#I used to talk in multiple languages in high school just for the hell of it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

personwhowrites · 8 months

Text

Unforgettable wedding

Platonic TF 141, Simon Ghost Riley x f!reader (18+)

Wc: 6.1k

Cw: Drinking, fingering,vagial sex, unprotected sex, sex in car, slightly possessive Ghost?Teasing, strong language, No use of y/n

Nicknames given: Princess, Doll, Good girl, Baby

Summary: A high school friend (Rachel) invited you to a wedding, you declared you had a lover but actually didn’t. You asked Soap, Gaz and Price to be your fake boyfriend for the wedding. Price agreed after some talking, but canceled due to an emergency. Leaving you to answer questions and peer pressure from friends. Until.. Ghost shows up, pretending to be your boyfriend. Things go okay, games are played and kisses are shared. When he notices you starting to get drunk, he offers to take you home. Little did you know that ‘ride’ home would change everything that involved him..

A/N: I uh… yeah at the last part my mind went blank and uh, lost idea of what i was writing and it turned into something else.

It was a high school friend who was getting married, you kept in touch with them even if at times they were toxic towards you. They added you to a group called “invitations” announcing their wedding. You didn’t see it till two days later, you were busy on the mission that involved your whole time and attention. No one from your personal life knew what job you did, if anyone asked you would brush them off and change the subject. So it came to surprise you, Rachel had invited you to their wedding and you're just now responding.

You: I’ll see if I can make it, I need to work some stuff out first.

Rachel read your message along with other few close friends from the group. You set your phone down not expecting much as Soap approached you with a grin on his face and a can of pop in his hands.

“Las, you have any plans for the week off?” Soap asked as he took a seat next to you. “I've been thinking about visiting my family.”

“Probably nothing like always, which is fine.” You reply while soap opens the can of pop. “Are you seriously drinking that ten month soda?”

“It's called pop, and matter in fact I am.” Soap relies as he drowns the sugary drink. “You seriously don’t plan to go somewhere?”

You open your mouth to reply but your phone buzzes, which you turn over and look at the notification. It's from the ‘invitations’ group chat, it suddenly became active, you open your phone and look at the messages. Your eyes widen as you read the message to yourself, Soap notice and look over at your screen.

Rachel: That’s fine, you probably don’t even have a plus one, so you save us the food for that! I would appreciate a gift or some flowers if we ever meet up again. Xoxo

Soap tilts his head as you start to type something, someone else in the group chat sends a message. Leaving you to gasp and stopping you from sending another message.

Jason: Yeah it's fine, plus you never have time for the group anymore. Anytime that we plan something you always respond late..

You: Because I have to tend to important matters and don’t have time to be on my phone. Anyways I will come then! I will see you all there and hell I will bring my partner!

You didn’t think of the message you sent, until Soap gasps and looks at you in surprise.

“You have a lover?” Soap now asks as you quickly realize what you just sent. “I never knew that.”

“I.. didn’t either..” You mumble and set your phone down. “Shit.. oh god what did I just do.. Soap be my fake date please you're the only one that knows.”

“No can do, I already have my week planned out with my family.” Soap says before chuckling. “Good luck with that, now if you..” Soap burps and holds his stomach. “I'm going to regret drinking that pop.”

Soap gets up as your phone buzzes again, it's a message from the group chat again. This time it was multiple people typing all now excited you will be tending the wedding that was three days away. You nervously bit your lip and read the messages, everyone excited to meet this lover of yours that didn’t even exist. Rachel soon gave you the details of the location and what type of theme you could wear that is appropriate for her wedding. You thanked Rachel and soon turned your phone off and took a deep breath, now where could you find a single man that would be willing to be your pretend boyfriend.

Three hours passed and you were doing some of your daily duties where you met Gaz in the hall. He was heading to lunch alone and crossed paths with you.

“Hey, are you going to lunch yet?” Gaz asked you with a warm smile making you look up from whatever you were doing. “Price and Ghost are there.,”

“Maybe in a couple more minutes, I gotta finish..” Your reply and sigh before looking at the boxes you were carrying. “..Ah this can wait.. You know what's for lunch?”

“The same crappy food that's for sure.” Gaz chuckles as you start to walk with him. “You look uneasy..did someone say something to you?”

“Uh no..” You mumble and then get an idea. “Would you like to be my fake boyfriend for a wedding?”

Gaz stopped dead in his tracks and stared at you, thinking he misheard. You give him an awkward smile and look away now your face filled with embarrassment. Gaz remains silent, he was trying to process what you just said and making sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him.

“Did I hear you right? You want me to be your fake boyfriend at a wedding?” Gaz murmured now amused by the thought. “You should have asked me earlier before I made some plans for the week.”

“Damn you too?” You say now in some annoyance. “I asked Soap but he said he already made some plans.”

Gaz let out a small laugh before walking again, soon the two of you arrived at the mess hall. Price by then had already gotten your tray with Gaz’s knowing you would join him and Ghost. You sat down and ate, nothing too important was discussed at the table, Gaz and Price were chatting about some rookies, while Ghost leaned back in his chair and listened to them. While also looking around as if he was looking for some trouble he could stop. Gaz soon brought up what you said that made you snap back into reality.

“Wait wait, you asked Gaz to be a fake boyfriend for a wedding?” Price now asked you with an amused look. “And you also asked Soap?”

“Yeah, it's just someone's wedding from highschool.. We are a friend group..” You mumble now embarrassed by all of this. “I said that I would go since their group pointed out that I never hang out with them anymore.”

“How can you? You're working away on missions to keep their perfect lives safe, they should be grateful.” Gaz says, shaking his head for a moment. “Can’t believe people sometimes thinking its easy to be in the special british forces..”

“The thing is that they don’t know what job I have..” You admit to Gaz as he lets out a laugh. “I like to keep my work life out of my personal life.”

Ghost looks at you know, he seems to be somewhat interested in what you said, Price laughs a little as you told them. Gaz on the other hand nodded, he knew what you meant and respected it.

“Wait Price, will you be my fake boyfriend?” You ask him quickly with some hope. “Please?”

“Now I would love to help you out of the mess you're in..” Price says taking a bite out of some burger.”But, I can’t do such a thing, especially something like that.”

“But it won’t be real!” You add quickly, seeming more desperate. “Please I’ll be less reckless on missions.”

“You should always be less reckless on missions.” Price points out before letting a sigh. “But okay.”

