.
Your mouth was completely dry at this point, leg bouncing in impatience, still subtly squeezing your thighs together for even the smallest bit of relief while you watched the juices drip down his lengthy fingers.
“Well that’s about it for the basics, I think you can go pretty far with what i’ve taught you, if you can remember it all.” He giggles, raising from the chair and moving to set the fruit on the table.
“Wait!” you say a little too loudly, hopping he didn’t sense the need in your voice, “Um.. I think I might be a hands on learner..” You confess, “I’m still a little confused..”
Gojo stops in his tracks, retracting his hand that’s holding the fruit back towards his body as a sinister smirk grows on his face. “Yeah?” he asks, cheering internally when you not coyly.
“Alright then, class is back in session!!” he throws his hands up, walking over to you.
When you think he’s going to sit back down in the chair he actually walks past it, and past you. You turn your head to see where he was going but your muscles freeze and tense up when you feel the bed dip behind you, followed by his strong chest pressing snugly against your back.
“This okay?” he asks before he continues, to which you nod. “Need to hear you say it, sweets.” You blush at the nickname, glad he can’t see your face like this, “Yes, this is okay.” you confirm softly.
“Alright, here” he holds the fruit out to you, and you take it in both your smaller hands. “I’m gonna walk you through it, that sound okay?” he checks, smiling to himself when you let out a meek ‘mhm.’
He pulls the both of you further back on the bed, so he’s resting comfortably upright against the bed frame, and you following suit against his chest. “Comfortable?” the while haired man whispers far too close to your ear.
“Y-yes,” you confirm once more, the hitch of your breath made him smile to himself.
“Okayy~ Ideally you would want to work yourself up by playing with your chest first,, slowly drag your fingers down your body, touch yourself over your pants and all that— but we only have an orange so this will have to do!” he says, not realizing (?) how hot his words were making you.
“Start by slowly touching your clit.” He spoke, as if you were really touching yourself right now. Your shaky fingers came down to find the top of the slit, rubbing one finger against where you guessed your clit would be, as he watched intently over your shoulder.
“Yeah, right there good job.” he praised, making you wish you were back to sitting on the bed with your legs crossed so you could squeeze them together. It would be a little too risky to try anything when he was so close to you, you bet he could hear your heartbeat beating out of your chest from how the two of you were squished together right now.
“A little faster now.” he instructed, licking his lips behind you as he felt your breath pick up when you drew faster circles against the fruit, wet ‘schlick’ noises echoing in your ears.
“Like this?” you asked, switching up the direction of the circles every so often, “Oh yeah, you’re a pro,” he giggled into your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine, “You sure you’ve never touched yourself before?”
“Well I have but it.. it didn’t feel like much.” you confessed, blushing at your own revealing words. “I see..” he ponders, cerulean eyes focused on your smaller fingers playing with the fruit.
“I have an idea, something that might help you understand a little better, if your open to it,” he pauses you, his big hand coming to stop your movements against the orange.
“Um, what is it?” you ask hesitantly. The white haired man leaned a little too close for comfort, making you whine out loud when he whispered, “You trust me?” into the shell of your ear.
Truthfully, Gojo had been hard from the moment you asked him to teach you how to touch yourself. Stealing glances at your thighs pressing together not so subtly when he was talking you through step by step how to pleasure yourself, watching you suck your lip into your mouth when his words became a little too dirty, how your breath picked up when he inserted his fingers into the slit of the fruit.
He was losing his mind, his patience was wearing increasingly thinner and thinner at your reactions, he knew exactly what he was doing to you, and your obliviousness was making his cock drip pre steadily into his boxers.
Thank god for his baggy sweater or you might’ve (100% would’ve) noticed the huge hard on he was sporting in his sweats. He was surprised you didn’t say anything when he was pressed against your back, assuming you were too enthralled and overwhelmed with what was going on to notice.
“I trust you.” you responded honestly, making his cock twitch against the fabric that confined it.
“I’m gonna touch this fruit just how I just showed you, and you’re going to mimic me, on yourself.” He whispered, his hot breath against the shell of your ear making you shiver.
“R-right here? now?” you asked clarifying his words, slight panic and embarrassment seeping into your tone. “I saw you rubbing your thighs together, you’re aching for it, right? What better time to practice getting off when you’re actually all worked up?” He made a good point, you’ve been wanting to touch yourself for half an hour now, you were sure you had completely soaked through your panties by this point.
You made a sound of embarrassment, eyes darting around the room at him having exposed you, “Awww heh, don’t be embarrassed, I’m in the same boat.” he confessed, trying to comfort you, “Been so hard since you asked me for help.”
His words did little to comfort you, making you even more flustered as you covered your eyes with the hand you weren’t holding the orange in, “Okay- just.. just do something, please.” you begged, not being able to take the throbbing between your own legs anymore.
“Okay okay, all you gotta do is follow my lead, kay?” he clarifies, grabbing your wrist and pulling off of your face so he could see your expression from the side. When he heard you let out a meek ‘okay’ he reached for the orange and set it down on the bed for a moment.
“Go ahead and take off your pants for me,, leave your panties on.” Came Gojo’s first instructions. You followed, leaning forward and away from his chest, your fingers worked quickly at undoing your button and zipper, sliding your fingers underneath the waistband as you pulled the garment off your body, revealing your soft-looking skin to Gojos eyes.
When you leaned back against him he dragged the tips of his fingers along your thighs, his assumption of your soft skin becoming true as he dragged his digits all the way up to your hips, gripping your waist for a moment before he complimented, “So fucking soft.”
“Spread your legs pretty,” His soothing voice told you, staring intently between your legs, wishing he had a better view, but after this little scene he had high hopes he would have no problem getting a closer look at you.
You did as you were told, you parted your knees, feet propped up on the bed as you waited with bated breath for his next instruction, feeling yourself throb behind the drenched fabric.
He reached for the fruit again, holding it with both hands in front of you, as he started tapping with one long finger on the ‘clit’ of the orange. When you didn’t move your own finger to repeat him he pats your pelvis lightly with his hand, “I know i’m addicting to watch, but you gotta touch yourself too.” He laughs, making you snap out of your stupor as you forgot you were supposed to be mimicking him.
“S-sorry, do it again.” you request, really focusing on his fingers against the fruit this time while you started sliding your own fingers inside your panties.
“Uh-uh” he warned, his voice alone stopping your hand in its tracks, “Over your panties, I’ll tell you when to touch yourself directly, I’ll take care of everything.” He explains, leaving a small peck against the side of your head.
“Alright, just pay attention that’s all you gotta do.” Gojo starts up again, tapping his fingers on the fruit and this time you follow him, tapping your finger over your wet panties, right against your clit.
The little stimulation alone was so intense, after being worked up for so long this relief was much needed. “Feels good to touch yourself after being so horny huh?” He spoke, like he was reading your mind.
‘Mhm’ you respond, letting your body relax against him, your head coming back to lay against his chest as you let yourself feel what he was allowing you to.
“I bet it does..” Gojo smirks, looking at your lithe shaky fingers tapping softly against your clothed mound. After a couple of seconds he decided to press against the fruit, starting up the small circles, “lightly.” He reminded.
You followed suit, the circles felt worlds better than the tapping, the consistent pressure and pattern was making you dizzy. The first actual whimper of the night left your lips and it made Gojo’s cock twitch in his pants.
He cooed at you when you squeezed your eyes shut, mouth dropping open in a small o shape while you continued your ministrations, “Cant follow directions with your eyes shut can you? Or you got some kinda super power I’m unaware of~?” he joked, making you crack your eyes open and look at his fingers again.
You noticed he had picked up his pace, you were unsure of when he did but you were happy you noticed now. You were appreciative at getting to touch yourself but were growing needy with the slow pace of his fingers. “F-fuck.” You gasped out, your hips bucking into your finger as you quickened the movement.
“Talk to me, how’s it feel.” Gojo was growing impatient himself, he loved teasing you and he knew he should take this slow especially since it was your fist time touching yourself properly— but the thought of pressing your back down into a mean arch while he just pulled your panties aside and fucked his cock into you at the hilt was constantly in the back of his mind.
He loved teasing his sex partners, but he’s never done anything like this before. Taking it this slow and instructing someone like this was new to him. It was so intimate, and so soft, and his dick really fucking liked it.
“F-feels so good, I- I wanna take my panties off.” you confessed, your ass bumping against his hard on every time your hips humped against your finger. “Yeah? Wanna touch your wet pussy directly?” He spoke, biting his lip as he held back a groan.
“Yes-yes- please..” You begged, the way he was talking was making your need to have something inside you— to feel more—so much worse.
“Soon, I promise.” He said, rubbing his long fingers against the slid of the fruit, making quiet squelching noises as he ran his finger up and down the length of it. He smiled to himself when you listened quicker this time, you were catching on.
You rubbed two fingers over the length of your pussy, moaning when he stopped his movements and pressed on and off against the hole of the fruit, where the opening of your pussy would be.
You repeated the action, feeling the fabric of your wet panties get pushed against the entrance of your little hole, “I cant tell if those sounds are you, or the fruit.” Gojo laughed breathlessly, becoming dizzy at the squelching that became louder and louder in his ears.
“Gojo..” you wined needily into the air. “Okay, okay,” His resolve cracked much faster than it normally would’ve. He knew he was the one in control right now but it felt like you had him on a leash, controlling his every move. Just a couple of wines from you was enough to make him fold, giving in to what you wanted.
He grinned watching you hastily remove your panties and spreading your legs once more, being so obedient by not immediately touching yourself and instead digging your nails into your thighs and waiting for his fingers to move against the orange.
He wanted to see how long you could hold out, but his dick and head alike were yelling at him to move his own fingers so he could watch you touch yourself, so that’s exactly what he did. Using two long fingers he rubbed hard circles again the fruit, his giggles shaking your body when you jumped into action with no hesitation, rubbing and pinching your clit between your fingers as you slid them back and forth, spelling letters and drawing shapes on it— whatever gojo did, you did.
“Fuck Gojo, this feels so good-“ you moaned, fighting the urge to let your head fall back as you felt an unfamiliar coil tighten itself in your tummy.
“I know baby I know.” His voice spoke with need, taking all four of his fingers and smacking them against the entire fruit, just so you would repeat him so he could hear how wet you were. “Oh shiit, you’re fucking drenched.” He groaned, his eyes briefly rolling back into his head before he started rubbing little circles again.
“This turning you on? huh?” He spoke, “You like when I show you how to treat your little pussy?” His words made you moan, going off of his instruction and quickening the pace of your fingers against yourself, “I know you wanna cum but you gotta slow down, I didn’t speed up my fingers so you don’t get to either~” Gojo reminded.
Being the obedient girl you were, you slowed your fingers down, “Sorry, ‘m sorry,” you apologized profusely, “It’s alright,” He smiled, “It just feels so good huh?” Again, it was like he was reading your mind.
“So good, s-so so good.” you whine. “Let’s make you feel ever better, huh?” Gojo spoke against your ear, his breathy laugh tickling your skin. He dragged his fingers down to the slit of the fruit, just teasing the entrance, watching your fingers do the same.
“I cant go as deep on my model here, but when I put them inside, I want you to go deep okay?” He said. “Okay, okay.” You rush, anxious but excited to have something inside of you.
“Good girl, such a good listener.” He praised, making your cunt clench around nothing. “Okay, here we go~” Gojo slowly pushed a single finger into the fruit, his jaw dropping with a smile when he watched your smaller finger insert itself into your walls.
“Yeahhh, how does that feel?” He asks, his cock dripping out more pre into his boxers, throbbing and twitching against its confines. “Fuck.. ‘s tight.” you whine, making him groan into the air.
“Yeah? Can you feel yourself twitching?” Gojo is trying to pull as many details out of you as he can, his cock was aching for it. “Y-yes, so much- ngh-“ you choke on a moan when you start to slide your finger it in and out, following Gojo’s lead.
“Remember to curl your finger twords the top of your tummy when you put it inside,” He instructs, watching your body jolt when you follow his instruction. “Oh fu-“ you cut yourself off with a breathless moan when you feel it— your gspot.
You’ve never felt anything like this before, it almost felt more intense than touching your clit, but drastically different, you didn’t know what part was your favorite— you were becoming enthralled with your own body.
“Fuck it- it feels so good Gojo-“ you whine, turning your head against his chest so you’re making eye contact with him. “I know baby I knoww~” He cooes down at you, shaking his head.
“Put another finger when you can take it, it’ll feel so much better.” he reveals, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth while he waited with bated breath as you pulled out your finger, covered in your juices— which made him grown— before you reinserted it, this time with your ring finger joining in tandem.
“Ohmygod-“ you cry, “It’s s-so much tighter gojo-“ you looked back down at his fingers, mimicking his increasingly rough pace as he looses his mind a bit at your use of his last name.
“Satoru baby, call me satoru.” He desperately needed to hear you say his name properly, every cell in his body was aching for it. “Sa-toru! Toru fuck!” you whine. His eyes roll back, his head falling suit and bumping against the headboard at his name leaving your lips.
“Yeah, keep saying my name sweet thing,” he groaned, not able to stop himself from humping against your lower back any longer, the air around you becoming increasingly thicker at how aroused the two of you were becoming.
Suddenly something snapped inside Gojo and he discarded the orange on the floor, wrapping one strong arm around your torso while he brought his juice soaked fingers to your lips, tapping them for you to open up for him.
“Yesss, good fucking girl, don’t stop your fingers- fuckkk-“ The white haired man groaned when your tongue eagerly licked around his fingers, he groaned at the warmth of your mouth, pushing his fingers as far as you would let him into your mouth, coughing a bit around them when they tickled the back of your throat.
“Play with your clit too sweetie, wanna see you cum all over your fingers.” He directed, keeping his fingers snug in your mouth as you moaned and whined around them, his other hand gripping the side of your waist strong enough to leave bruises as your other hand joined the mix on your pussy, rubbing quick circles with perfect pressure right against your clit.
“Fuck, you feel it? You gonna cum?” He groaned when your body jerked more frequently, breath coming in shorter pants as well, a sign of your impending orgasm.
You nodded against him, moaning around his fingers as you quickened your thrusts, the squelching emanating louder in the room as your juices started pooling around your fingers.
“Yesyesyes, take it, keep rubbing your clit just like that, fuck-“ Gojo felt like he was about to cum himself, lightheaded and entranced at the scene in front of him— watching you please yourself so eagerly. He couldn’t believe he was about to witness your first ever orgasm, something he only ever dreamed about.
You tried to speak his name around his fingers, warning him you were about to cum but it came out muffled. He removed his fingers from your mouth, grabbing your jaw with the same hand, and smearing your spit messily against your skin— he directed your head to look between your legs.
“Watch yourself cum baby, want you to take it all in, remember how fucking good this feels.” He instructed, as you whined and moaned his name freely into the room.
“Toru- I- I think i’m cumming!! fuck-“ you cried, squeezing your eyes shut as the dam broke.