You let out a sigh of relief and closed your eyes, your mess now being fixed by your one and only captain. Yet boy were you wrong, on the day of the wedding Price canceled on you and apologized, an emergency had come up and you were left out without a date and the wedding was going to be starting soon. You stood outside the church and groaned softly as you saw the rest of the people arrive for it. One of them being Jason from the group chat, he had a date with him and he looked at you in a polite manner.

“No date? Things sure don’t change even out of highschool.” Jason teases as he walks into the church.

You stare at him for a moment and roll your eyes before entering the church yourself. You felt some people stare at you, it was obvious word got around that you would finally show up to something. You took a seat at the last row of the chairs and remained there for the rest of the wedding, eventually clapping and cheering the bride and groom. In the corner of your eye you saw someone, a dark figure you couldn’t make out, you brush it off as a guest. People started to head to their cars, getting ready to drive to the reception a couple minutes away from the church.

You felt as if someone was watching you, just you. The feeling didn’t wear off as you started to drive to the reception. You felt a car follow you, but the tint on its widows made it impossible to see who was driving. You took a turn into the reception parking lot and parked next to some other people. The car that was following you drove off, making you feel silly for thinking someone was following you.

The reception was beautiful, the place was decorated like any bride would want their reception to be. Yet when you found your name on a table you saw it was at the end of then with an empty chair next to it, you sat down and placed your bag down on the empty seat. Some friends approached you and talked about their lives, one of them made it into the fashion industry and the other was a chef that helped prepare the food for the wedding. Then it came time for you to talk about your job and how your life was.

“Honestly I have a plain life, nothing too important.” You say as attention is on you. “Plus I'm happy you all have successful careers.”

“Yet you never speak about your life, you always keep quiet about it!” One says looking at you with a tense stare. “Are you poor?”

“No..” You say hurt by their comment. “I'm well off of money..Rebbeca..”

“What happened with the partner you had?” Rebbeca asks, pushing you into a tight corner as eyes all on you. “Or what.. Did you lie?”

You opened your mouth to speak but Rachel walked over with a bright smile. All the attention soon turned to her as she opened a chair and sat down with the groom. Showing off her ring and dress, she soon turned her attention to the empty seat.

“Oh my, did your ‘boyfriend’ not show up?” Rachel says now putting shame on you. “You could have told us you didn’t have a lover…we could have used that seat for someone else.”

You stare at her, some anger rising up, but you remain calm. Using all of your energy to not say something that could ruin anything. You cleared your throat and smiled in a polite manner.

“I don’t share anything about my personal life because of my job.” You say brushing your hands against the table. “Being in The special Reconnaissance Regiment is hard to maintain a love life.”

Silence fills the table, no one saw you as some person to work for the army or any job like that. Racheled opened her mouth to speak but Rebbecaa spoke before her.

“You're in the army? I never took you to be one in that type of work” Rebecca mumbles before turning her full attention to you. “Have you.. Killed people?”

“Private information I cannot share for your safety and mine.” You reply feeling some weight for your shoulders to be lifted. “Now I would appreciate it if we just moved on.”

“You always were one to pull twists on us..” Jason spoke and looked at you with a slight grin. “That’s good, honestly I always thought you would join the military but didn’t know what branch..”

You shook his comment off and made sure Rachel had the attention again. It was her wedding after all. The dance soon started for the bride and her parents. You stood by and reached for your bag, maybe thinking its best to leave. You weren’t having fun, and some of your friends wouldn’t leave the topic about your job. Soon someone else walked into the party, they seemed out of place for a moment then their eyes landed on you immediately. Your eyes widened as you saw who it was. Ghost.

He walked past some people who stared at him, he wasn’t wearing his regular ‘creepy’ balaclava but a more normal one. It covered his nose and down. No work uniform was on , but a simple light button up shirt and some pants from a tux, that obviously matched him well. His dirty blonde hair was neatly fixed into a stylish slit back hair style, which you never expected him to have. The tattoos on his forearm were on full display as he finally grabbed your bag and set in on your lap. He took the seat next to you and sigh annoyed..

“Don’t question it..” Ghost mumbled as he leaned back and whispered in your ear. “Be grateful I even considered such a thing..”

“How did you even know where the reception would be held?” You ask as Ghost lets out an annoyed sigh. “I only sent that information to Price..”

“You just answered your own question,” Ghost says bluntly as he looks around. “So much damn white..Jesus I might go blind from it all.”

“You handle flashbangs for a living..” You tease Ghost who immediately gives you a glare. “Sorry, I thought it would be funny.”

“What happens when a strawberry gets run over while crossing the street?” Ghost says leaning closer to you. “Hm?”

“Uh..i don’t know what happens?” You reply slightly amused by this behavior.

“Traffic Jam.” Ghost replies and chuckles to himself. “Another?”

You hold back a laugh, knowing it wasn't funny yet the way his voice makes the joke sound is better. Ghost pulls your chair closer so you can hear his terrible dad jokes better.

“What do you call a pony with a sore throat?” Ghost hums into your ear while you hold a smile back from your lips. “A little hoarse..”

You can’t help it but let a chuckle escape your lips. Ghost soon leans away from you and sits up in the chair. He looks around the party and rubs his eyes slightly showing he is annoyed by all of the lights. You look at Ghost, it was strange seeing him like this. No mask nor face paint made it feel like you walked into another universe. Which at this point you might have now noticed that he was the one that asked Price for the address to see you and help.

“Thanks..” You mumble to him enough to hear. “You really didn’t have to..”

Ghost looks at you, he seems to have something on his mind. His mask moves as he is about to speak, yet the sound of the bride and groom stop him. You turn your attention to the center of the place and listen as the bride is going to cut the cake and food will be served soon.

The rest of the night some of your friends ask you about Ghost but you say nothing. Avoiding their questions and Ghost doing the same, if he did want you to answer a question about him, he would shoot you a glance or nudge your chair. The night went on, Ghost cracked some more ‘jokes’ that made you smile or even get a chuckle out.His arm is soon wrapped around your shoulders. You didn’t mind it and soon rested your head on his arm, things were okay.

“Are you comfortable..”Ghost questions while keeping his eyes away from you. “Aren’t you?”

“I can move away..” You reply and look at him anxiously.

“It's fine..” Ghost replies and looks away from you. “Can’t believe you’re social enough for this kind of stuff.”

“I honestly never come to stuff like this..I'm always lonely.” You murmur as Ghost turns his attention to you.

“Not this time..”Ghost says, sitting up a bit, he places his hand on your face. “You had some sauce on our lips.”

You stare at Ghost as he wipes the sauce away and leaves his thumb on your lips. He's gaze now on your lips, you feel your face heat up. Ghost gently rubs his thumb on your lips then moves it down to your chin, he makes you look slightly up at him. Ghost hazel eyes stare into your own eyes, a thick tension grows. He moved his thumb back onto your lips, gently giving them a brush. Somehow the world around the two of you slowed down, nothing matters anymore..

“..I never noticed.. How beautiful you are up close..” Ghost mumbles as his arm around your shoulders pulls you closer to him. “A sight for my sore eyes..”

Ghost moves his arm away from your shoulders and brings his hand to his mask. A loud sound makes both of you jump and turn away from each other. His hand on your face moving away to his side, the bride had grabbed a microphone and was trying to turn it on.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen! Let's get these games started!” Rachel says with a happy look on her face. “Please bring your chairs and yourself to the center!”

People around you and Ghost started to move themselves and their chairs. You stare at everyone, most of everyone that was at the table left. You then turned your attention back to ghost, who didn’t even seem interested in the game. Rachel noticed you weren’t there and walked over, she grabbed your hand and smiled before speaking.

“Come on! Join us like the good old times!” Rachel says getting people to look over. “Like the good old days, you used to love musical chairs so much as kids.”

You looked around and noticed some people looking over, peer pressure got the best of you and you nodded. Ghost looked at you, there was a hit of worry and annoyance in his eyes. He stood up with you and grabbed your hand, Rachel looked at Ghost, slightly taken back by the sight of him. Rachel soon walked to the center with you and Ghost along with the chairs. It was a regular game of musical chairs, no rules except no harming each other badly. You placed your chair down in the circle, soon the music started and everyone started to move around in a circle. Ghost didn’t even know why on earth he decided to join such a ‘childish game.’ The music stopped and chaos broke, you sat down quickly in a chair as Ghost and a couple others did the same, while two people fought for a chair. One finally sat down and soon the game continued..

Ghost got out the twelve round, he didn’t like walking and too many eyes were on him. He took his chair back to the table and watched as you went against eight people. The number lowered quickly to the point it was only you and some other girl left. Both of you were focused, none wanted to lose or make a fool out of yourselves. The Dj speed up the music and you started to feel your body tense, the music stopped, without a thought you kicked the chair away and the girl fell down before she could sit down. People started to laugh and you picked up the knocked down chair, Ghost slightly was somewhat amused by the sight. The other girl tried to snatch the chair out of your hands but it was all a fail as your grip was strong.

You spun around the girl and placed the chair down, the girl did the same thing as you. She kicks the chair down and you let out an annoyed groan. She grabs the chair with a wide grin and sets the chair down. This could all be over if it wasn't for your need to win no matter what. You kicked the chair down quickly, almost hitting the other girl. She gasped as if in the blink of an eye you picked the chair up and ran to the center sitting down in it.

People cheered and Ghost looked at you with amusement, You soon walked back with the chair and smiled happily. Ghost shook his head trying to shake the look of amusement off, you hugged him without thinking…He hugs you back, a tight embrace happens as the two of you hug each other. You notice your mistake and pull away immediately.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry..I was just so excited..” You say quickly as Ghost pulls you back into a hug. “Ghost?”

Ghost closes his eyes and keeps holding you close, you could swear his breathing get heavier as he held you closer. His cologne filling your nose, Ghost held you close for a period of time. You soon embraced him as well and kept hugging him.

“..Never let go..” Ghost mumbles in your ear, his voice slightly breaking. “Please..”

‘Please’ that word sounded so heartbreaking out of his lips. You just nodded and he let go of you, that was the first time Ghost has ever done that with you. He sat down and pretended like nothing happened and he expected you to do the same.

The rest of the games continued, you would join but not most of them since your feet were tired. Ghost kept you close to him, awfully close. If any of your guy friends approached the two of you, his grip would become tighter on you. The games went on for another hour, soon the bride Rachel announced she would be throwing her bouquet soon.

“You’d think that..You could get the bouquet as well?” Ghost asks, looking at you, before looking at some girls in the center. “If you stand in the back the odds of you getting it are twenty out of hundred.”

“I don’t like the whole bouquet stuff, Rachel would make the girl kiss their partner if they got it.” You reply looking over to the other females. “Plus, I think I won enough games already.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to just have a good time.” Ghost adds looking at you now which you don’t notice. “Who knows if we'll ever be alive to see another wedding..”

You think for a moment then nod, standing up from your seat you walk over to the back. The bride calls out more females to the floor making sure it's even for all the females. The groom gets a chair and Rachel gets on it, she turns her back to the others on the dance floor, people start counting down for her to throw the bouquet. Rachel throws it a three and it hits a fan on the ceiling, which bounces the bouquet and it hits you right in the face. People laugh and cheer as you now hold the bouquet, Ghost eyes widen as he didn’t even expect that himself to happen out of all the possibilities.

“Kiss your partner now!” Rachel says with a smile as she walks over and drags you to Ghost. “Kiss kiss!”

“Rachel, please no lets just move on to the res–” You try to say, but Ghost grabs your waist turning you to him. “Wai–”

Ghost takes his mask down and plants a sloppy kiss on your lips. He holds your hips, making sure he can hold you correctly. You lean into the kiss and start to close your eyes. It seemed like Ghost wanted to do it for a long time. Ghost breaks the kiss and pulls his mask back and places his hand on your face. He gives you a wink before creasing your cheek with his thumb. Rachel soon walks away leaving you to stare at Ghost in shock.

“I can’t be arsed to care about what you’re thinking..” Ghost mumbles before taking his seat again. “It's all pretend.”

You look at him still in shock and turn away, soon enough you found yourself drinking some fine wine being offered around. Ghost on the other hand remained sober, unwilling to talk to any other female that approached him. His eyes on you as you chugged down wine, there was a time he got worried as people cheered you on to keep drinking. You knew how to handle your liquor, but Ghost didn’t know that. You look at Ghost and give him a drunken smile, yet his eyes narrow seeing that you're drunk down.

“That’s enough drinking now.” Ghost mumbles taking the glass of wine out of your hand. “Do you hear me?”

“I'm fine, Ghost. I can't get drunk so easily with wine.” You say looking at him hoping he would give back the wine glass. “Can I have it back?”