“Oh yesyesyes- there you fucking go~ good fucking girl~” He talked you through it as you came all over your fingers— cum gushing out around them as your cunt pulsed around your digits, body jerking in on itself after every wave of your high, your legs and hands shaking at the intensity.
You panted as you came down from your first ever orgasm, barely registering that Gojo was praising you as your mind felt fuzzy, you were feeling complete bliss, you couldn’t believe it took you so long to finally do this— you were addicted.
“Satoru- ngh-“ you whined in sensitivity as you slowly pulled out your fingers, holding your soaked digits up into the air and blushing at how they shined in the light with how wet they were.
Gojo reached for your wrist, shamelessly bringing your hand to his mouth as he sucked your fingers into his mouth, moaning and eyes rolling back at the taste. Your face blushed increasingly darker at his antics, clenching your thighs at how his soft tongue felt cleaning off your fingers.
After he popped them out of his mouth a dopey grin made itself home on his face, “So fucking sweet too.” he praised, licking his lips to clean up any drop of your juices he might’ve missed.
Gojo squeezed his arm around you tighter, gripping your face once more as he made you turn your head more directly towards him before he spoke again, “Wanna learn how to touch a dick next?”
pt. 2 here
7K notes · View notes
cherry-leclerc · 6 months
Text
can’t you see ☆ mv1
genre: redbull!driver, enemies to lovers, smut, lando and danny playing cupid lol, protective!max (although he won’t admit it), mean!max, sub!max, dom!reader
word count: 3.2k
In between your mutual dislike with your teammate, Lando and Daniel try their best to make you and Max uncover some hidden feelings.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+...penetrative sex, riding, sucking on fingers
req!...quick one, but ahh first maxie drabble. eekk :)
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“What a fucking asshole.”
Daniel’s eyes bulge out as he hands you a cup of coffee. It had been an extremely long day. Perhaps not the best idea to keep it going, but it seemed like the FIA didn’t give a shit about that. You were past being upset. You were seething. 
“Uh…Yeah. I mean I get it. I’m tired, too. This red flag came at the worst time-”
Briskly, you take the cup from him, cutting him off. “It’s not the red flag, it’s Max.” Ever since you joined Formula 1 as the first female to drive for Red Bull, you had felt welcomed by everyone. Everyone but your actual teammate. You had thought maybe it was because he had small balls and couldn’t handle the fact that you were driving alongside him, but when you confronted him about it, he only growled. 
As if you would ever cross my fucking mind.
Squinting, you point accusingly at the Australian. “You ought to stop being his friend.” He loudly laughs as he throws his head back. 
“You say that every time.”
Making a face, you shoot back. “And you never choose!”
“You’re both my friends. No one is winning custody.” 
“You’re older than both of us combined.”
“Hey!”
Hey, a low voice replies. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A shiver runs down your spine. Max leans up against the nearest wall as he ignores you and keeps his eyes on his friend. You wave your hand up in front of him a couple of times for good measure before your mouth drops open when he acts as if you were Casper the Friendly Ghost. 
“We were just talking abou- Ouch!” Daniel shrieks in pain when you pinch him. Faking a smile, you turn to the Dutchman. We were actually in the middle of something here. Nothing. He just keeps looking past you. Running a hand through his hair, he starts talking about how this all ‘ruined my flow’ and how he was going to have to ‘try to fix the FIA’s mistakes’. You have to laugh.
“Is something funny to you?”
You look around the room as you theatrically shudder. Sipping on the hot beverage, you hum and close your eyes. Max clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he crosses his arms in frustration. Cold weather, Danny. Do you think there’s a place nearby that sells homemade chicken soup?
“What the fuck is your problem?”
“If we find one, then maybe we can invite Lando and-” Suddenly, he reaches out for your cup and hot drops hit your hand. You hiss in pain. “What’s your problem, dickhead?”
Now, a normal reaction would be to be a decent human being and apologize. Offer up their own cup of coffee, perhaps. Not Max. Throwing it into the nearest trash bin, he turns to you. And he actually has the audacity to look upset.
“Why didn’t you let me overtake you? I don’t know if you don’t know this because you’re new or something like that, but here, when we are instructed to do something - we do it.”
Narrowing your eyes, you step closer. “So what? I don’t let you by one time and suddenly I’m the bad guy? Let me remind you that that’s all I’ve done for you this season.”
“Maybe when you’re someone’s number one driver then you won’t have to do shit like this, but until then,” he angles himself lower to you, “...It kinda looks like you have to.”
“Oh. No.” Daniel winces as he sips quietly on his hot drink. He can physically see your wheels turning as you glare back at the Dutchman. Your cheeks have turned light pink as you refrain yourself from yelling in front of all the Alpha Tauri engineers. Max scrunches his nose.
“Cute.”
You’re about to explode and let all hell loose, but just then, the red flag is over. Huffing, you grab your helmet as you walk away without sparing a single goodbye. Daniel frowns. “You need to stop treating her like that.” Max scoffs. Treating her how? The Australian inches closer as he lays a large hand on his friend's shoulder. “Like you don’t care.”
As soon as the race picks back up, you’re in the zone. You have to work twice as hard to overtake anyone in your way, considering most drivers were on new tires, but eventually you worked your way through. Drops of rain hit your visor as you slow down in sector 2. 
“Should I be worried about the rain?”
“Nothing to be worried about, just keep it up.”
You nod, even though Christian can’t see you. As you get closer, you can see Max’s rear wing. He’s fast - zooming, almost - but that only made you want it even more. Defend. I repeat, defend for a 1-2 finish. “Yeah. No.” Entering the DRS zone, you press down on the throttle as you try all tactics to catch up with the 3x World Champion. Fat drops of water hit the Red Bull as you squint in order to not get lost with the commotion. What are you doing? Defend. “I am defending.” You press harder. “Except I’m defending my spot. Not his.”
It’s almost as if he knows what you’re about to do. Quickly, he scans his sideview mirror as he curses when he sees  that you weren’t slowing down. It looks like the two Red Bulls are going head-to-head! Probably not the best idea at the moment considering the tough weather, Crofty announces. Passing Max by, you can’t help but cheer as you try to imagine his reaction. 
“Not what we were picturing, but very well executed. He will be defending now.”
It wasn’t planned to get stung by a boiling hot coffee, of course it wasn’t, despite the bickering between you two. It wasn’t planned to take time to scratch your burnt hand. And it most definitely was not planned to crash.
Plunging into the wall, you groan, curses flowing past your lips. Are you okay? “Yes. I’m okay.” Lifting your visor, you shyly wave at the grandstands. Would you mind going over to check on Max? He’s currently not responding. Your heart stops. Jumping off your seat, you climb out of your car as you turn and sure enough, Max’s Red Bull is ruined. 
“Are you alright?”
Throwing a thumbs up, he lifts himself out of his car to wave at the fans. He turns to you, dark blue helmet still over his head. “What the fuck was that all about?” You narrow your eyes.
“What do you mean? I got an itch.” And though he wears his helmet, you can’t help but notice the crinkles by his eyes. Your stomach flips. It's because of the crash. That’s all it is. You clear your throat. “What happened to you? You were driving well.” Professionally, he slides his gloves off as he waves over at the safety car.
“I had to check on you one way or another, right?”
Dumbfounded, you're faced with his back as he walks away.
-
“He’s into you, can’t you see it!”
“No. Jesus, don’t even say that.” Lando raises his brows as he throws his legs on top of your bed. Daniel hums from underneath the covers. He’s right, though. Pulling the sheets off, you scowl. “Don’t give me reasons to kick you both out.” Throwing yourself onto the mattress, you smile widely. “Soooo, what’s new?”
It’s all you three are ever good for. Pure gossip. Chewing hard on a piece of pizza, you gag. Daniel cackles as he reaches for the last slice. Hey! What if I wanted that? He cocks his head. Fine, you mumble.
“All I wanted was a warm soup.”
A gentle knock echoes through the room as you all turn to face it. Go and open it, Daniel hisses. Wha- No! You go open it, Lando whispers back. Bunch of babies, you murmur as you untangle yourself from your blanket. Swinging the door open, you freeze. Standing tall is Max with a paper bag at  hand.
“Hey.”
Peeking out into the hallway, you stare back confused. “Hey?”
Almost timidly, he kicks his feet up against the wall with a small smile. He extends his arm out, signaling for you to take the mysterious bag. I don’t want any problems, you choke out, feeling skeptical. His blue eyes grow wide.
“Oh. No, don’t worry!” He opens the bag and takes out a small container. Leaning forward, you feel blood rising up to your cheeks. “It’s just soup.”
After an awkward exchange, he leaves. Inhaling the delicious scent, you let out a dreamy sigh.
“He so likes her.”
-
“We might have been wrong.”
Lando tilts his head, curly strands bouncing at the motion. Daniel hurriedly takes a seat next to the Brit as he smacks his large hands on the table. “What do you mean, mate?”
Daniel scans the room quickly before shaking his head. “I mean, that I just heard them two. They were going at it.” Lando blushes as he lets out an awkward laugh. I don’t even want to know. The Australian bites back a smile as he continues. “Not like that. Yet. What I mean is that they’re back to square one. He’s being a complete dick.”
“Alright. Looks like we have to knock some sense into him.”
-
Go, Daniel mouths once Max enters the debrief room, eyes entertained on his phone screen. Pushing past the Dutch, Charles jogs over to where you sit next to George. “Hey!” Greeting him back with a warm smile, you pat to the open seat. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite after this. Maybe some chicken soup?” You beam.
“I love a good soup!”
Rapidly, Max’s ears perk up as he hears your conversation with the Monegasque. He was well over the rivalry, but with this? He would not second guess bringing it back. He clenches his jaw as he notices you nodding along with Charles. Strolling over to the small group, he shoots a bitter grin.
“Did you see Christian’s message about our last minute meeting?”
“Hello to you, too.” Checking your phone, you look back confused with a pout. “No. I haven't received anything.”
“Yeah, well, there’s one-”
“No, there's not.” Flickering your eyes behind your teammate, you’re even more lost. With hands on his hips, Christian taps his shoe as his eyes flicker between his two Red Bull drivers. “Don’t mind him, sweetheart. There’s no meeting.” He sends a small wink at Charles before walking off to the rest of the team principles. Max slumps.
“Ha. Guess it got canceled or something like that…”
Rushing over Lando and Daniel, Charles hunches over as he starts blabbering. “Did it work? Please tell me it worked - God - I think I almost shit myself. Tell me it fucking wo-”
The Brit points discreetly to where Max paces the room, orbs trained on you like a guard dog.
“It’s definitely working.”
He smacks a one hundred dollar bill onto a large hand. 
“And thank you for the help, too, Mr. Horner.”
-
Despite the attempts to get you and Max together, nothing seemed to work. The blue eyed boy would appear to start registering his feelings, and at the last minute, would completely chicken out. It would be an outright lie to say that this didn’t entertain the Alpha Tauri and McLaren boys, but they also knew that they had to continue their fairy godparent duties.
“Watch it!”
Crashing onto the couch inside of the Red Bull Hospitality, Max’s face bounces against it. He groans in pain before throwing a harsh stare at his friends. Lando stiffles a giggle as Daniel raises his arms up in defense. Getting seated, the Dutch looks back with a sour expression. 
“What’s this hostile situation about?”
Lando panics as he turns to his mate. The Aussie licks his lips, patting his lap. “Look, we’ve noticed a few things-” What things? He huffs. “Maybe if you would just let me finish-” That’s what she said! He glares at Lando who slaps a hand over his mouth, tears from unreleased laughter painting his blue eyes. “As I was saying…We’ve noticed your behavior towards a special little someone…”
“Towards Heidi? Shit. I didn’t think it’d be that noticeable.”
Lando clicks his fingers rapidly before pointing at the Red Bull driver. “He’s trying to not talk about it because he knows where this is going!” No, I’m not, Max shrieks as his voice cracks. Blushing, he pushes his hat lower to his face.
“You like her!”
“You know I like Heidi! She’s good for you-”
“You know that’s not who we’re talking about.”
It’s silent for a while. Standing up, Daniel goes to sit next to the 26 year old. Running a hand over his face, Max’s sighs as he looks up. “I’m not…used to feeling this way, okay?” 
“That’s totally fine, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat her like a piece of gum stuck at the bottom of your shoe. She’s amazing. Could have anyone - and I mean anyone - but she likes you. I don’t know why or how, but she likes you.” Daniel scoots away when Max narrows his eyes.
“She doesn’t like me.”
Jumping over the coffee table, Lando plops down. “Yes! She does. Ask me how I know.” A bored expression slashes Max’s face as he asks anyway. How, Lando? How do you know? “Because she’s always fighting with you.”
Daniel clicks his tongue as he slowly squints his brown eyes. “I don’t think you’re making the point you think you’re making, mate.” The Brit waves him off.
“I’m dead serious. When she gets upset, she always walks away because she claims to not want to waste her time on stupid arguments. But with you,” he pushes his index finger against the Red Bull polo, “With you she never - ever - walks away. Sure, you’re both at each others throats, but that only means one thing.” He leans against the sofa as he takes a sip of the open energy drink. 
“She doesn’t mind wasting time on you.”
-
After some more convincing, the duo had managed to raise the 26 year olds confidence. They could be wrong. Embarrassingly wrong, but how would he ever know if he never tried? Taking in a deep breath, he finds himself knocking on your door.
“More soup?”
Sheepishly, he shakes his head. His heart skips a beat as he notices how laid back you seem. How relaxed you were. He was going to ruin all that. He was going to say something that would change everything and things might never be the sa-
“Wanna come in?”
Handing him a plate of cut up watermelon, you take a seat in front of him, legs tucked beneath your butt. What are you doing out so late at night, Mr. Max Verstappen? He sets the plate down as he forces himself to mold into his chair. 
“I’ve never hated you.”
You blink. Clearing his throat, he looks down to his lap as he fiddles his fingers. “I know I’ve been such a bad teammate - I know - but I promise that it never had to do with you.”
“Okay. So…then what did it have to do with?”
He lets out a croaky laugh as he shuts his eyes. “That’s the tough part…” Opening his blue eyes, he finds you staring back, waiting for an answer. “I feel the opposite of hate…towards you.” He hates the way your face doesn’t change and you remain still. He hates when you shrink back and chew on your lip.
But he could never find himself hating the moment you climb onto his lap.
“T-that’s not what I came here for-”
“I know.” You slide your hands against his stubble. “Your confession was…adorable. Had trouble saying those words out loud, right? Because you,” you strum your finger against his chest, “...You don’t have feelings. You don’t have a heart.”
Now he’s frowning as he tries to unravel your words. A giggle bubbles up your throat, eyes crinkling shut. His breath hitches. “I feel things…” Your heart twirls with the way his voice sounds. Sure you do, Maxie- 
Grabbing your face with his left hand, he kisses you. It’s hot, feverish, and impatient.
It’s him.
Whimpering, you grind against him as he groans underneath you. Forcing himself to pull away from your warm lips, he cocks his head to the side. “Was that enough proof?”
“I might need more.”