“No, that's enough wine for you today..” Ghost says and sets your glass on the table. “If you keep drinking or try to drink again I will get up and leave.”

You stare at Ghost and soon take your own seat, You lean against his arm and sigh. Maybe you had been drinking too much, maybe the wine was too much for you. Ghost turned his attention to you, pulled you closer to him, almost as if he wanted you on his lap. You nuzzled your face against his arm and closed your eyes, you were starting to blackout..

“You okay..?” Ghost asked with high concred in his voice. “You need to head home?”

“Probably..” You mumble before looking at him. “I might have drank too much today..”

Ghost sighs and helps you stand up, he grabs your bag and starts to walk out with you. Rachel noticed and walked over with the groom, they called out for you and Ghost. He hesitated to stop but did since they were your friends. Rachel and her husband Aaron look at you and then at Ghost.

“You two leaving?” Rachel asks slightly hurt by this. “It's only twelve in the morning”

“She had too much to drink and wanted to go home.” Ghost says looking at Rachel, slight haterade he didn’t like her at all. “If you care about her, you wouldn’t have to come and question why she is leaving early.”

“Easy now, we don’t need an aggressive tone here.” Aaron speaks up trying to make things settle. “We are in the wrong for cheering them on..”

Ghost starts to walk away with you, he makes sure you can lean on him as you two walk. He knew where your car was parked, the exact spot without even checking. You looked at Ghost a little concerned as to how he knew where your car was parked. He takes the keys out of your bag and looks at you.

“I'll drive you home then get an uber back here to drive my own car.” Ghost says and opens the passenger door. “Come on..”

You stare at him for a moment and get in your own car. Ghost closes the door and walks to the other side, he opens the door to the driver side, he sits down then adjusts the seat. Ghost looks over at you for a moment and pulls his mask off completely. Then grabs your head gently with the palm of his hand on the back of your head. He leans in and kisses you, the kiss was less sloppy than before. Ghost gently grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls you closer, he can’t get enough of your lips.

Ghost moves his other hand to your neck, you look at him as he leans in for another kiss. Your lips crash against his, he groans in the kiss. The hand on your neck gives you a gentle squeeze. Ghost hand on your hair moves to your back, he bushes the straps of your dress and looks at you with desire.

“Are you okay with this doll?” Ghost asks, looking at you. “Do you like me kissing you?”

Ghost looks at you and smiles, it is odd but yet comforting. You meet in his gaze and place your hands on his cheeks.The palm of your hands brush against his stubble, he leans close to you. Another kiss is shared between the two of you, Ghost wraps his arm around your waist. Pulling you closer to him, he lets go of your neck, placing his hand on your thigh, rubbing gentle circles on your skin. Without a thought he kisses your neck as you let go of his face, you toge on his shirt and bite your lip.

“Use your words..” Ghost says giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Come on..”

“I want this Ghost..” You reply as he places his hand on your chin. “Don’t.. Make me beg..”

“You’re drunk.. If you were sober maybe I would go further with you princess..” Ghost mumbled before turning his attention to the steering wheel. “Let’s get you home.”

You stare at Ghost feeling disappointed, but understand that he wanted to keep his desires in check. Ghost pulled out of the parking lot and headed into the road, once in a while he would look over at your body. How it bounced to each bump on the road, his desires and mind started to wonder as the straps on your dress slid off your shoulders. Ghost stops the car by a park nearby and turns the car off, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He turns his attention to you and your neck. Pulling you close, Ghost leans his face to your neck..

“You drive me crazy, a crazy I can't hide anymore…” Ghost murmurs before kissing your neck. “Do you want this doll? Do you want me to take you here and now..?”

You let out a soft moan and nod, Ghost wastes no time helping you get on his lap, he leans the seat back. You hear him undo his buckle of his pants, he was wasting no time to take you. To give you the pleasure you two desire in such close space. You kiss Ghost and watch as he moves his hand to your inner thighs, he gives them a gentle squeeze. He slides his fingers against your clit, shivers go down your spine.

“Look at you.. Already wet, partially dripping onto my fingers.” Ghost teases and rubs circles on your clit. “Think you can take me baby? Think you can take me like the good girl you are..”

A whimper escapes your mouth and you look down at Ghost. Who’s admiring the faces you make to his touch, the sweet sounds you give him. Ghost soon removes his hand away from your pussy and licks his finger, you blush to his action.

“Why would you do that..” You mumble in slight embarrassment. “Gh–”

“It's Simon to you princess..” Ghost says inserting two fingers into your pussy without a warning.

You arch your back and let out a loud moan, he didn’t give you any warning. Slowly he fingered you, enjoying watching you come undone to just his fingers. Ghost moved at a slow pace, wanting to savor every second of your reaction. Your hips soon started to move on their own, your body wanting more of his finger. Ghost pulls them out and looks at you while you let out a small whimper. Ghost chuckles and moves his throbbing cock close to your pussy.

“Patience, pretty girl. Patience..” Ghost mumbles and looks at you. “You think that you can handle it?”

You give an quick nod and try to place your body on his cock, but Ghost stops you and rubs your hips. He knew you wanted as much as he did, but he wanted to make sure you could take him. Ghost brushed his hands on your hips and bit his lip, he wanted to just ruin you and keep you close to him.

“Gh–Simon.. Please..” You beg now looking down at him. “Please.. I can’t keep waiting..”

You start to beg him, he loves the sight of you begging, the sound of your whimpers wanting your own hips to be placed on his. Ghost without warning drops your body on to his cock, he lets out a satisfied groan as you let out a small cry. You have taken every single inch of him, Ghost rubs your hips again letting you adjust to him. Some tears escape your eyes and you hold onto the handle off the door. Ghost shifts on the car seat and lets out a groan as take more of him in.

“Bloody hell..you're so perfect.. So bloody perfect for me..” Ghost moans out and closes his eyes. “Perfectly made for me baby..” He pauses for a moment and digs his fingers on the side of your hips. “Think you can move a baby girl, think you can move this beautiful body of yours?”

You give him a gentle nod and slowly bounce on his cock. Ghost groans as he squeezes his eyes shut, he lets go of your hips and places his hands on your thighs. Giving them a good squeeze, you can’t help but moan his name as your hips move.

“That’s it princess that's it..” Ghost murmurs while giving your thighs another squeeze. “ Use my cock to satisfy this pussy of yours.”

Ghost was completely pussy drunk, mumbling things as you bounced on his cock. Ghost opened his eyes soon enough to catch a glimpse of your face, how you particularly looked at him. Ghost moves his hands back to your waist, he adjusts himself and thrust into you. You let out a moan, Ghost started to move himself as you arched your back trembling as you were on your high with him, Your eyes rolled back and your moans were music to his ears.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me..”Ghost says, thrusting his cock recklessly into you. “That’s it, love.. Bloody hell..that's it clinching that pussy around my cock.”

Without another word you moan loudly and let your body fall on him, You had reached your orgasm. Ghost wasn't so far behind, he pulled out and came on your ass, he groaned and soon wrapped his arms around you. He took steady breaths and brushed his hand on your hair. Gently patting your back with his other hand.

“You did so good for me doll.. So good..” Ghost murmurs into your ear and holds you close. “Breath..”

“I.. love you..” You reply without thinking. “I really..love you..”

Ghost looked at you and then sigh softly before kissing your head. He holds you close but says nothing. The both of you stay like that for a couple minutes, crickets and sounds of nature lay on your ears as finally Ghost speaks.

“I love you too..” Ghost mumbles creasing your face, before kissing your cheek. “We still need to get you home.”

You nodded and lifted yourself off of Ghost. You sat back in the passenger seat and watched as Ghost buckled his pants up again, you in the meantime fixed your panties. He started the car and got out of the parking lot of the park. Ghost glanced over at you while he drove. Things were definitely never gonna be the same between him and you, Ghost knew that like you did. He placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. You looked at Ghost, as he drove your car, the car you had your first time with Ghost, so many thoughts and so many questions but what did that matter now? This wedding was definitely going to be an unforgettable one.

517 notes · View notes

morningberriesao3 · 9 months

Text

Dirty Words

Steve Harrington X Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve gives Eddie a lesson on dirty talk, but things start to get carried away.

Word Count: 10.2K

Chapters: 1 of 1

Content Warning: Explicit m/m sexual content including dirty talk, masturbation, hand jobs, spit and cum as lube, allusions to anal sex, scent kink, spit kink, multiple orgasms, and oral sex. Excessive swearing. Recreational drug use and drinking. This post includes explicit sexual content, foul language, and sensitive themes. It is intended for those 18 and older ONLY. I am not responsible for the media you consume.

Disclaimer: All characters in my fics engaging in sexual acts are—and always will be—18 or older, even if not explicitly stated.

DIRTY WORDS

Eddie is feeling all floaty and shit. The weed Argyle gave him really is better than the skunkweed he’s been peddling in alleyways since he was sixteen years old. Not that he’ll ever admit to it. Definitely a fact he’ll take to his grave.

But for now, Eddie has the weekend off from his new, lousy day job that Steve and (mostly) Robin managed to bag him at Family Video. To be honest, it had been a last resort. But turns out, business is shit after he fucking finally graduated high school. And now—cherry on top!—he’ll have to figure out how to file taxes and shit. Welcome to the corporate world.

With a sigh, Eddie takes another drag from the perfectly rolled joint that he made himself. Argyle can’t top him on that, at least.

Eddie giggles to himself. Top him. Shit, Argyle could top him if he really wanted to, considering how fucking pent up—

The phone rings, making Eddie jump a good six inches from the sunken couch cushion he’s lounging on. He scrambles to a sitting position, and then lifts himself onto his legs that only slightly wobble like a newborn giraffe underneath him. He runs to the yellowing, plastic phone that’s hung up on his uncle’s trailer’s wall, hoping that maybe it’s the guy Eddie’s been fooling around with on the other end of the line. Maybe he could try the whole phone sex thing. Again. And not fuck it up this time.

“Hello?”

“Eddie?” Steve asks, voice all staticky through the speakers. “Why does it sound like you just ran a marathon, dude?”

Eddie realises he’s panting. He’s not sure if it’s from the short dash to the telephone, or if it’s because his blood was rushing to his cock for a minute there instead of his lungs.

Either way, he should probably consider going for a jog once in a while or something. It’s kind of sad that he’s winded.

“Shut up, man,” he says. “Maybe I was running a marathon. You’d never know.”

“I do know. It’ll be a cold day in Hell when you decide to exercise willingly. The sun will be rising in the West. The sky will be green and the grass will be blue when Eddie Munson runs a marathon.”

“You forgot when pigs fly.” Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He nearly drops the phone that’s wedged between his ear and his shoulder. “Did you call to talk about my general lack of fitness, or is there another reason you called, Harrington?”

“I’m bored,” Steve whines. The phone line crackles. Eddie can only assume Steve is, like, laying in bed or something.

Laying in bed, in those navy blue sheets. Shirtless. Maybe fresh out of the shower. A little wet still, his hair sticking up around his head—

No. Nope.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will away the next image (a towel slipping away from Steve’s hips), because three months ago he made a rule for himself. No more fantasising about Steve goddamn Harrington.

It had been becoming nearly impossible to look the other man in the eye after some of the things Eddie imagined doing with him.

Steve continues on, completely unaware of Eddie’s wandering mind. “Robin is working tonight and tomorrow so she can’t hang.”

“Glad to know I’m your second choice,” Eddie teases.

“No! No, I would have called you either way.”

“Sure you would have.”

Eddie smiles to himself. He’s not actually miffed. He and Steve have become way closer than he would have ever imagined possible. It started when Robin would ask him to hang out, and then she’d invite him along with her and Steve, and then somehow he and Steve just started hanging out alone. And it wasn’t even all that awkward.

Turns out Eddie is cooler than Steve thought, and Steve is more of a loser than Eddie thought.

“Eddie,” Steve groans. And Eddie tries not to be perverted about how good it sounds. “Come on, dude. Let’s hang out.”

“Can’t, man,” Eddie says. “I’m busy.”

“What? No you’re not. It’s nine at night and you’re at home. I also know Wayne works a double, so he won’t be back until tomorrow night.”

“It’s weird that you know my uncle’s schedule.”

“No it’s not; he works the same shifts every week. Point is, I know you’re alone. Unless you have other friends that I don’t know about?”

“I do have other friends!” (Not really. Just a guy Eddie’s made out with a couple times in the city, and the members of Corroded Coffin who’re away for the summer.)

“Oh.” Steve goes quiet for a moment, and Eddie feels like he won. But then, “Well, are they over right now?”

“No, but—”

“Then you’re not busy! I can bring movies. I have Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Wildcats—”

“What makes you think I want to watch a sports movie?”