It’s such a moment of pure adrenaline, that you can’t even pinpoint the moment your hatred towards him had turned into lust. All you know is that it felt so good to be riding him. Squeezing your hips, he lifts you up as he lets out a strained moan. The sound itself makes you drip even more. 
You had always loved his voice. How croaky it was. But you never imagined that it would turn your entire world upside down to hear him moaning your name like a prayer. Oh, fuck. Holy shit. Pushing his hands down, he opens his eyes as he looks back, weak and concerned. He worries you might have suddenly regretted all of this. That you would walk away and never want to talk to him ever again. But he’s already kissed you. He’s already been inside of you. 
He would beg you to stay in order to make you keep it that way.
“B-baby.” He whimpers with the way you dig yourself against him before circling your hips. Slow. “It’s okay if you want to stop-” You slide his fingers into your mouth. He swears he could finish with such a pretty sight.
“I don’t want to. I just want you to say sorry for everything you’ve ever done to me.”
“I already said I never meant any of it! You’re absolutely everything to me.”
Your core grows tighter with his affirmations. Holding onto his broad shoulders, you continue your sinister rhythm. “Maybe. But I still want one.”
“I’m so-”
Rubbing your bare tits against his chest, he shudders as he harshly pinches your thigh. Try again. “I said I’m so-” Pulling all the way out, you slide back down onto his cock. “Oh - don’t fucking do that.”
“Try again.”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry.”
A satisfied smile slides onto your plump lips as you nod before kissing him and riding him the way you know he deserves. With one last hop, you both finish as he moans into your neck. Your fingers push his sweaty, blondish strands away before pressing your lips against his cheek. He smiles weakly.
“I like you, too.” You look down before returning your attention. “But I can’t be with you.”
“Wh-”
“Max. Let’s be realistic here. I’m a girl in Formula 1. You don’t know how hard I’ve worked to get here. I’ve had to do twice the work simply because I’m not a man.” You roll your eyes. “People are going to hate me. Call me names - God, I can already hear them.”
He never thought his heart could actually hurt for someone. You were really messing him up. He gingerly rubs small circles against your cheek.
“I’ll ruin whoever says anything bad about you, but please give this a chance. I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I do you. Please.”
And yes, there will be nasty comments. Hateful interpretations about your relationship. But that never really mattered as long as you had him. 
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hamsterclaw · 22 days
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You end up being responsible for Jeon Jungkook, who's impulsive, annoying and in the habit of breaking the law. Unfortunately for you, he's also funny and sexy as fuck. There's no way this can end well, can it?
Pairing: Jungkook x f!reader
Genre: Crack, smut, rookie lawyer reader and criminal JK
Rating: 18+
Word count: 11k
Warnings: Sex, swearing, criminal activity, smoking
Present day
‘Who,’ breathes Gracie, your new client, ‘the fuck is that?’
You look in the direction she’s facing, and die inside, as the black custom Skyline glides to a smooth stop on the road, in front of you.
‘Uh, so I’ll call when I hear back about the patents,’ you say hurriedly, before….
Too late. 
The passenger door opens, and you hear Gracie gasp audibly as she sees the man in the driver’s seat.
His wavy dark hair almost covers his eyes. He rakes his tattooed hand through his hair casually, his silver piercings gleaming in the light from the streetlamps above you.
You get in before he can say anything, shutting the door firmly behind you. 
‘Just drive,’ you say, through gritted teeth.
‘Seatbelt,’ he reminds you, but he’s already pulling away from the curb.
You buckle up and stare out the window so you don’t have to look at his ridiculously pretty face.
‘Nice skirt,’ he says.
‘Don’t talk to me,’ you snap.
‘Fine,’ he says, just to annoy you.
He flicks the music on, and the interior of the car fills with the pulsing synth of the early 90s house that he’s been into lately.
He’s a good driver, you’ll give him that.
By the time he pulls into the underground car park of your building, your head is pounding from the loud music he’s played the entire journey home.
You know from experience that if you complain he’ll just turn it up louder.
‘Did you get into anything when I was with my client?’ you ask, because you have to.
The lying asshole has the audacity to give you an innocent look. It’s surprisingly effective, he was born with the wide eyes and pouty lips required to pull it off.
You remind yourself again that Jeon Jungkook is not to be trusted.
You raise an eyebrow, and wait.
Finally, he says, ‘Nothing.’
You harden your stare.
‘Nothing,’ he insists. 
He kills the engine and you both exit the car and head for the lifts.
He lives in the apartment next to yours, and the only reason a rich asshole like him is in your building is because his rich parents have paid for him to stay next to you, as his appointed guardian.
It’s an unconventional arrangement which he’d only agreed to because the alternative was jail time. 
You’d only agreed to it because his mother is your boss at the law firm you work at, and it’s not just that you need the job, but you’re also one step away from becoming an associate.
Jungkook holds the lift door open with a booted foot.
‘After you,’ he says.
‘The doors are automatic, you don’t have to hold them open,’ you point out.
You know he knows this.
Anyone who’s ever been in a lift knows it.
Jungkook admires himself in the lift mirrors. You look away, but not before he catches you looking at him.
‘Like what you see?’ he asks, voice velvety.
‘No,’ you say flatly, turning away.
He snickers softly but says nothing else.
You reach your floor and sigh with relief. 
Finally. 
It’s been a long day, and you can’t wait to go home and recharge in the solitude of your apartment.
You can already feel yourself sinking into the plushness of your new sofa after a hot shower. It’s Thursday, too, so there’s a new episode of your favourite drama being released today, and there’s leftovers in the fridge….
Jeon Jungkook’s annoying voice interrupts your daydream.
‘I have to go out again tonight,’ he tells you.
One stipulation his parents made to your unusual arrangement is that you have to accompany him whenever he leaves the apartment after dark.
‘Why?’ you ask, letting your irritation show in your tone.
‘I said I’d meet some guys,’ he says. He holds his hands up as you glare at him. ‘It’s for business.’
You’ve reached your door. You think longingly of your sofa and your drama, and stifle a sigh.
‘I just need a shower and to eat before we go,’ you say, resigned.
‘Fine. I’ll knock in an hour, ok?’ he says.
You don’t bother to respond.
By the time he knocks at your door, you’re out of your work clothes and in sweats and a hoodie.
At his surprised look you raise your eyebrows at him. 
‘Am I underdressed for your business meeting?’ you ask, like you care.
He rolls his eyes. ‘I just thought you only wore business pantsuits,’ he replies, smiling sweetly at you.
Your stomach growls. You’d spent too long in the shower and hadn’t had a chance to eat. It’d been worth it.
You ignore it and lock your apartment door.
‘I’m ready.’
Jungkook whistles the tune from a newish pop song as you head for the lifts.
He’s annoyingly melodic, and now the infectious tune’s in your head.
You focus on not humming along as you follow him to his car and get in the passenger seat.
‘Seatbelt,’ he says, and you roll your eyes.
‘Yes, mum.’ 
‘You look and act like you’re 14,’ Jungkook retorts, navigating out the car park.
‘Where are we going?’ you ask, looking out the window, ignoring his comment.
‘Verve,’ he replies, casual.
You sit up. ‘What?’
Verve is the newest, hottest restaurant in town. It opened a month ago, and it’s still impossible to get a table.
‘I can’t go there dressed like this!’
Jungkook shrugs. ‘No one asked you to get into your PJs.’
You’re livid. ‘You should have told me.’
Jungkook shrugs again. ‘You didn’t ask specifically.’
You have to sit on your hands to stop yourself from punching his smug, pretty face. You catch sight of yourself in the rearview mirror and whip the towelling headband you use when you wash your face off your head.
You seethe silently in the passenger seat until Jungkook turns to you. 
‘Stop breathing so angrily.’
‘I’m sorry my essential functions are expressing unacceptable emotions to you,’ you gripe. 
‘That’s not normal breathing,’ Jungkook argues.
There’s a few beats of silence, then Jungkook prods your side. 
‘Don’t hold your breath either.’
You suck in an irritated breath and try to moderate your tone. ‘In the future I’d appreciate some notice if we’re going anywhere with a dress code,’ you tell Jungkook.
‘Fine,’ Jungkook agrees. ‘I like short skirts, if I may express a preference.’
‘You. May. Not.’ You say, clipped.
He just laughs to himself as he reverses effortlessly into a slot on the street outside the restaurant.
‘These guys,’ he starts, then breaks off. ‘Are you wearing a bra?’
You cross your arms across your chest defensively. ‘Shut up.’
‘Your tits look great,’ Jungkook says. 
‘Shut up!’
Jungkook opens the door to Verve, and you wait nervously next to him.
You can feel eyes on you, as soft and snuggly as your hoodie and sweats are, they make you stand out in all the wrong ways in this place full of people in discreet labels.
You shuffle self-consciously as the host arrives and gives you a none-too-subtle once-over.
He opens his mouth, and Jungkook says, ‘We have a reservation at eight, Frederic said he’d block out the terrace for us.’
The whole demeanour of the host changes at Jungkook’s words. 
‘Of course. You must be Mr Jeon.’ 
You find yourself being ushered through the restaurant and up a back staircase to a huge terrace with heat lamps, a glass ceiling and Koi pond in the centre of the terrace. 
‘What the fuck,’ you mutter. 
Jungkook gives you his greasiest smile, and you glower at him in response.
The two men he’s here to meet are dressed like mafia consiglieres, and they, like the host, look at you doubtfully as you approach with Jungkook.
‘My lawyer,’ Jungkook says, not bothering to introduce you by name or with any accuracy.
You’re a lawyer, but not his lawyer, and you’re glad for it because you have no obligation to keep any of his assholery confidential.
The mafia guys eye you with renewed respect, and you keep quiet.
‘Before we start, can we order? My lawyer here skipped dinner,’ Jungkook says.
You’re so surprised at his thoughtful gesture you stare at him. 
He ignores you, already looking through the tablet one of the men has handed him. 
***
The buzzing of your phone is insistent and pervasive, pulling you further and further out of the warm cocoon of the best sleep you’ve had in a while.
You’re floating on clouds, weightless and boneless and warm and in the distance you can see an angel, smiling at you. He’s got dark hair, a physique sculpted by Italian masters, and a tattoo sleeve…
What the fuck!
You bolt upright and your phone falls off your pillow, clattering onto the floor.
You pick it up and accidentally answer, only to be greeted by the grinning ass face of one Jeon Jungkook.
It’s a video call, which means…. 
He can see you!
With a horrified yelp you toss the phone onto your bed.
‘I’ve already seen everything,’ he assures you, muffled on account of your phone being face down in your sheets. ‘Now you’re awake, can I come over?’
‘What do you want, Jeon Jungkook?’ you snap, pulling your covers up to your neck.
‘I want your opinion on something,’ he says.
‘What’s the magic word?’ you ask. 
‘I’ll tell my mum you’re associate material….’
‘Please, don’t act like I don’t deserve that position off my own back,’ you reply, bored. 
‘I’ll let you watch me work out shirtless at the gym,’ he offers.
‘Like you’re going to be able to resist posting a gym selfie later,’ you scoff. 
‘Please,’ he says. 
You sigh. ‘Fine. Give me five minutes to brush my teeth.’
‘Don’t feel you need to put anything on, over that silky pink thing you’re wearing,’ Jungkook tells you.
You hang up without taking the bait.
When he knocks at your door, you give him an assessing look. 
‘Does helping you involve anything illegal?’ you ask.
‘I have a date. You’re a woman,’ Jungkook says, adding ‘almost’ under his breath. 
You scowl at him. ‘Go on, keep insulting me, that’ll make me want to help you more.’
He holds out a mug. ‘I made you coffee.’
You look suspiciously at it. ‘Did you roofie this?’
Jungkook scoffs. ‘Please why wouldn’t I want you to remember the best sexual experience you’ll ever have.’
‘Get out of my apartment.’
‘No, please,’ he pleads, holding up his hands in surrender. ‘I need your advice on which set to wear.’
You realise he’s also holding a garment bag.
‘Fine,’ you say, waving a hand.
You sip your coffee. It’s surprisingly good, but you nearly choke on it when Jungkook slips his shirt over his head and starts unbuttoning his jeans.
‘Wait!’ you shriek. ‘What are you doing?’
He looks down at his beautiful naked torso, feigning confusion. You know he’s faking because of the smug smirk on his face.
‘I need to try them on so you know what they look like on me,’ he says, innocent.
‘There are two bedrooms in this apartment,’ you say, stern. ‘Use one of them to change. Do not come out until you are fully dressed.’
Jungkook pouts but still flexes a little as he struts past you. You pretend not to notice how his back muscles taper into his slender waist.
As he gets changed, you consider what you might want for breakfast. It’s Saturday, so the brunch place down the corner opens earlier. 
Shit! Saturday?
Jungkook mistakes the expression on your face as a reaction to his outfit rather than your own internal screaming.
‘Shit. I knew it. Too much?’ he asks, turning around so you can see how the rips running up the backs of his legs in the jeans he’s wearing go all the way up to the edges of his boxer briefs.
‘No, you look like a sexy whore,’ you say absently, scrolling your calendar.
You look up to see him frowning at you.
‘And yet, you’re not looking,’ he complains.
‘I have a date tonight too,’ you tell him.
He looks so surprised you toss a throw cushion at him.
‘Are you lying because you don’t want me to think you’re a sad workaholic who’s been chronically single since university?’ he asks, with such accuracy you throw another throw cushion at him.
You wonder if that’s why they’re called throw cushions.
‘It’s a blind date,’ you say. ‘My friend Hyunjin set it up. Also I don’t give a shit what you think, at least he’s not an ex-con.’
Jungkook looks hurt. ‘I’m not an ex-con either,’ he points out.
Which reminds you of your arrangement.
‘We can’t both go on dates tonight,’ you say. ‘I’ll cancel.’
‘What, so you can blame me for being single forever? No way. I’ll take care of it. Where’s your date?’
Jungkook pulls his phone out of the pocket of his almost jeans.
You tell him the name of the restaurant.
‘I’ll have my date there too,’ Jungkook decides. He flashes you a smarmy grin that makes you throw your last cushion at him.
He’s already heading out the door. ‘Pick you up later and we can go together,’ he says.
Your door closes behind him, then opens again almost immediately. 
‘By the way,’ he says, holding up a pair of your silk panties. ‘I’m borrowing these.’
You fumble for something else to throw at him but he’s already closed the door again.
His infuriating laughter echoes in your ears long after he’s gone.
***
Jungkook’s taunts sound in your head as you get ready for your date.
You gaze in the mirror at your reflection critically.
Is your dress too short? Are your shoulders weird looking? And what the hell is happening with your hair?
You remind yourself that you can’t go another year of being single at your family’s annual get-together. You can already hear your  Auntie Rina’s probing questions, your cousin Binna’s smug comments, your brother Jin’s increasingly acidic barbs to anyone who tries to criticise you.
Besides, it’d be nice to meet someone who’d care if you were sick or who’d come over to chase away a spider if it took up residence in your bathtub. 
You purse your lips for a coat of lip tint and put the wand back just in time before the familiar, side-of-fist banging on your door starts.