“And Labyrinth.”

Eddie’s jaw clenches. Shit, he loves David Bowie, and he hasn’t been able to get his hands on a copy yet. But he also knows Steve won’t just return the movie before Eddie has the chance to see it, because Steve isn’t mean like that. Not like Eddie is.

“I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Getting high and being alone!” And jerking off for the next hour and a half to see how many times he can make himself come before it becomes unbearable.

Eddie doesn’t add that last point, for obvious reasons.

“I like getting high. Please, Eddie? I’m so bored. And my house is empty and quiet, and you know how I get nightmares when—”

“Okay! Okay, oh my god, fine. You’re so whiny.” Eddie had no idea Steve was such a beggar. He kind of likes it. “But you have to bring beer as payment. Afterhours fee.”

“Yes,” Steve says, sounding like he’s doing something dorky like punching the air. “Beer it is. See you soon.”

“Hey, Harrington, can you give me, like—” half an hour, Eddie wants to say. But the line goes dead.

He wonders if he can manage to pump one out before Steve gets to the trailer. And the thing is, his dick is harder than he’d like to admit after hearing Steve’s voice. So he’s going to try.

Eddie runs to his room, pulls down his flannel pants so the elastic sits taut under his balls. He doesn’t bother laying in his bed; he just sits on the edge of it, facing his mirror, watching as he fists his own cock and gives it a few tugs. It’s not a narcissism thing, Eddie just likes the visual. Likes to imagine it’s someone else’s hand, or someone else’s cock. Likes to see the tip of it, shiny and red, as his foreskin pulls down his shaft to expose it.

He wonders if Steve is cut or not.

Fuck—no. No, no, no.

Eddie shouldn’t be thinking about Steve, he should be thinking about the guy from the bar. About how hard his dick had been, pressing into Eddie’s hip as they made out against the wall in the alleyway.

Yeah. Yeah, okay, that’s doing something…

Eddie watches as his hand pumps over his cock, watches as it starts to strain, the veins popping from the skin as he builds himself up. He squeezes hard around the crown. It only gives a little under the pressure, considering how hard he is, but it makes his dick offer up a pearl of precum that he gathers and spreads around the slit. When he lifts his thumb away, a sticky string connects his hand between his legs.

He likes the way that looks. He likes when things start to get messy. He wonders if he’ll ever get to see the guy from the bar’s cock like this, if he also likes to play with cum and spit.

If Steve ever plays with cum and spit when he’s on his own, like Eddie does. He wonders how Steve touches himself, what he likes, what he doesn’t like, what sounds he makes, what face he makes…

Oh fuck, oh fuck. Yeah, that’s fucking good.

Okay. Okay it’s fine, Eddie will just think about Steve one more time, and then he’ll for sure stop doing it. Just this one more time…

A jolt travels from Eddie’s cock into the tight muscles of his stomach as he imagines Steve’s face all twisted up in pleasure. Those strong thighs bracketing Eddie’s head as he sucks back little dribbles of salty white that leak out of Steve. His nose brushing against a mound of dark hair that Eddie just knows would grow thick around the base of Steve’s cock; little curls that smell like honey and almond soap, because Steve uses the expensive shit.

Jesus Christ. What he wouldn’t give to go down on Steve, just once. Just one time.

Eddie’s mouth waters as his hand flies harder, faster. He’s so fucking close. Just a quick, dirty orgasm before Steve comes over. Steve. Fuck, yes, Steve—

There’s a loud knock on Eddie’s front door.

No! Shitshitshit. He just needs two more minutes. Maybe not even that, just one—

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is muffled beyond the walls of the trailer. Eddie almost considers letting him wait outside while he finishes up, but he can hear Steve’s footsteps getting closer to his bedroom window.

A rock hits the glass and shocks Eddie enough that it sets him back. Now it would definitely take the full two minutes.

“Shit! Goddamn fucking Harrington—” Eddie stands from the mattress and releases his cock from the death grip he had on it. It bobs between his legs, so fucking stiff that there’s no way it’s going away on its own anytime soon. “One sec!”

Eddie has no choice but to tuck his cock into the waistband of his pants. The tip pokes up under his navel, like it’s staring angrily at him for not finishing the job he started. It’s throbbing, and leaking, and getting the fabric it’s tucked into all damp.

“Same,” he mumbles to his dick as he grabs a longer t-shirt and pulls it over his head.

Another rock smacks against his window.

“Coming!” Well, he was about to anyway.

He doesn’t jog to greet Steve, because he doesn’t want to risk his dick slipping from its hiding spot. That is a conversation Eddie wants to avoid.

When he opens the front door, Steve has another rock in his hand, aimed towards Eddie’s window.

“You better not throw that, Harrington.”

Steve’s head whips around. His eyes are full of mischief, a small smile on his lips. His hair is freshly washed and styled, just like Eddie suspected. And his outfit is positively sinful (if you’re horny like Eddie is). Grey sweatpants and a plain white tee, which Eddie thinks is the guy version of lingerie.

Totally unfair, especially when Eddie would just like if his dick would go soft again.

“Why did you take so long, dude? Your trailer park is scary in the dark.”

Eddie gawks at Steve. “You’ve literally fought monsters and a dark wizard in an alternate dimension, and you think my trailer park is scary?”

“Yeah.” Steve points over his shoulder to a mobile home down the lane. “There was an old dude watching me from his window.”

“Mr. Jackson?” Eddie tilts his head, sees the curtains ruffling as his neighbour draws them back. “He’s… mostly harmless. I think.”

“You think?” Steve flings up Eddie’s steps and quickly locks the door behind him.

“Totally. I mean, besides the shotgun he keeps next to his couch. But that’s reserved exclusively for handsome young men that come around the trailer park after nine PM.” Eddie checks his watch, gasps in mock fear, widens his eyes, and peers out of the window behind Steve’s head. “That means you’re not safe! I think—I think I hear him loading the gun!”

Steve grabs Eddie’s arm, just for a second, as he cranes his head to look out the window. When Eddie’s sarcasm finally sinks in, he lets go and punches him (a little too hard) where his hand had been. “You’re such a dick.”

“I think that was kind of a compliment,” Eddie says, rubbing at the place where he would surely bruise. “I did say you were handsome.”

Steve flops down on Eddie’s couch and tosses a bag full of VHS tapes and a six pack onto the ground by his feet. He leans back, like he’s making a point, flourishing his hand over the length of his body with the most disgustingly sexy lazy smile on his face. “Yeah, well, that’s common knowledge.”

Jesus.

Eddie looks down to make sure his cock is still out of sight. He can feel it pulse between his legs as he hears Steve’s voice, sees how he stretches on the sofa. But thank God, he’s still tucked away and Steve should be none the wiser.

He takes his place next to Steve—makes sure his shirt drapes loose enough around him that it hides how hard he is.

He wonders if blue balls are a real thing. Will Eddie have severe health defects if he doesn’t come? Will his boner go away on its own?

Questions that he’ll find out sooner or later, he supposes.

“Little full of yourself, are you, Harrington?”

Steve sighs. “Not at all. It’s actually hard work being this gorgeous. You would know.”

Eddie feels his cocky expression fall from his face.

Did Steve just call him gorgeous? Or did Eddie totally misinterpret his words? He blushes and figures it’s better to be safe than be sorry. “Sure,” is all he replies with.

“So,” Steve says casually, “where’s this weed I’ve been hearing so much about?”

Eddie smiles, big and sweet, and points towards his bedroom where he left the joint to fizzle out in an ashtray before he molested himself. “Be a dear and go grab it from my nightstand?”

The truth is, Eddie’s pretty sure the tip of his dick slipped from under the elastic of his pants when he sat down. Miraculously, he thinks it’s starting to deflate by the teensiest fraction, but it would still basically slap Harrington in the face if he tried to stand.

Which—good thing or bad thing? Eddie isn’t sure. That would all have to do with Steve’s reaction. But he’s not willing to find out.

Steve rolls his eyes but gets up like a good little boy to fetch the ashtray. He brings it and the lighter to the coffee table where Eddie had been smoking before.

Fifteen minutes later, Eddie is back in his floaty state with a beer between his legs instead of a hard on. Turns out, stiffies don’t actually last forever if you don’t let yourself come. It’s just very, very frustrating.

“You up for another beer?” Steve asks slowly, reaching into the bag to grab two bottles. His eyes are glazed and blown, and Eddie thinks he looks totally fucked up already. It’s hilarious.

“Yeah, I’m down.”

Steve hands Eddie a new PBR, and his eyes do this little flare thing that makes him look adorable. “Woah.”

“Woah what?” Eddie asks, popping the cap and replacing his empty bottle with the new one.

“Being up for something and being down for something mean the same thing, even though they’re the opposites. I just realised that.”

Eddie smiles against the lip of the bottle, feeling the glass clink against his teeth. “Shit, man, you’re so high.”

“Am not.” Steve honest to God giggles as he makes eye contact with Eddie. “Okay. Maybe a little.”

“I’m glad you came over, Harrington,” says Eddie after a beat. “Better than another night alone.”

Steve opens his mouth, like he’s about to say something, but he’s cut off by the sound of the telephone ringing.

Both men turn their heads to stare at the wall phone, but Eddie doesn’t make a move to stand up to actually answer.

Because, for some reason, his mind is suddenly going a million miles a minute.

He knows it’s not his uncle calling in the middle of work, and he knows it’s obviously not Steve. The chances that it’s Robin are slim to none because her shift doesn’t end for another half hour. Gareth and Jeff are away with their respective families.

So the most logical answer to who’s calling after dark, would be the guy from the bar.

And the thing is, Eddie doesn’t want to raise questions. Isn’t sure if he’s capable of thinking of a good enough excuse as to who it was or why he’s calling. Yeah, he could probably have at least answered and told Bar-Guy to call back tomorrow, that he has company, but his brain isn’t thinking fast enough. So he just kind of… stares at the phone as it rings.

“I’ll get it,” Steve says after a few seconds, and suddenly he’s standing from the couch and reaching for the telephone—

“No!” Eddie pounces, because that’s even worse than if Eddie just answers the damn phone himself. He flounders towards Steve, grabbing the outstretched hand, stopping it from curling around the phone. “Stop! Stop—just let it ring!”

Steve gawks at him, but holds his hands in surrender in front of his chest.

The phone rings one more time, and then the kitchenette goes quiet.

Eddie heaves a sigh of relief, even though he probably just made more questions arise than he avoided by not picking up.

“What—what was that about?”

“Nothing,” Eddie huffs, dragging his feet back to the couch.

Steve follows closely behind. Just as Eddie flops onto the cushions, Steve is on top of him, tickling the shit out of Eddie’s arms, his sides, his stomach.

Eddie was not expecting anything like this—Steve’s hands all over him, his leg slung over Eddie’s to hold him down, the smell of Steve’s breath hitting his face. It’s not a bad smell, like freshly brushed teeth and beer and weed, and it’s warm, because their faces are so close together.

All Eddie can to is half-shriek-half-laugh, even as his mind muddles with confusion (and lust. Obviously).

“Tell me!” Steve commands, digging his fingers into Eddie’s neck, down his back, dangerously close to his thighs…

The boner that he just got rid of starts to fill out once more.

“Stop, dude!” Any sense of authority is lost under Eddie’s laughter that he can’t control. “No! Stop!”

“Come on, Munson. Spill the beans.”

Eddie tries flipping onto his stomach, but Steve follows him, blanketing over his back. The panes of his chest press behind Eddie, hard and warm, crowding him against the pillows. And there’s also friction.

Friction that could easily become a problem if Steve keeps goddamn moving against Eddie, making his hips rub against the couch—

“Okay! Uncle. Uncle!”

Eddie keeps panting face-down as Steve lifts himself away from his back.

“So?” Steve asks with a smile in his voice, triumphant from his win. An unhonourable win, as far as Eddie is concerned. Tickle torture is a serious offense. “What’s up your ass?”

Eddie snorts as he sits up, casually grabbing one of the throw cushions to hold against his lap.

Nothing, he wants to say. That’s the problem.

Instead, he just kind of adverts his gaze and goes for the truth.

“I’ve—kind of—been talking to…” this guy.

It’s not like Eddie has been hiding his sexuality from Steve, per se, but other dudes are way less accepting than girls about it. His first official ‘coming out’ had been to Robin (an obvious choice after she told him she’s a lesbian), and then to Nancy.

Apparently, Steve had been really cool when Robin told him she likes girls. But this is a different situation. Steve might be afraid that Eddie will, like, come on to him or something. Which… fair enough. Eddie probably would.

So, instead of finishing with the whole truth, he dampens it down a bit, and says, “Someone.”