At least he’s consistent, you think ruefully to yourself as you yell, ‘Coming, keep all your clothes on!’ 
You pull on your coat and belt it snugly as you slip your shoes on.
You nearly get Jeon Jungkook’s fist in your face as you yank open the door.
You duck at the same time he startles and says ‘Shit, sorry!’
‘It’s fine,’ you say, hoisting your bag on your shoulder.
You turn to go and realise he’s still standing by your door, staring at you.
You’re conscious of your heels and bare legs and that you’re wearing more makeup than usual. 
‘Spare me whatever is about to come out of your mouth,’ you say, spiky.
You’re honestly one rude comment away from going back into your apartment and your cosy couch. You still haven’t caught up on your drama.
You head for the lifts without looking to see if he’s following.
***
Jungkook holds the door open for you at the restaurant your blind date picked.
‘Do you have a reservation?’ asks the hostess. 
You give her your date’s name and she beams at you. ‘Right over here, follow me.’
She leads you to a table where a man is already sitting waiting.
He stands as you approach, and holds his hand out.  ‘Jang Junwoo,’ he says.
You introduce yourself and notice he’s looking awkwardly over your shoulder.
You realise Jungkook’s still standing behind you. 
‘Can I get you something, Jungkook?’ you ask, teeth gritted.
‘Nope,’ he says, cheerfully. ‘I’m just waiting for you to move so I can take my seat.’
You realise with horror that he’s indicating the table right next to yours in this cosy restaurant.
‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ you say. 
Jungkook winks at you. ‘I hear the steak’s good.’
***
Jang Junwoo is kind of pretentious, you think, but then again a lot of these finance bros are. He spent a minute more than necessary pontificating over the wine’s bouquet, but he’s been polite enough to the waitress, and he has asked you a few questions about yourself.
Looks wise, he’s kind of your type, you think. He’s clean cut, tall and with a lean physique set off by his well-fitted shirt. He’s not got any visible tattoos or piercings, which is fine with you.
You’re not into that at all.
Beside you, Jungkook’s date, a petite bottle blonde in a low-cut dress with the best natural-looking cleavage you’ve seen laughs at one of his jokes.
She’s been laughing a lot, which is funny, because Jungkook’s really not that funny at all.
You realise Junwoo’s asked you a question.
‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise. ‘I missed what you said.’
‘He asked if you like to work out,’ Jungkook supplies helpfully from beside you, barely two feet away. 
He leans forward, and in a stage whisper, tells Junwoo, ‘I’ve never seen her in our gym.’
‘Stop eavesdropping on my date,’ you hiss. 
Jungkook continues, ‘But she looks good in athleisure.’
He smiles like he’s just helped you, and you turn pointedly away. 
‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise again to Junwoo. ‘I’m his court appointed guardian. It was this arrangement or prison, wasn’t it, Jungkook?’
Instead of looking put off, Jungkook’s date looks even more intrigued.
Junwoo, bemused, says, ‘Don’t worry about it. Should we get dessert?’
You split up with Jungkook after dinner when Junwoo suggests a nightcap at a bar nearby.
Jungkook assures you he’ll go straight home. 
Looking at the way he and his date are draped over each other, you don’t doubt it. Thankfully, your apartment building was built pre-war and the walls are decent quality.
Junwoo ushers you into the bar, and, alone together with him for the first time all night, you feel your self-consciousness return. 
You catch him looking at your thigh where your skirt’s ridden up and when he sees you’ve noticed, he smiles smoothly like it’s no big deal.
He orders another bottle of wine and you let him drink most of it because your tolerance is low.
His tendency towards pretentiousness is more pronounced when he’s tipsy, and it’s when he’s telling you about how you should try to experience genuine Lyonnaise cuisine that you decide you’ve had enough for now.
‘I should go,’ you say, smiling at him. ‘Thank you for a lovely evening.’
‘I’ll escort you home,’ he says. ‘It’s late.’
He pulls on his coat and offers his arm, and you take it because you’re three blocks away from home and you can walk it in under ten minutes.
When you reach your door, you turn and hold out your hand. 
‘Thanks again, Junwoo, it was really kind of you to walk me home.’
He takes your hand and shakes, but doesn’t let go.
‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’ he asks.
‘Not tonight,’ you say firmly, trying to pull your hand away. 
‘I paid for dinner, and drinks,’ he points out, like that’s going to convince you.
‘You insisted,’ you counter. ‘Anyway, good night.’
He’s about to say something else but you don’t hear it because the lift dings and the doors slide open, and Jungkook steps out. 
His shirt is half undone, and there’s a big-ass hickey on his neck, but you’ve never been so glad to see him. 
‘Ah Jungkook,’ you say. ‘Did you have a good night?’
Jungkook pauses in front of you and Junwoo, eyeing the way your hands are still entwined.
‘Yeah, I did. How about you?’ he asks. 
‘We’re doing great, bro,’ Junwoo says.
‘Yeah?’ Jungkook asks, eyes on you. 
You swallow your pride. ‘Not great, JK.’
‘Yeah,’ Jungkook agrees. He makes eye contact with Junwoo. ‘You should get going, bro.’
Junwoo’s hand tightens around yours. ‘Yeah, bro?’
Jungkook shrugs. ‘You know why she’s my court appointed guardian? I’m not going back to Cheonan.’
At the mention of the notorious maximum security prison, Junwoo’s eyebrows rise. 
He squeezes your hand again, hard, then lets you go.
Jungkook stares at him the whole way as he leaves.
As soon as the lift doors close behind Junwoo, you sigh and slump against your door. 
‘Thanks, Jungkook.’
‘No worries,’ Jungkook says. He runs a hand through his dishevelled hair. ‘Guess my date went better than yours, huh?’
‘I shouldn’t have let that asshole pay. I knew he’d take it as an invitation,’ you say, ruefully. 
Jungkook looks at you. ‘Is that what he said? What an asshole. Jangmi told me not to expect anything.’
You look pointedly at the hickey on his neck, and he laughs but doesn’t say anything else.
You fish your keys out of your bag. ‘Anyway, thanks. Your timing was pretty good.’
‘Yeah I waited in the car outside for you and saw you guys arrive,’ Jungkook says.
You stare at him. ‘What?’
‘Wanted to make sure you got home ok,’ Jungkook says, yawning.
He’s already heading to his own apartment.
‘Hey,’ you call. ‘I didn’t know you were in Cheonan.’
Jungkook laughs. ‘Youth detention centre, not the prison. Spent four months there when I was 14.’
He’s reached his own door. 
‘Good night, Y/N. You looked really pretty tonight.’
He smiles at you crookedly and goes inside.
***
Six months earlier
You have no idea why you’ve been summoned to Jeon Mido’s office, and waiting outside in her secretary’s workspace isn’t helping your nerves.
You’ve been working for Albion for two years, and in that time you’ve never met her. 
Why would you?
She’s one of the founding partners of Albion, the biggest law firm in the city, and you’re a relative newbie hired straight out of law school two years ago. 
You’ve never had cause to venture beyond the tenth floor of this Albion-owned building, and now you’re in the penthouse.
The doors open, and Jeon Mido steps out.
‘Ms L/N,’ she says. ‘Please, come in.’
You take a seat in front of her sleek modern desk and wait.
‘Park Sejun tells me you worked extremely hard on your last case,’ she says, gazing at you. There’s a shrewdness in her eyes that reminds you that she built this law firm from nothing, despite her soft demeanour.
‘Thank you,’ you say.
‘You did an excellent job.’
You thank her again, wondering where she’s going with this. Is she about to dismiss you? Surely Park Sejun could have done that for her.
You haven’t done anything to warrant a promotion.
‘I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here,’ Jeon Mido says. 
She sets her hands on her desk gracefully. 
‘I heard what you said about the defendant on your last case. He has a record, he’s been in and out of trouble since he was a teenager. Our client was the plaintiff and you did enough to ensure the win but you didn’t go for the jugular like some of your colleagues would have.’
You get a sinking feeling. Is this why you’re being fired? Because you didn’t completely annihilate your opponent?
She seems to be waiting for a response, so you compose your thoughts.
‘I knew we had enough to win,’ you say carefully. ‘I didn’t want to waste my efforts completely destroying the defendant’s credibility when his only mistake was that he relied on his staff instead of verifying things for himself.’
‘That’s not what you said, though,’ she prompts.
You think frantically but can’t remember anything you said that would have stood out, particularly. 
You sigh. If you’re going to get fired, you might as well come clean.
‘My brother Jin got in trouble when we were teenagers,’ you say. ‘He got mixed up with a gang and he was too naive to get out before the gang leader got busted.’
You’ll spare her the details. ‘Anyway, he’s got a criminal record now, and because of it he can’t get a ‘respectable’ job. He couldn’t be a lawyer like me and he’d be a hell of a lot better, if I’m being honest.’
You shrug. ‘He made a mistake but he’s still the best person I know. I guess the defendant reminded me of him.’
Jeon Mido’s looking closely at you, but hasn’t said anything. 
‘Thank you for hiring me,’ you say. ‘If you want my resignation —-‘
‘You’re mistaken,’ Jeon Mido says, finally. ‘I don’t want to dismiss you. I wanted to ask for your help.’
Which was how you ended up in a coffee shop with Jeon Mido, waiting nervously to meet her son.
Jeon Jungkook.
She’d filled you in on the details. He was her younger son, and he’d been in and out of trouble with the law since his teenage years for various things. Fighting, stealing cars, and even, hilariously, once for posing as a valet at a high society event and parking all the cars at the foot of Mount Samo for the illegal drag racers to take their pick. 
After his most recent infraction she and her husband had sat down with Jungkook and given him an ultimatum to clean up his act or be cut off from his family’s fortune. 
You were to be an additional factor to tip the scales in his favour. 
Her proposition that you be Jungkook’s unofficial guardian and try to keep him out of trouble had sounded ludicrous at first, you were barely responsible enough to look after yourself. You certainly weren’t responsible enough to become a glorified babysitter to a grown man with a history of getting his own way. 
The only reason you hadn’t disagreed to this insane-sounding plan outright was that Jeon Mido had built the very building you worked in, from the ground up, off her own intelligence, strength and force of will, at a time when successful self-made women in South Korea were virtually unheard of. 
Additionally, Jungkook had agreed to meet you so he must be somewhat willing to comply with his parents’ ultimatum. 
You’d been expecting a degree of charm and good looks in her son, Jeon Mido was an attractive woman, but you still had to stop yourself from staring when Jeon Jungkook arrived.
Tall, broad-shouldered and built like an athlete, he’d smiled at you and offered his hand, and you’d shook it praying your own weren’t clammy with nervousness.
He was so good looking he made you want to throw up.
If this was what a life of crime made Jeon Jungkook look like, it certainly suited him.
He flicked his tongue out over his lip ring, dark eyes on you, and you wondered what that tongue would feel like on your skin.
Fuck. 
Fuck.
You were fucked from the moment you saw him, and it was only much later that you realised how bad the damage was.
It’d started off innocently enough. He’d moved into the apartment next to yours.
You’d hung out together a bit to get to know each other, and that first week had been fine.
Then he’d said, casually, one evening, that he was popping out for a cigarette, and he’d be back in fifteen minutes.
It was three frantic days before you found him, in some seedy pool hall, drunk and blazed with a new tattoo and the keys to a Maserati he didn’t own in his front jeans pocket.
He’d made you fish the keys out yourself, and he’d giggled like a schoolgirl the entire time.
After that, you’d been more insistent about sticking to the stipulations his parents had laid out, and had accompanied him everytime he left the apartment after dark.
You’d realised what a mistake that was when he offered to buy you brunch and paid all in unmarked bills out of a duffel bag filled with stacks of cash. 
Jeon Jungkook didn’t confine his criminal activity to night times.
Fuck that shit.
Then there was that time he’d offered to pick you up from work in a new car you’d assumed was his parents’. The penny had only dropped when the police sirens had sounded behind you and you’d asked, nervously, if he should pull over.
Jungkook had taken one look in the rearview mirror, and said, dismissively, ‘It’s only one patrol car. I can lose them, easily.’
He’d proceeded to do just that in a high-speed car chase in a stolen car that spanned the busiest road in the city.
It’s the first and only time you’ve been on the seven o’clock news. 
On the plus, you’d found out that he really was as good a driver as he’d claimed. 
You’d gone to see Jeon Mido in her office as soon as your legs stopped feeling like jelly, ready to apologise and say you weren’t able to do the job you’d agreed to do.
To your surprise, she’d just encouraged you to carry on.
For his part, Jungkook’s always treated you with an irreverent kind of tolerance. He’s annoying as hell and you’ve learned not to trust most of what he says, but for all his sexual innuendo around you, he’s never once crossed the line you’d drawn in the sand at the beginning. 
He’s danced along it a few times, though.
By the time you’re six months into your year-long arrangement, you’ve reached an uneasy stalemate with Jungkook. 
Sometimes, you almost like the guy. 
Annoyingly, he’s also stayed as hot as the day you met him.
***
Present day
You haven’t seen Jungkook in a few days, so you text him to check on him.
You’re already trying to remember how to get to the strip club you found him in the last time he went missing when he texts back. 
Jungkook: I’m dying
He’s fucked with you enough times that you’re not all that concerned yet.
Y/N: Yeah? How?
Jungkook: The plague
You consider this as you plate your lunch. You lift a forkful of greens to your lips, then hesitate, and sigh.
Five minutes later you’re knocking at his door. 
He answers so quickly you wonder if he was waiting on the other side of it.
He does look like hell, to be fair. 
His nose and eyes are red, and he looks pale under his golden tan. He’s wrapped up in a duvet from chin to feet. 
‘I’m dying,’ he tells you, melodramatic as fuck.
‘Do you have a cold.’
‘It’s way worse than a cold,’ he insists.
You shake your head, but he does look worse than you’ve ever seen him.
You sigh. ‘When did you last eat?’
Jungkook’s already looking at you so hopefully you haven’t the heart to say anything as you turn back around and let him into your apartment.
‘Try not to infect me,’ you tell him, as you lay a place setting in front of him at your kitchen island.
Jungkook replies, ‘I got my regular tests done last week, all negative.’
You look at him in disgust. ‘With your cold, asshole.’
He leers at you, but it lacks his usual panache.
You serve out the food and sit down opposite him to eat.
‘I always use condoms, anyway,’ he says, after a moment. He winks at you, but it’s still half-hearted. 
You pass him a glass of water.
‘Drop the sex pest act for a few minutes,’ you advise him, helpfully. ‘No one’s fucking anyone in the state you’re in, anyway.’ 
He looks at you, and you can almost see him clicking through the repertoire of innuendoes he has in his head.
Finally, he says, ‘Thanks for this. It’s delicious.’
You tilt your head, pretending to be confused. 
‘Did you just say something without sexual connotations, Jeon Jungkook?’
His smile is crooked.
‘Don’t worry, I’m still thinking sexual things about you in my head,’ he assures you.
You laugh. ‘Shut up and eat.’
***
Jungkook starts to look a bit less like death warmed over after he’s eaten, but the clingy asshole’s parked himself on your sofa and shows no sign of moving.
You shrug and put on the TV. At least if he’s with you, there’s less chance of him being in that strip club where there’s no parking outside. What a ballache that had been.
You put on the latest episode of your drama and he perks up. 
‘I haven’t seen this episode yet,’ he tells you. 
His duvet’s slipped lower, and you’ve yet to see anything but his skin.
‘Please tell me you’re dressed under there,’ you say, warningly. 
‘Yeah but I can take it all off,’ Jungkook offers.
You don’t dignify that with a response, just pass him some flu meds and a bottle of kombucha and settle in to watch the show.
After the episode ends he still shows no sign of moving, so you put on a movie and pass him some snacks.
By the time the movie ends it’s dark, and when he asks you what you want for dinner you let him order takeout for both of you.
You eat sitting alongside each other on the couch as the next movie plays.
After a while you realise he’s fallen asleep, and that this is the most male company you’ve had in a while, and that you don’t hate it.
You don’t hate him.
In fact, in the dim light from the TV and with his mouth closed and his hair rumpled over his relaxed sleeping face, he looks….. 
Tempting.
Like the boyfriend you could have if you could ever get over yourself enough to date someone seriously.
For some reason that makes you feel a little sad.
That you’re so starved for male company you’re longing after your neighbour who’s only hanging out with you because you’ve made an arrangement with his parents. 
If you’re being honest with yourself, he’d probably have never shown an interest in you otherwise.
You pull the duvet over his shoulder, switch off the TV and top up his water and meds before heading to bed.
***
The banging on your door startles you and your elbow jostles the glass on the edge of your kitchen counter. It drops to the floor and shatters, and you think dryly that it’s a metaphor for how close you are to the edge of killing Jeon fucking Jungkook.
You yank open the door with a scowl.
‘Yes, Jeon Jungkook?’ 
He looks a little edgy himself. ‘I want to show you something.’
‘Is it your dick?’ you ask, tiredly, letting him in.
‘Always, but it’s something different today.’
You glance at the clock. It’s six in the evening. 
‘Watch out,’ you say, as he passes the kitchen. ‘I dropped a glass.’
He doesn’t even blink. 
There’s a nervous energy about him today, he looks like he’s buzzing out of his skin.
You follow him warily to the window that overlooks the street behind your building.
‘Are we looking out for the police?’ you ask, in a dramatic whisper.
He gives you a half-smile. ‘There were two plainclothes cops staking out the place all of last week. I think they’re dealing out of apartment 4B.’
You stare at him. ‘Are you serious?’
He scoffs. ‘How do you not notice these things?’
‘I never really have to worry about the police coming for me,’ you say, straightfaced.
‘Sucks to be you,’ he says, without his usual conviction.
He reaches down towards his jeans and your scowl returns. ‘Jungkook, I really don’t want to see your dick.’
‘Stop lying,’ he says, but what he takes out is a small black rectangular plastic object.
It’s about the size of half of his outstretched palm. 
You wonder where he’s going with this. 
He says, ‘Look.’
You both watch as a man in a business suit pulls up to a parking spot on the street, gets out and locks his car. The headlights flash, twice.
He heads into the apartment building opposite yours.
As soon as he’s out of sight, Jungkook hands you the tiny black rectangle. 
‘Press the button.’
You press the small grey button, and to your surprise, the car headlights flash again.
The car’s unlocked.
‘What the—-‘ 
‘It’s a car key cloning device,’ Jungkook says. 
He takes it back from you.
‘All I have to do is press it at the same time as the person locking the car presses their own key, and it clones the signal.’
He says, with more than a hint of wistfulness, ‘I could steal any car on this street.’
You’re shaking your head. ‘Where did you get this?’
‘I made it,’ he tells you. ‘I didn’t invent the tech, my friend did, but I made this.’
His eyes meet yours. 
‘Can you keep it?’
His words hang in the air between you. 
He mistakes your silence for hesitance. 
‘I just — ‘
He clears his throat and starts again. There’s pleading in his voice, a wild kind of spark in his eyes.
‘Can you keep it? I don’t want it to be this easy to steal a car tonight.’
You swallow past the lump in your throat. He’s never asked for your help like this before.
He usually goes ahead with whatever impulse he has and you’re stuck playing catch up.
Today, he’s given you a head start.
You take the device from him and stick it in your bra.
‘Don’t try to seduce me to get it back,’ you warn.
He’s already eyeing up your tits. 
He clears his throat again. 
‘Actually, I’m surprised you managed to fit it in there. Are you on your period? Your tits look huge.’
As usual, you don’t deign to respond.
‘I was going to make dinner,’ you say. ‘Do you want some?’
‘You can cook me dinner,’ he agrees, like he’s doing you a favour. 
‘But wait. Let me clean up that glass first,’ he says.
‘It’s fine,’ you say. 
He stops you. ‘Nah. Look at your hands.’
You hold a hand out, palm up, and he traces a callused finger along your life line.
Warmth unfurls along your skin, following the path of his finger.
You look up to see him looking at you, heat in his eyes. 
Your heart pounds, slow, and his tongue flicks along his lower lip.
When he speaks, his voice has dropped, low.
‘You’ve probably never even changed the oil in your car,’ he says, but he sounds affectionate, almost.
‘I wouldn’t want you to cut yourself.’
He smiles, and lets go of your hand. 
Your skin feels like it’s crackling with electricity from his touch, and god help you, you want more.
You don’t trust yourself to speak.
Jungkook says, very quietly, ‘You’re doing something for me, let me do this for you.’
Your eyes meet again, and you find your voice. 
‘The oven needs a clean, too, if you’re offering.’
He laughs, and just like that, whatever that moment was, ends.
‘I’ll clean your oven,’ he says, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.  ‘Put a bun in it too.’
‘You’re disgusting,’ you complain, trying to punch him, but he’s already too far away.
***
You’re balancing on the back of the couch on your tip toes, trying to reach the lamp shade so you can change the blown lightbulb in your hanging lights, when the now familiar banging starts on your door.
You turn too quickly, lose your balance and fall headlong onto the floor. 
The resulting crash against the parquet flooring is all the louder because Jungkook’s stopped banging on your door.
You roll onto your back, groaning a little as the wrist you held out to protect your face flares with pain.
Jungkook’s started banging again, and your phone, out of reach on the coffee table, starts ringing.
You can just about make out his name on the screen, and the ridiculous selfie he took of himself shirtless that he put in as his profile on your phone.
All the racket is enough to make you sit up and hobble to the door.
‘Shit, are you ok? I heard a crash,’ says Jungkook, wide-eyed.
‘I’m not good with blood,’ he warns, but he’s checking you over gently anyway.
‘What was so urgent you needed to bang on my door?’ you ask, grumpy.
He presses your sore wrist, gently, and you wince.
‘I got pizza and wanted to know if you wanted some,’ he says. He ushers you to your couch. 
‘I’m getting ice,’ he calls over his shoulder.
‘You could have texted to ask if I wanted pizza,’ you call after him.
He emerges with a bag of frozen peas you didn’t know you had.
‘But then I wouldn’t get to see your face,’ he protests. ‘Also, you never answer my video calls, not since I saw you in your underwear that time.’
You don’t bother correcting him. 
He wraps the peas in a towel and passes the bundle to you. 
‘Your wrist looks bad, you should get it checked out,’ he advises. 
You grimace. ‘I have a case coming up,’ you tell him.
‘Just tell them it was a sex injury,’ Jungkook suggests, helpfully. He offers you a hand to get up. ‘Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital to get checked out.’
‘Fine,’ you say. ‘Grab the pizza.’
***
You’re waiting to see the doctor with Jungkook and trying to ignore the fact that he’s pulled a burner phone out of his back pocket.
He glances around furtively and you’re craning your neck to look at the screen when your name is called.
The doctor who’s said your name looks at Jungkook. 
‘Mr Jeon,’ she says. ‘What is it this time? Another broken metacarpal from fighting?’
Jungkook’s face creases into a smile and you can almost hear the adoring sighing of men and women around the room.
‘Dr Lim,’ he says. ‘You know I don’t break my hand anymore since I started winning all the time.’
You gag at his corniness, but Dr Lim just smiles back. 
‘Well, you’re always welcome to get checked out for any injuries,’ she says. ‘You have my number.’
‘Did you save it on your burner?’ you ask loudly, but they both ignore you.
By the time you’ve had an X-ray and been told your wrist is just sprained, not broken, you’ve heard enough of Jungkook’s smarmy flirting that your ears are burning.
‘Yeah, I’m still going to the gym every day,’ you mimic, flexing your bicep as you get into Jungkook’s car. ‘Want to feel?’
Jungkook rolls his eyes. ‘I don’t talk like that.’
You give him your sleaziest grin. ‘Wow you have your name embroidered on your white coat? Amazing!’
Jungkook starts the car. ‘Still don’t talk like that,’ he mutters.
‘Yeah, let me take you for a spin in my Skyline sometime,’ you say, puffing out your chest and deepening your voice.
‘Seatbelt,’ Jungkook says. 
When you reach for the seatbelt and wince because you forgot about your wrist, he sighs.
You press back into the seat, startled, as he leans over you to fasten your seatbelt for you.
He pauses with his face directly in front of yours. 
He’s so close you can feel his breath on your cheek.
He leans forward and kisses you. 
It’s a peck, and over before you know it, but it’s enough to shut you up.
‘Stop being cute,’ he says. ‘Or I’ll kiss you again.’
He throws the car into gear.
‘Besides,’ he adds. ‘The only woman I’ve tried to impress with this car is you.’
You’re staring at him, still trying to process, when he adds, thoughtfully, ‘then again, I haven’t had this car very long….’
***
You’re trying to get your suitcase down from on top of your wardrobe when there’s a blur of movement in the periphery of your vision. 
You scream and hightail it off the ladder you’re on.
The spider you saw stops right above the corner of the ceiling where your suitcase is.
You’ve already dialled Jungkook without even thinking about it.
He answers with a lazy, drawled, ‘yo’, but his tone sharpens quickly when he hears your voice and panicked breathing.
‘Jungkook. There’s a spider holding my suitcase hostage,’ you whisper, dread in your voice.
‘Why are you whispering?’ Jungkook asks. You can hear the amusement in his voice, and for once you don’t care that he’s laughing at you.
You fight to regulate your volume. ‘It might hear me and attack,’ you say. 
It seems completely reasonable to you.
Jungkook laughs so loudly you have to hold the phone away from your ear. 
‘What does he want with your suitcase?’ Jungkook asks, when he’s re-composed himself enough to speak. 
He’s definitely laughing at you rather than with you, but you’ll take any amount of taunting if he deals with the spider for you. 
‘Please,’ you plead, ‘can you get rid of it.’
Jungkook yawns. ‘Ok. But don’t expect me to put on a shirt.’
A moment later he’s in your apartment, looking up at the ceiling at the spider.
‘Just grab the suitcase please,’ you say. ‘The spider can have this room from now on.’
Jungkook snorts. 
He grabs the suitcase and places it next to you, then, before you can work out what he’s going to do, he taps on the wall next to the spider and it runs down to the floor.
You scream and jump into his arms.
He really did come over bare-chested, the asshole, and the sweatpants he’s barely wearing are low on his hips, so it’s a little more indecent than you’d like, but there’s no fucking way you’re sharing the floor with a spider that can run faster than you.
Automatically, like he’s done this a lot, Jungkook’s big hand reaches down to support your ass. 
He’s still laughing. ‘Is this like, do you want to see my cat, but it’s a spider instead?’ 
You ignore his taunts and bury your face in his shoulder.
His laughter fades. 
‘Shit. Are you crying? Listen, don’t worry. I’ll get rid of it, ok?’
You’re too scared to look at the floor. 
‘You don’t even know where it is now,’ you sob.
‘I know exactly where that fucker is,’ Jungkook assures you. 
He’s probably lying but you don’t want to check for yourself.
He deposits you onto the bed and tries to peel your legs off his waist. 
‘As much as I want to fuck you, let me deal with this spider first, ok?’
At his words, you loosen your legs from around him and he pats your thigh. 
‘Stop crying. Stay here and I’ll get rid of it,’ he promises.
It’s several long minutes and muttered curses later before he returns, a little sweaty but with a glass of water for you.
He hands it to you and brushes your hair back from your face as you drink.
‘I didn’t know you were that scared of spiders,’ he says. His tone is gentler than you’ve ever heard it.
‘They bite,’ you say. 
‘They bite—-‘ Jungkook trails off, shaking his head.
Jungkook sits next to you on the bed. ‘I’m sorry I laughed at you.’
‘It’s ok,’ you say. You swipe at your tearstained face. ‘Did you get it?’
‘Promise I did,’ Jungkook says. ‘Cross my heart. That fucker isn’t bothering you again.’
‘Where did you put him?’ you ask. ‘In the bin?’
‘Nah. Chucked him out the window,’ Jungkook says. ‘Fuck Spiderman.’
‘Fuck Spiderman,’ you echo.
‘Listen, if you have a spider problem again just call me, ok? Or you can text if you’re worried the spider’s going to hear you. I’ll take care of it.’
Jungkook grins. ‘I won’t put a shirt on either.’
He leans back onto his forearms, and the way his abs stand out make you feel pretty tingly, you’re not going to lie.
‘I don’t mind you staring,’ he tells you. ‘I know I look good.’
You roll your eyes, but he’s been so decent about helping you that you’ll let him have that.
‘What’s the suitcase for, anyway?’ he asks.
You sigh. ‘It’s my annual family get together this Saturday,’ you tell him. ‘My entire extended family go to this beach house and we have dinner together and hang out. It’s been a thing since I was a kid.’
‘Sounds nice,’ he says, but his tone is incredulous.
‘It is nice,’ you say. You smile a little. ‘My grandma cooks and my brother Jin goes fishing and I have so many little cousins now.’
You get up. ‘Of course, there’s the usual round of relatives asking ‘why aren’t you settled down and having babies?’ And my cousin Binna’s a pain, but it’s only once a year.’
‘It’s too bad Junwoo was such an ass,’ you say. ‘I was hoping if I came with a date this year that it’d take some of the pressure off.’
‘I can help,’ Jungkook says.
‘For the last time, Jungkook,’ you say, ‘we are not having a baby together.’
‘Firstly,’ Jungkook says, ‘our baby would be so good looking. But that’s not what I meant.’
He looks tentative for the first time since you met him.
‘I can go with you, if you want.’
***
Your suitcase is by the door, ready to go.
You’re waiting for Jungkook to come by so you can leave together for your family retreat.
You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest. It had felt like a good idea having Jungkook come with you at the time. After all, with the amount of time you’ve spent together over the last few months, he knows recent you as well as anyone.
He’d promised on pain of death and dismemberment that he would refrain from excessive sexual innuendo in front of your elders, but that was all you’d managed to get out of him.
You’re almost afraid to look at him when he knocks on your door.
You start from his feet, in the boots he’s favoured lately, to jeans with no visible rips that you can see in the front, to his fly which is done completely up, to his belt and then a white wife-beater over which he’s layered a black shirt.
When you get to his face he’s smirking at you. 
‘Spent a long time checking out my dick,’ he comments.
‘Just checking your fly was done up,’ you say, semi-truthfully.
He lifts your suitcase for you.
At your expression he says, ‘Don’t worry, you can pay me back by giving me a blow job whilst I’m driving us to the coast.’
‘Sounds dangerous,’ you reply.
‘Jagiya,’ he says, smarmy, ‘Danger is my middle name.’
‘Don’t ever call me that again,’ you threaten.
‘Princess?’ he wonders.
‘Shut up and drive, Jeon Jungkook.’
***
Jungkook’s driving is so steady that you fall asleep and wake only when he stops for petrol.
You look around, disoriented, and see him looking at you through the glass of the rear passenger window.
He opens the door. ‘Want anything from the shop?’
You yawn. ‘No thanks.’
When he gets back in the car, you say, ‘Hey, let me know what I owe you for gas.’
He snorts as he drives out of the petrol station. ‘You know my family owns the biggest manufacturing company in Busan, right?’
You shrug. ‘Money ain’t everything.’
He nods. ‘Yeah, money ain’t everything, if you’re just normal rich. I’m fuck you and all your ancestors rich.’
You say, lightly, ‘I’m never paying my share of takeout again.’
He laughs. ‘That’s what I like about you. You don’t give a shit.’
‘That’s not true,’ you protest. ‘How many people would have chased you across town to track you down when you stole that French ambassador’s diplomatic car?’
He’s quiet. 
The road stretches out in front of you.
‘I’m seeing someone, you know,’ he says.
‘What?’ you scoff. ‘Who’s dating you?’
‘Not like that,’ he tells you. He glances at you in the rearview. 
‘I don’t want you to have to be a crutch for me forever.’
Now it’s your turn to be quiet. 
Since that time when Jungkook came over to hand over his key fob cloning device, he’s dropped various things over at your apartment for various periods of time.
A pen drive.
The keys to his Skyline.
His burner phone.
Once, a black jewelled thong, but you think he was just fucking with you that time.
You cleared a drawer in your hall table for him, and things appear and disappear.
He doesn’t always talk about it, not like that first time. 
‘I’m glad you’re working on it,’ you say, sincerely.
You lean back in your seat. ‘You know you can always drop stuff off in the drawer if you need to.’
‘Oh in the drawer?’ he says, feigning surprise. ‘What about your spare room wardrobe? I left weed and maybe a couple of stacks in there.’
‘Fucking hell,’ you grumble, ‘No wonder all my linens smell like a college dorm.’
You’re both smiling.
‘Thanks for helping me out with this,’ you say. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘How come you couldn’t get one of those Yonsei dipshits to take you?’
You roll your eyes. ‘Firstly, you asshole, I went to SNU.’
Jungkook snickers.
‘Secondly, sad as it is, you’re the only man I’ve spent any time with lately.’
‘That’s what I mean,’ he says. ‘You’re hot, you put up with a lot of shit and you have an ass that won’t quit. How come you’re not dating anyone?’
You look out the window. ‘You’re right, I’m such a catch, why am I single?’
Jungkook asks, ‘Are you really bad in bed?’
You’d laugh if the turn of conversation wasn’t so depressing.
‘Yeah. I’m really bad.’
‘I wouldn’t mind if you were a pillow princess with me,’ Jungkook says. You think he means it as a compliment.
You say, just to move the conversation on, ‘Did you bring any snacks?’
‘Yeah,’ Jungkook says. He reaches into the center console and tosses you a pack of corn chips. ‘Please feed me too.’
You spend the rest of the drive placing corn chips into Jeon Jungkook’s filthy but admittedly beautiful mouth.
***
You and Jungkook are one of the first to arrive at the beach house. Your parents and Jin are already there. 
You’re worried Jungkook might be nervous about meeting your parents, but he surprises you again.
Once introduced, he chats easily with your dad about cars, and you can tell from your dad’s reactions that he likes Jungkook.
Jin nudges you as you follow your parents and Jungkook into the house.
‘Binna’s going to be all over him,’ he says.
Your cousin is beautiful, sexy and could flirt with a rock.
You shrug. ‘Don’t worry, Jinnie. You’re still the prettiest around.’
Jin says, crossly, ‘I wasn’t worried about that.’
You’re both distracted by the arrival of your cousin and her children.
The minivan pulls up almost to the entrance of the beach house, and your cousin Daeun jumps out.
‘Dasom superglued her hand to Jinah’s face,’ she announces grimly. 
She hands you baby Taehyun. ‘Can you watch the baby? I’m taking them to the drugstore to see if they can give us anything to get this shit off.’
‘Mama said a bad word,’ chants Dasom. 
‘I’ll drive you,’ volunteers Jin.
He ushers Daeun and the girls into his car. 
You look for someone to help.
‘Need a hand?’ Jungkook asks, popping up from behind you.
You huff. ‘Can you sort this car out?’
Jungkook appraises the minivan in silence for a moment.
‘Yeah,’ Jungkook replies, serious. ‘It probably won’t sell for much as it is. I’ll have to take it apart to sell it for parts.’
You glare at him. ‘I meant park it, Jungkook, not sell it on the stolen cars black market.’
Jungkook laughs incredulously. ‘Stolen cars black market? What even is that? Have you learnt nothing from the last year?’
Taehyun, in your arms, giggles along with Jungkook. 
You can’t believe you’re being ridiculed simultaneously by both a baby and the grown-ass man you’re babysitting.
Jungkook’s still chuckling to himself as he maneuvres the minivan expertly into the space beside his car.
You can see him through the window, the asshole.
***
Jin hadn’t been wrong about Binna being interested in Jungkook. To be fair, even happily married Daeun had given him a second look.
Even your conservative grandmother had looked past all his visible tattoos and piercings and declared him a good boy.
You’re pretending not to notice as Binna, sitting on the other side of Jungkook at the dinner table, leans into Jungkook’s arm as she reaches for the green beans.
Your Auntie Rina fixes you with a look. 
‘I’m so glad you finally found a man,’ she says. ‘We were so worried you’d be single forever.’
Beside you, Jungkook stiffens. 
‘I wasn’t worried,’ says your mother from opposite Jungkook. ‘Better no man than the wrong man.’
‘It’s true,’ sniffs Auntie Rina. ‘Who was that awful boyfriend of yours who kept asking if you really wanted more helpings? As though there’s anything wrong with your weight…’
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. She isn’t saying anything she hasn’t said before, to be fair.
Jungkook, beside you, nudges his full glass of soju towards you. 
‘Is your car the 2019 model outside?’ he asks your aunt. ‘I know a man who can fix it for you.’
‘Fix it?’ Auntie Rina asks.
‘Yeah. Looks like it has a flat tire,’ Jungkook says, wide-eyed, all innocence. 
Your eyes meet his, and you choke back a laugh. 
As soon as the conversation moves on you turn to Jungkook. ‘Does it really have a flat tire?’ you ask, under your breath.
Jungkook leans so close his lips brush your ear, making your skin prickle. 
‘I’ll make sure it does,’ he promises. 
After dinner, you excuse yourself to get some air and find Jungkook sitting on the steps leading down to the sand, behind the house smoking a cigarette.
You sit next to him. 
‘Thank you,’ you tell him. ‘I hope this isn’t too awful.’
He just smiles, exhales. 
‘I’m enjoying it,’ he says simply.
There’s a breeze blowing in from the sea, ruffling his hair. 
He’s so pretty like this you’d take a picture if you weren’t worried he’d never let you hear the end of it.
Jungkook reaches out, curls a finger in a lock of your hair.
He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t get a chance to.
You lean forward, close your eyes and kiss him.
It’s short and it’s lovely. 
You start to pull away, but he cups the side of your face and kisses you back.
His lips are soft, and he kisses you slow, like he wants to learn the shape of your lips with his own.
He hums, deep in his chest, as his lips meet yours. 
For all the crass sexual comments he’s made to you over the last year, Jeon Jungkook’s kisses are undemanding, sweet.
When he pulls away, you’re both breathless.
His cigarette glows on the step next to him, forgotten.
‘I knew I’d like kissing you,’ he tells you. 
You look down at his hand, somehow entwined with yours.
‘Are you holding my hand?’ you ask.
‘Yeah. You’re a little sweaty but I don’t mind,’ he tells you.
He laughs when you try to pull away. 
‘Do you want to come to my room?’ you ask.
He hesitates. 
‘I’d like to, but you know, I’m really good at fucking, are you going to be able to keep your voice down?’
‘Shut up, I’ve changed my mind,’ you say, getting up.
He tugs you back down. ‘Hey.’
He waits until you’re looking at him.
‘If you really want me there, I’d love to go to your room,’ he tells you.
For once, he sounds completely serious.
‘Yeah. Come.’
***
You’d been a bit worried it might be awkward, but true to form, Jungkook jumps into your bed and pats the covers like he’s the one inviting you into your own bed.
‘It’s my bed,’ you grumble, but he just laughs. 
He kisses you again, his mouth warm over yours. He tastes like the soju he’d been drinking, and he hums when you part your lips to taste more of him.
His tongue licks into your mouth, and when you run your hands over his shoulders he slips his shirt over his head. 
He stops you when your hands go to the hem of your top to do the same.
‘Can I?’ he asks.
You nod, and raise your arms to help.
‘Fuck,’ he murmurs. He’s staring at your breasts. ‘I’m going to need to cum on your tits as my last dying wish.’
‘Jeon Jungkook, shut the fuck up.’
‘Screaming my name already,’ he teases, but he starts kissing down the curve of your neck and the whine that falls from your lips is involuntary.
He hums approvingly as your arms tighten around his shoulders.
He dips his head between your breasts and then nips over the curve of your left breast.
He reaches around your back to unhook your bra, waits until you nod to undo it. 
‘Pretty,’ he says, then he’s sucking a hickey into your skin, laving with his tongue when you whine in protest.
He’s hard. You can feel him even through the layers of clothing as he grinds his hips on yours.
You tuck the tips of your fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tug. He kisses you again, then pushes up onto his knees on your bed.
He unbuttons, slips his jeans down, and holy fuck, it’s not like you haven’t seen him in his boxer briefs before, but it’s a whole different ball game when he’s looking down at you, heat in his eyes and his dick so hard your mouth waters at the sight of it.
No pun intended.
Jungkook pushes your hands away when they go to your own waistband.
 ‘Let me do it,’ he says. 
He tugs your jeans down over your ass and thighs.
‘Fuck,’ he breathes. ‘These silky panties look even better on you.’
You press a hand over his open mouth.
‘Shut up and fuck me,’ you say. 
You trail your hand over the length of him in his briefs, and then he’s moving fast, fumbling with his jeans.
He pulls out a strip of condoms and catches your eye.
You giggle at how ridiculous he looks, and a moment later, he’s laughing too.
‘How many times —‘
You’re cut off by his mouth on yours.
‘Many. I’ll fuck you as many times as you want,’ he tells you, breath hot on your cheek.
He nudges your thigh with his. ‘Spread.’
He fits himself between your legs and kisses you again. 
The blunt head of him nudges you, and you don’t realise you’re holding your breath until he’s in you all the way and you’re dizzy with pleasure.
He buries his head in your neck. 
‘Fuck. You feel so fucking good,’ he groans.
He moves, a slow stroke that makes you arch into him.
You moan his name, and he moves again, rocking his hips against yours, deep, hard.
You close your eyes but realise what a mistake that was when you open them again and see how beautiful Jeon Jungkook looks when he’s fucking you.
He hooks a forearm around your thighs and drags you to the edge of the bed so he can stand and fuck you.
Fuck, how have you never realised how strong he is?
He smirks at you, and you’d want to slap it off his face except he’s doing something with his hips now that’s making the pleasure spiral and you’re two short steps from —-
He lowers his mouth to yours again and then you’re coming, legs wrapped around his hips, his chest flattening yours, his sweat all over you. 
He murmurs what sounds like approval as he fucks you through it.
You gasp his name and he groans, fucking you harder, speeding up and then slowing until he comes, buried deep inside you.
He pulls out, yanks off the condom with a whine and ties it off, dropping it on the floor carelessly. He collapses down next to you, panting. 
For a moment you’re both quiet.
Then he says, ‘Shit. That was way better than jerking off with those panties I stole.’
You slap him on the chest. ‘Shut up, asshole.’
‘Stop flirting with me. I need a minute before we can go again.’
Jungkook grins at you but he’s still got an arm around your hips and his thigh slotted between yours so you can’t be too mad.
***
You wake up to bright sunshine right in your face even though you drew the drapes last night before you went to bed because Jeon Jungkook is halfway in your open window.
You sit up, confused as hell. 
‘What the fuck—‘
You can’t work out if he’s coming or going.
You get your answer then he drops into your room with a thud.
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘Forgot to slash those tires last night.’
‘You didn’t?!’
‘Keep your voice down,’ he advises. ‘We don’t want her to know it was me.’
You’re speechless.
‘Did you seriously just —‘
‘Don’t finish your question so I don’t have to answer it,’ Jungkook tells you.
He’s getting undressed again, kicking off his shoes, staring hard at your bare chest half covered by the duvet.
He jumps back into bed with you and you greet him with another kiss.
His hand trails over the curve of your breasts.
‘Let’s not talk about it again,’ you say.
‘Yeah,’ he agrees.
‘Do you want to come on my tits?’
Jungkook groans. ‘Fuck, yeah.’
***
You’re back at home in your apartment unpacking when the familiar banging on your door starts.
You yank the door open. ‘You literally just left, Jeon Jungkook,’ you complain, before you realise he’s not alone.
Jeon Mido, Jungkook’s mother and your boss, is standing outside your door and you’ve still got sand in your hair from fucking Jungkook on the beach before you left the beach house. 
Jungkook adjusts the collar of his shirt in a vain attempt to hide the hickey you gave him.
‘I’m sorry,’ you apologise. ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’
Jeon Mido smiles graciously at you. 
‘Jungkook tells me he met your parents over the weekend,’ she says.
‘They liked him a lot,’ you tell her, wondering where she’s going with this.
She nods. ‘Good. I thought maybe you’d like to come to dinner with us tomorrow night. My husband would love to meet you.’
You’re so surprised you can’t do anything but accept.
Jeon Mido smiles at you and takes her leave.
You turn to Jungkook. ‘What was that?’
Jungkook shrugs, shaking sand out of his jeans pockets. 
‘She’s always said she wants to meet my girlfriends.’
He’s not looking at you directly, and the tips of his ears are red.
‘What?’
‘I don’t know,’ he says, finally.  ‘I’ve never had a girl I’m dating meet my parents before.’
‘We’re not dating!’ 
He’s looking at you now. ‘Aren’t we?’
The way he’s looking at you gives you pause.
‘We see each other every day. We hang out at each others’ places. You help me with my problems and I help you with yours. I’ve met your family.’
He smiles. ‘And you’re the most fucking amazing girl I’ve ever met.’
You stare at him.
‘Unless,’ he continues, ‘you just want to be fuck buddies. I’m down with that too.’
He looks like he’s about to turn away so you grab his arm and tug him towards you. 
‘Ok, Jeon Jungkook, I’ll date you,’ you say.
He nods. ‘I thought so.’
He leans down so you can kiss the smug smirk off his face.
©hamsterclaw 2024
With thanks to bloviating-vy for introducing me to the phrase 'fuck you rich' and the works of Smashy for the immortal phrase 'Yonsei dipshits'.
1K notes · View notes
matchingbatbites · 4 months
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Happy Valentine's, all. <3
Eddie doesn't want to be making this call. Literally the last thing he wants to be doing is making this specific phone call, but he'll be damned if he lets his asshole of a roommate get away with this.
After a moment the ringing stops, and a voice says "Hello?"
"Uh, hi, is this Steve?"
"It is, who is this?"
"It's Eddie, Jake's roommate? I got your number from him." Well, from his phone when he'd left it unattended one day, but Steve doesn't need to know the details. "I really, really hate to be making this call, especially the day before Valentine's, but uh. Jake is cheating on you."
The line is silent for a moment before he hears a weak "What?"
Eddie's eyes squeeze shut at the heartbreak he can hear in that single word. He hates that he's doing this, but knows it needs to be done, for Steve's sake.
"I got home from work not too long ago, and heard him with some girl in his room. I took a video, if you want proof, but I just- I thought you deserved to know."
There's a bit of shuffling on Steve's end, along with a soft sniffle. "I, uh. I don't need the video. I believe you. I'm not all that surprised, if I'm honest."
He huffs a laugh, the sound so self-deprecating that it makes Eddie's stomach twist in empathy. "Guess that makes me three-for-three on my long-term partners cheating. I'm starting to wonder what the fuck is wrong with me."
That last part is softer, like Steve was speaking to himself, but Eddie hears it and frowns, because- because Steve is lovely. He can tell that Steve is beautiful inside and out, always kind with just enough sass to make him so fun to be around.
He's always makes sure to talk to Eddie every time he comes over, even if it's just a simple greeting or goodbye, and whenever he cooks at their apartment - because he's a great cook - he always makes enough for Eddie to have some as well.
It feels wrong to hear Steve talk like this, like there's something about him that needs to be fixed. Like his previous partners were right to abuse his love and trust, instead of treating them like the treasures Eddie knows they are.
Before Eddie can speak out to reassure him, the man continues. "Thank you for telling me Eddie. Spending Valentine's alone is gonna suck, but I guess that's better than spending it with someone who doesn't care about me."
"Spend it with me."
Eddie isn't sure where the request comes from, but as soon as it leaves his mouth, it's all he wants.
Steve gives a soft "Huh?" and Eddie repeats it, "Spend it with me. A boy as pretty as you shouldn't be cooped up inside on a day like Valentine's. Let me take you out, try to salvage it for you at least a little."
Steve goes quiet, and for a solid ten seconds, Eddie is sure that he's about to be rejected.
And then Steve says "Jake was supposed to pick me up at 6:30 tomorrow. I'll come by yours at six instead, so I can break up with him before we leave. Is that okay?"
A sigh of relief, and Eddie slumps into the wall behind him. "Sounds perfect, Stevie. Wear something nice, but casual, okay?"
"I can do that. I'll see you tomorrow, Eddie. And thanks again."
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Jake comes across Eddie the next evening as he's packing the last of the food into a bag. He's spent the last hour or so getting it ready, making sure it's all perfect even though it's nothing too complicated.
A meat and cheese plate with some fancy crackers, a jar of the pickled asparagus he's recently become addicted to, a bowl of diced fruit and a box of fancy chocolates he'd splurged on.
He'd even dropped money on a bouquet of roses, and he already has a few comfy blankets and pillows packed into the back of the van. Everything perfect and ready to go. When Jake sees his preparations, he lets out a low whistle.
"Wow, Eddie. Trying to impress someone?"
Eddie shrugs, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "Yep. It's our first date, so I want it to be special. Didn't wanna go the usual, boring, fancy restaurant route."
He's sure that's what Jake had planned for himself and Steve, and it's confirmed by the way his nose wrinkles. "There's nothing wrong with spending money on your date, Eddie. If you have the money to spend, that is."
Jesus Christ, Eddie can't wait to move out of this fucking place, and away from this fucking asswipe.
"Anyway, I've gotta go pick up Steve soon, and I'm planning on bringing him back here tonight, so maybe see if you can crash with your date, yeah?"
"Sure thing-" Eddie replies, though he's interrupted by the sound of a knock ringing through the apartment. He grins wide, knowing exactly who it is. "That must be my date. Can you grab that while I finish up here?"
Jake rolls his eyes but complies, and Eddie freezes in place, not daring to make a sound so he can hear whatever interaction is about to happen.
The door opens, and he hears Jake's confused "Steve? What are you doing here? I'm supposed to be-"
"Yeah, we're not doing anything anymore. Ever again, actually."
God, Steve sounds so bitchy, and Eddie fucking loves it. He grabs the bag of food and the bouquet of roses from the counter, glad that he got dressed beforehand, and makes his way to the entry.
"What are you saying, Steve?"
"I'm saying that we're over, Jake. Maybe you can call the girl you fucked last night and take her to dinner instead."
Eddie turns the corner in time to see Jake's stunned expression, clearly not expecting Steve to throw that at him. He takes a moment to bask in the fire burning behind hazel eyes, until they slide to him and that fire vanishes, replaced with something sparkling and delighted.
"Hi, Eddie," Steve says, his demeanor changing like the flip of a switch, and Eddie beams. He steps closer and offers the bouquet of roses, along with a "Happy Valentine's, Stevie."
The money Eddie spent on the flowers was worth it to see the blush that floods Steve's face as he reaches out to take them.
"Oh, thank you. That's really sweet of you."
"What the fuck is happening right now?"
Eddie and Steve both turn to look at a very petulant and confused Jake, and Steve just smiles. "Well, you just got dumped, and my Valentine is about to take me on a date."
It takes a moment, but something must finally click, because Jake's face goes red with rage. Eddie just grabs Steve's arm, guiding him out of the apartment before the man can actually do something.
"So what's the plan?" Steve asks as he takes Eddie's hand, lacing their fingers together as Eddie leads him to his van.
"Well, uh. The next town over still has a drive in theater, and they're showing some old romance movies tonight. The drive to get there is pretty nice, and we'll actually have some time to talk, and then- I have some blankets and pillows in the back of the van, and I brought food so we can do a picnic during the movies. I mean, if- if that sounds good to you."
Steve's eyes are sparkling again as Eddie rambles, and he squeezes their hands in delight. "That sounds perfect, Eds."
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By the time Eddie gets home late that night, he's learned two things:
The first is that Steve had already been debating on breaking up with Jake before this whole fiasco, but the thing stopping him was that he actually likes being around Eddie, and he thought wanting to hang out with his ex-boyfriend's roommate would be too weird.
The second thing Eddie's learned is that Steve's smile tastes like dark chocolate and sunshine, and kissing him might just be Eddie's new favorite hobby.
(Eddie does eventually show the video to Steve, just to reassure him that he didn't break them up so Eddie could date him instead. The only comment Steve makes is "She's definitely faking, his dick game isn't that good.")
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evansbby · 4 months
Text
𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥✨🎀
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Pairing: quarterback!Ari Levinson x naive!Reader
Summary: You have to do what daddy says, no matter how depraved it may be.
Warnings: smutt, dd/lg vibes, daddy kink, phone sex, riding of stuffed animals, dirty talk, Ari being depraved, Ari being a cocky asshole, innocence kink.
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“But Ari, I’ve never sent nudes before.”
You bite your lip, moving your phone from one ear to the other. It was 2am, and you’re usually never awake this late. But you’d been working on a paper that was due tomorrow morning, and then Ari had called you.
Which was crazy. You didn’t even know Ari had your number. He was a senior and you were only a freshman and it was insane that he wanted to talk to you! You’d only ever met him once at a party last week, where he’d flirted with you sporadically throughout the night. You didn’t think much of it at the time, since he’d been flirting with a bunch of other girls too.
“Just lift your shirt up and send me a picture, sweetheart.” Ari insists, sounding smug on the other end of the line. “Maybe play with your tits a bit? Fuck, you have such nice tits.”
“Y-You think so?”
“Yeah, baby. I can’t stop staring at them whenever I see you in person.”
“Oh. Thanks!” You know you shouldn’t be happy with such a shallow compliment, but the fact that he’s interested in you is giving you butterflies. He was older than you, and he was the captain of the football team and the most popular guy on campus. You were, of course, none of those things.
“Well? Don’t keep me waiting.” There’s a slight edge to his tone.
You inhale deeply, opening your camera and lifting your top up. You’re not wearing a bra and your nipples are already hard from Ari’s smooth-talking and his gravelly voice. You snap a quick picture before sending it to him.
A pause.
“Fuck, you are so hot.”
“Thank you!” You glow at the praise. But then your eye catches the clock on your nightstand, “ooh, Ari, it’s getting late! I need to sleep now.”
“No.” Ari commands. “Let’s talk on FaceTime.”
“But I’m only in my PJs!” (They were babyish pyjamas too, nothing sexy at all.)
He ignores you, cutting the call and then calling you again through FaceTime. You accept it, gasping because he was shirtless on his bed. You’d never seen him shirtless before! His chest and torso were so muscular and hairy—but it made him look so manly that you couldn’t help but feel sparks run down your spine.
“Cute PJs.” He snorts.
“I’m sorry I don’t have anything sexier.”
“Don’t worry, baby. But maybe you should just take your top off completely, hm?”
“Oh, uh… I don’t know about that, Ari.”
“I’m not wearing a shirt, am I? So it’s only fair if you don’t wear one either.” He gives you a charming smile and you feel your insides turn to goo. Oh, you had the biggest crush on him! You can already feel every cell in your body itching to do exactly what he’s asked you to.
You shrug your top off, trying only to focus on Ari and how his eyes widen, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. He licks his lips and runs a hand through his unruly brown hair. His other hand is out of frame, and you can’t see what he’s doing with it.
“Fuck, you’re so goddamn sexy, baby, showing off your hot, tight little body to me, huh?”
“I—I…uh… y-yeah, I guess—”
“Move up and down for me a bit, I wanna see your tits bounce. Mm, just like that, sweetie. Fuck, you love listening to me, don’t you?”
You watch in awe as he spits down into the palm of his hand, and now you can guess what his hand is doing and it makes your eyes widen but your core pulses with lust too.
“Look how hard your nipples are, baby. Touch ‘em for me. Play with them like a little slut, like how all the pornstars and slutty cam-girls do it. Like you’re being paid to do it, fuck! Goddamn, you’re so hot.”
He pans his camera downwards for a split second, and you gasp when you see his huge cock in his hand. He’s pumping it steadily, and it looks so big and fat and red and—
“B-But Ari, I’ve never watched porn before so I don’t know how a pornstar does it.” You blurt out.
A pause.
“Mm, you’re a real good girl aren’t you?” Ari chuckles breathlessly, running a hand through his hair again. He’s still pumping his dick, but more leisurely now, like a wolf who knows he has all night to play with his prey.
You shrug awkwardly, “I guess I am.”
“So tell me, how does a good girl like you like to be fucked?”
“Wh-What?!”
Ari snorts, “C’mon, sweetheart. You and I both know I’m gonna fuck you real soon. So I need to know how you like it. All sweet and slow? Because I can do that shit. Or are you a real freak in the sheets, and want me to shove your face against a pillow and take you hard and fast on your hands and knees?”
Your mouth drops open, and you suddenly feel so shy because how is he talking about such graphic things so easily???
“Mm, you like the sound of that second option huh?” Ari says, and now he sounds slightly breathless. His face is shiny with a layer of sheen, and his hair is falling over his face as he pumps his dick and his eyes look all over your topless form like he’s ravenous. “The innocent ones are always the freaky ones.”
“I’m not freaky!”
“So you don’t want me to fuck you doggy style with my hand round your throat like you’re wearing a goddamn collar, huh baby?” His voice sounds rough, gravelly, so infinitely turned on. And it’s crazy how quickly he switches back and forth from that to his casual, charming tone.
“Bet your little baby pussy is clenching right now, isn’t it baby? And I bet you’ve made a mess all over your bed because you’re so turned on.”
You glance down guiltily, hating how he’s right. There’s a huge wet stain on your sheets underneath you. You hadn’t realised just how wet you were because of all this. You bow your head and Ari smirks knowingly.
“Virgins get the wettest. And you’re a virgin, aren’t you?”
Your eyes widen even more and you nod. Fuck, fuck, fuck, how did he know?!
“That’s what I thought.” Ari lets out a low groan, jacking off even faster. “Now listen, I want you to practice for when I fuck you.”
“Practice?”
“Yes, baby. I need to teach you so many things. But first tell me, do you have a stuffed animal in your room?”
Your face lights up, “Sure I do! This is Fluffy!” You grab your stuffed lamb and wave it in front of your camera.
“Give Fluffy a kiss.” Ari orders you darkly, his tone switching to more serious.
“Huh?”
“You heard me. Give your toy a kiss.” His normally blue eyes are now almost black, his pupils are so blown out with lust. And his order is kind of weird but you feel your pussy clench and leak some more, and you know you’re turned on by how authoritative he’s being.
You obey, pecking the stuffed lamb quickly. You feel embarrassed but you’re also feeling extremely submissive. And obeying him is turning you on so much.
“Not like that, baby. Make out with Fluffy properly. Like you would if it was me.” Ari says, and you look at him in shock only to see him smirking lazily back at you. His dick is throbbing against his hairy abs and he’s once again lazily stroking himself as he watches you intently. “Use your tongue.”
It’s by far the weirdest thing you’ve ever done. You scrunch your eyes shut and try to imagine your stuffie is Ari. And it’s not like you haven’t done it before — because you’ve practiced kissing on your stuffies in the past. But never in front of an audience, let alone a ravenous looking jock who’s jacking off while watching your every move intently.
“Mm, just like that. You like kissing Fluffy, huh?” He asks you darkly, and you can hear the steady thwapping sound of him pumping his dick.
“Uh. Not really, it’s kind of wei—”
“Use your tongue more,” he cuts you off, “get your little toy nice and wet, baby. Mm, just like that. Daddy loves it when you do it like that.”
You gape at him, “d-daddy?”
Ari smirks, “yeah. That’s what you’re gonna call me from now on. Got it?”
You gulp, “I didn’t know that was a thing.”
He licks his lips, “of course you didn’t know, you’re just a baby. But guys love it when girls call them daddy. It just means I’m in charge of you and that I’ll take care of you. That sounds nice, doesn’t it?”
You mull over his words. That did sound nice, and the idea of calling him daddy was kinda making you feel all hot and bothered down there…
“Try it.” Ari suggests, “Say that you’re just a little baby who needs her daddy to tell her what to do.”
You bite your lip, “uh—okay. I-I’m just a little baby and I need my… my daddy to tell me what to do.” You pause and beam, looking at him through your phone screen proudly, “how was that?”
He nods approvingly, “you’re a natural, baby. Now why don’t you put Fluffy between your legs so he can kiss your other lips?”
Your jaw drops, and yet you feel yourself clench at his words, “What??”
“Come on, sweetheart. Do it for daddy. I’m not here to give you your special kissies down there, which means Fluffy has to do it, right?”
“Special k-kissies?”
“That’s right. Little baby girls like you need their special kissies or else you’ll disappoint your daddy.”
You glance down at your pyjama shorts which are soaking wet. Despite you feeling awkward, you also felt immensely turned on by each word that came out of his mouth. How he was ordering you to do these depraved things… How he was talking to you all condescendingly like you were a baby… Oh, you didn’t want to disappoint him!
Slowly, you spread your legs and press Fluffy down against your clothed mound. You make sure to pan your phone downwards so Ari can see, and he groans appreciatively. His thumb strokes the head of his dick before he moves his hand up and down, now leisurely stroking himself as if he wants to savour these next few moments.
“That’s right, hump your sexy little baby pussy against your toy. Doesn’t that feel so sexy, baby?”
You nod, “feels good, Ari—I mean daddy. It feels good.”
“Damn right it does, daddy always knows what’s best for my little baby.” He runs his hand through his already dishevelled hair. His cheeks are flushed and he’s got a dark, determined look on his face as he continues to jack off, his eyes glued on you.
“Ride your little stuffie just like that,” he murmurs, “get that pretty baby pussy all wet and slippery and worked up, ready for my daddy dick. How’s that sound, princess? You ready for daddy’s dick?”
You bite your lip again, this time in pleasure as you continue to rub your pussy against the stuffie, “I think so. But you’re so big…”
That makes him smile, and he pans his camera down again to show you his fat, angry red cock. He’s got a huge vein running down it, and you get the sudden urge to lick it. God, he was so big! And thick too! You feel giddy and scared at the thought that he might actually be your first…
“H-How many girls have you slept with, daddy?” you ask shyly.
“Only a few,” he snorts, his tone vague before the glint in his eye returns. “I think I’ll only be able to fit my big dick halfway through your tiny snatch.” He says, “What do you think, baby?”
You nod, “I agree, you’re—uh— super big, daddy.”
“Mmhm, but you’d love it even more if I held you down and forced my fat cock inside your baby cunt till I’m all the way in, so deep you can feel me in your fucking womb, wouldn’t you?” he lets out a string of curse words as he pumps himself, “Tell me you’d like that.”
“I would!” You cry, feeling like you’re so, so close to cumming, “d-daddy, I—”
“Shhh, baby girl. Daddy knows,” Ari’s watching you like a hawk as your movements grow more and more desperate, your hips rutting against your poor stuffed lamb. “Put your phone up against your pillow or something, so I can watch you ride your toy properly.”
You do as he asks, no questions asked. And it’s times like this where you feel extremely lucky that you don’t have a roommate. And you hope Ari doesn’t either.
“Yeah, just like that. Get your toy all wet, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re so sexy,” Ari spits down on his palm before resuming to pump his cock, “bet you wish it was daddy underneath you like that, don’t you? Bet you wish I was eating your cunt just like that.”
You fist the sheets, trying not to look at your stuffie as you straddle it, humping it like a wanton whore.
“Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” A few strands of his brown hair flip over his forehead, and he pushes them back impatiently, “Riding your daddy’s tongue, rubbing your baby cunt all over my face while you hold your little stuffed animal and cry like a baby ‘cause it’s too much for a little girl like you to handle.”
“Oh, I’d really like that!” you cry out, the pleasure within you mounting as you continue to breathlessly rub against your stuffie. You don’t even know what you’re saying anymore, but he’s painting such a vivid, hot picture with his words that you can’t help but agree. “W-Wanna ride you so bad, daddy. Would be so much – ah! – so much better than Fluffy!”
Ari smirks, “Damn right, it would. And tell me how you’d dress up for me, baby.”
“Would wear anything you want me to!”
“Yeah? What about a pretty pink princess dress? You’d wear that for daddy?”
“Y-Yeah!”
“A cute and flouncy one, where your cute little ass pokes out every time you bend over in it,” he grunts, leaning forward as his pumping gets faster, “Your bare ass just begging for a hard slap – fuck! Tell me you’d like that!”
“I’d love it!” you agree quickly, your whole body on fire just from his words. But then, despite everything, a thought occurs to you, “B-But, daddy. I don’t have a flouncy pink dress like that.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll buy you one.” Ari promises. “But first, you need to take your shorts off for me.”
You don’t even object this time. The fabric of your pyjama shorts is all wet and sticky against your pussy, so you quickly discard them before resuming what you’re doing. And you can’t help but throw your head back and moan embarrassingly loudly, because the stuffie’s fur catching against your bare clit feels heavenly. You circle your hips against Fluffy with renowned vigour, all while Ari watches you closely with carnal eyes.
“Show me your ass,” he orders you softly, and yet there’s a note of authority in his tone, “show daddy your cute little baby ass, sweetheart.”
You grab your phone, scrunching your eyes shut as you twist awkwardly, pointing it to your ass. But your heart skips a beat when Ari groans in appreciation.
“Fuck, you’ve got such a cute little butt, princess,” Ari murmurs, his gaze on you intense. “I bet it jiggles all cutely when you slap it, huh?”
“I – ah! – I dunno…”
His dark eyes flash, “Slap your ass for me, princess.”
Oh gosh, how embarrassing! You hesitate, “I…I…”
“Do it. Do what daddy tells you,” Ari runs his tongue over his lips, “I’m in charge and I know what’s best for you, sweetheart. Don’t disappoint me. Spank your little baby ass for daddy.”
You do as he asks, so completely under his control that you just can’t think straight. All you want to do is chase your own pleasure as you continue to ride your stuffed animal, and listen to the dirty talk coming out of Ari’s mouth. You gingerly slap your ass lightly, and Ari moans in appreciation before ordering you to do it harder. You comply once more, you’re so close to orgasming that you don’t even think twice.
“Yeah, fuck. Just like that, baby. God, I wish I could spank that cute ass of yours myself. Next time I see you at a party, I’m bending you over my lap in front of everyone. You’d let me do that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes!” You’d have agreed to anything at this point.
“Damn right. And I’d flip your skirt over and spank your bare ass in front of all my fucking friends, because you’re my property and I can do that, can’t I?”
“Y-Yes! Ari, I’m so close!”
“Oh yeah, baby? Cum then. I’m not stopping you.”
Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, and you don’t stop moving your hips, imagining your riding his thick cock as you cry out in pleasure. And you can hear Ari talking you through it, calling you his good little girl, telling you that daddy’s so proud of you, that you’re doing so well, that you’re so good at following instructions. And fuck, you’ve never been this wet before, and you’ve never cum this hard before. It takes you a good few minutes to recover, limbs shaking and your core so sensitive.
Once you finally regain your senses, you peer shyly at your phone once more to see Ari throwing away a wad of tissues.
“D-Did you…?”
He snorts, “After that show you just put on? Of course I did.”
Heat rushes to your face, a part of you disappointed that you missed out on watching him orgasm because you were too wrapped up in your own pleasure. “Oh. Wow, okay.”
Ari grins, “Look at you, all shy all of a sudden. Cat got your tongue, baby?”
You purse your lips and stick your chin out defiantly at him, “No! Just… Tired is all.”
Ari nods thoughtfully, “Tired, huh? So then I shouldn’t come over tonight?”
Tonight? But it was so late! And yet your pussy thrums at the thought.
“Y-You wanna come over?” You breathe.
“Yeah, sweetheart. I gotta touch you in person, otherwise I won’t be able to sleep the whole night.” He flashes you a cocky smile, and you watch in awe as he zips his jeans and pulls a shirt over his head. You can’t help but bite your lip. God, he was the most attractive, hottest guy you’d ever seen in your life!
“So, you gonna text me your address, or what?”
“Yes, daddy.”
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So like… when I get horny, I tend to write things like this. ANYWAYS, lemme know what you think! Love you guys! This was sitting in my drafts for ages and finally I decided to finish it! 🩷🩷🩷
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solarmorrigan · 11 months
Text
“Hey.”
Eddie looks up from the inventory sheet he’s bent over (the new shipment of records isn’t going to record itself – Christ, that was awful, Henderson is contagious) to see his coworker Kyle poking his head into the back room.
“Someone left something for you at the counter.”
“Who?” Eddie asks, brows furrowed.
Most everyone in town seems to have let the murder accusations drop (embarrassed enough by their own fanatical reactions that they’d much rather forget the whole thing), but a few people still treat him like a felon walking free; it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.
“Uh, real normie-looking guy. Gives you a ride sometimes.”
Eddie blinks. “Steve?”
“Yeah, sure.” Kyle shrugs. “Says you left it in his car.”
Whatever Eddie is expecting to see when he follows Kyle back out to the front counter of the music shop, a brown bag lunch isn’t it. He most certainly hadn’t left that in Steve’s car this morning.
Steve hadn’t even given him a ride that morning.
But it’s got his name on it, sure enough, in Steve’s weirdly neat handwriting. The asshole even drew a little heart next to it.
Eddie can already feel a smile pulling across his face as he snatches up the bag. Maybe he hadn’t forgotten his lunch in Steve’s car, but he certainly hadn’t brought one in with him. He’d been planning to hit up the McDonald’s down the street if he got desperate, but whatever Steve’s brought him is bound to be better.
“Your girlfriend pack that for you?” Kyle asks.
Eddie lets out a little huff of a laugh, for a minute not quite sure how to answer.
Gender assumptions aside, Eddie doesn’t know what to call this thing with Steve – this thing where they’d started screwing and then they’d started falling asleep together without screwing and then they’d started spending all their free time together and now Steve does things like pack Eddie lunch and bring it to him at work.
“Sorta,” he finally settles on.
“Dude, if she’s making you lunch and writing little hearts next to your name, she’s more than ‘sorta’ your girlfriend,” Kyle says.
“Yeah… Maybe,” Eddie allows, because – well, because maybe.
“Pretty nice of your friend to drive it over, though,” Kyle says. “Pretty sure at least half of my friends would’ve just eaten it.”
“Yeah,” Eddie says again, warm and a little smug, “Steve’s a good dude.”
He digs into the lunch sack and finds an apple sitting on top (of course), a baggie of Keebler fudge cookies (score), and a Tupperware container filled with–
“Oh, fuck yes!” Eddie hugs the precious little tub full of macaroni and cheese to his chest like he’s doing his best Gollum impression. There is nothing in the world better than Steve’s mac and cheese.
It’s still warm.
“I’m taking my break!” Eddie declares, skittering off to the back room before Kyle can argue.
He sits himself down in the employee break area (a crappy folding table, two mismatched chairs, and a microwave so old he’s probably getting radiation poisoning just by sitting next to it) and digs in to the cheesy goodness that is Steve’s cooking.
He’ll eat the apple after, he reasons.
(No he won’t.)
As he eats, his eyes drift back to the crumpled brown bag, to the little heart drawn in bleeding black sharpie, and he thinks.
-
Steve’s house smells like chicken and herbs when Eddie lets himself in early in the evening, and oh, Steve must be in a good mood today.
Eddie feels spoiled.
He finds Steve in the kitchen, wrist-deep in sudsy water as he sways back and forth absently to the tune of the rock station coming from the radio on the windowsill. The room is warm, and something delicious-smelling in a covered pan is simmering on the stove, and the space behind Steve is invitingly empty, just waiting for Eddie to sidle up into it.
Eddie feels so, so spoiled.
Steve doesn’t startle when Eddie slides in behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, but Eddie isn’t really surprised anymore; it seems like Steve can always tell when someone is there.
He does glance over his shoulder, though, just long enough for Eddie to see the smile on his face before he turns back to the dishes. “Hi.”
Eddie’s pretty sure the smile on his own face is softer and infinitely more besotted. “Hi.”
“Good day at work?” Steve asks.
Eddie hums, pressing a kiss to the top of Steve’s shoulder. “You brought me lunch.”
“I’m glad Kyle actually gave it to you,” Steve says. “Wasn’t sure someone else wouldn’t eat it.”
“I got it,” Eddie says, as if there was any doubt with the way he’s still smiling in between trailing little kisses up Steve’s neck.
Steve shuts the water off and dries his hands on the towel hanging off the cupboard door before turning in Eddie’s arms to give him a proper kiss. “It was good?”
Eddie hums again. “You brought me lunch.”
“We’ve established that, yeah,” Steve laughs, allowing Eddie another kiss as he grins.
“You made me lunch,” Eddie says, pecking another kiss to Steve’s lips, still smiling like an idiot. “And you drove it up to the store for me.”
Steve shrugs, a little coy. “It’s my day off. I had time to kill.”
“Kyle says that makes you more than sorta my girlfriend,” Eddie replies, as if that will make any sense at all to Steve.
Whether it makes sense or not, it does make him laugh, and Eddie peppers kisses all over his face while he does.
“So it was good?” Steve asks again, when he’s caught his breath.
“You made me lunch and then you drove it over to me,” Eddie stresses. “It could’ve tasted like ass, and it still would’ve been the best thing ever.”
Steve rolls his eyes, but is more than obliging to the deep kiss Eddie pulls him into after that.
“But just so we’re clear,” Steve says when they break apart, “it didn’t taste like ass, right?”
“Oh my god, no,” Eddie finally relents. “It was literally the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I’m going to marry you so you can make that mac and cheese for me every day.”
“Every day, huh?” There’s a funny little smile climbing back over Steve’s face. “You sure you won’t get sick of it?”
“Nah,” Eddie replies confidently. “Never.”
They’re both smiling a little too much now to really kiss, but they make a good go of it anyway.
[Prompt: Smiling between kisses]
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marriedtobigfoot · 9 months
Text
Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.
So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.
Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.
Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.
He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.
He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.
Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.
And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.
By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.
Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.
"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"
Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.
"I don't mind sharing."
Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.
Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.
"Are you really gay?"
Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.
"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."
It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.
"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"
"It's not weird."
"Okay."
Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.
"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."
"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."
"What do you do when it's not enough?"
"Hmmm?"
"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"
Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.
"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."
"Oh."
Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.
"I don't know how to do any of that."
He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.
"Steve...are you lonely?"
Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.
He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.
He panics a little at the sight.
"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"
"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."
"What do you mean?"
"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."
And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.
Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.
"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.
"I don't know man. I just wish-"
He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.
"What do you wish Steve?"
"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"
It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.
He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.
He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.
Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.
He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.
"Thanks man."
And Eddie takes another leap of faith.
"I could be that person, you know."
"What?"
"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."
Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.
"Just for tonight?"
It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.
"Yeah. For tonight Steve."
"I think...I think I'd like that."
Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.
"Alright sweetheart."
Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.
He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.
He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.
"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."
"Can you tell me about it?"
"Hmmm?"
"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"
And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.
"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"
"The real one."
"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."
Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.
"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"
Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.
"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."
Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.
"That sounds nice."
It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.
*It's only for tonight.*
He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.
But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.
Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.
Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.
But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.
Just for one night.
And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.
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