“Oh. Shit.” Steve’s eyes do this thing where they drop to the floor, and then shoot sideways to Eddie, his eyebrows crumpled like a cartoon above his nose. He grabs the blunt, takes a deep drag. “That’s good though, right?”

Eddie shrugs. “Sure.”

“Sweet. So what’s the issue?”

All of it. Everything.

Because said guy lives all the way in Indianapolis—two hours away—and the only chance they have to communicate is through phone. Which, by proxy, means that the only times they can actually meet up is after a phone conversation.

Not to mention the fact that they aren’t, like, official—that they just made out a few times. Once outside of the bar, and a couple times in the back of Eddie’s van, which left him achingly hard when they parted ways.

This circles back to point number one about the phone conversations. They’re awkward. They don’t know each other well, don’t know what to talk about. Things don’t just flow naturally. Not like they do with—oh, say—Steve.

Maybe the worst part is that Eddie is a twenty-one-year-old man with raging hormones that—as much as he wishes otherwise—he cannot control. His self-discipline is basically nil. Nada. Zero. He’s fucking horny all the time.

So how is he supposed to deal with long-distance plus rare phone calls?!

Bingo. Yep. Phone sex. It’s the obvious answer, is it not?

So Eddie, like, tried.

And he thought it started well!

What are you wearing? Is that not fucking obvious where Eddie was headed? Is that not the exact line that they use in movies and shit? That’s what he said—What are you wearing?—and then he shoved his hand down his pants and waited for Bar-Guy to get into it, start saying something filthy into the speaker that would get Eddie going.

Maybe like… ‘Nothing at all,’ or, ‘tight boxers that show off my cock,’ or—fuck—'a towel slung low on my hips’. Something like that!

But all Eddie got was, “Uh—sweatshirt. Jeans. Why are you breathing hard?”

And then Eddie had said, “Just thinking about you,” with his low and gravelly voice, to help keep the conversation moving (again, he thinks this is pretty obvious and, like, at least a bit sexy).

Here’s the real kicker. The dude then said, “Are you… touching yourself?”

And it was not a sexy question. He sounded completely weirded out! Horrified! Disgusted!

So Eddie pulled his hand out of his pants and basically yelled, “No!”

Deny deny deny. Eddie is good at that shit.

The conversation had gone on to other things. Dinner plans, or something. Eddie didn’t really care. All he could think about was that this guy probably didn’t want to fuck him. They’d had the opportunity before, and it never progressed. And the thought of Eddie even fisting his own cock all but repulsed him.

Such a damn shame. Because Eddie is so desperate, so pent up, so sick of fucking his own hand, that he’s literally about to drill a hole in one of Uncle Wayne’s oranges and go to town until there’s nothing left but pulp.

Eddie doesn’t tell Steve any of this. He just groans really loud and buries his face in his hands, and says, “I don’t know!”

“C’mon, man. Something’s up. Out with it.” Steve waves his hand in encouragement, vaguely gesturing to the empty trailer and himself. “Safe space.”

Eddie peeks through his fingers at Steve, and he just looks so… genuinely curious. Like he actually wants to help, or at least hear, Eddie’s problems.

“Okay, fine.” Eddie snatches the joint from between Steve’s fingers and sucks it back like it’s water, keeping his gaze from Steve’s (beautiful) hazel eyes. “It’s just that I… I kind of made it awkward. Last time we talked on the phone. I tried to initiate… uh”—he clears his throat—“phone sex.”

Steve’s eyes go wide, his forehead crinkling with surprise. His lips are shiny and pink. But that second part doesn’t have anything to do with Steve’s expression—Eddie just happened to notice them.

“Fuck,” Steve says, leaning forward to set his bottle on the table in front of them. “Yeah. I’ve been there before, man. What happened?”

“What do you mean, what happened?”

“I don’t know. What did you say? I assume it didn’t go well considering how you’re all… tense and shit.”

“Tense and shit.” Eddie laughs once, then mumbles, “You have no idea.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Steve encourages.

“It’s not! I started with the classic, what are you wearing?” Eddie drops an octave, making fun of his attempt to sound hot. “And then I got an actual play by play of what they were wearing.”

Steve sits back and thinks about it for a minute—his legs splayed, and his arms crossed over his chest. “I think the issue with that is… it’s obvious, but it’s not sexy.”

“How is it not sexy, dude?” Eddie asks, exasperated. “It’s literally a steppingstone into, like, a form of sex!”

“Yeah, sure, but it doesn’t get you hot. You know?”

“No, Steve, I don’t know. Because I’m always hot. Someone could bend to tie their shoes and I’d fucking cream my pants.”

Steve hiccups a startled laugh. “Fuck. Me too. It’s been forever.”

“I don’t think it’s natural for a guy to go this long, man.” Eddie swigs back the rest of his beer and cracks a third. Lights up a new joint, too. And honestly, regardless of his tolerance, he’s pretty fucked up.

“Do you know how many chicks I’ve gone out with? None of my dates have even led to hands stuff. It at least sounds like you’re close to sealing he deal.” Steve lolls his head towards Eddie with a cheeky little smile on his lips. “I mean, if you didn’t suck at talking dirty.”

“I do not suck!” Eddie cries, grabbing the throw cushion from his lap to smack it against Steve’s smug face.

Steve catches the pillow and rips it playfully away from Eddie’s grip. “Then show me.”

Eddie stares at Steve for way too long. He narrows his eyes after a few seconds. “You’re kidding me.”

“Not kidding. I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re doing wrong.” Steve leans forward, plucks the joint right out of Eddie’s slack lips. “Just pretend I’m on the other end of the line.”

“No way, dude.”

Steve curls his hand up to look like a telephone, pretends to dial in a number. Brings it up to his ear. “Riiiinngg. Riiiinngg. C’mon, Eds, you’re getting a sexy phone call. Pick up. Riiinngg.”

Eddie feels his face flush red. He’s not sure if it’s from where this conversation is headed, or out of sheer embarrassment for Steve’s sake. “Holy fuck. You’re such a loser, Harrington.”

“I’ll just pretend you already answered and said hello. Hey, Eds. It’s… wait, what’s this guy’s name?”

Eddie opens his mouth. Then closes it again, because Steve just said guy. Not girl. Guy. Is this a slip of the tongue? Or did Buckley out Eddie to Steve? Or Nancy?

No, neither of them would do that. Maybe Steve just figured it out from context clues.

But still, to be sure, Eddie just says, “What?”

“What’s his name?” Steve askes again.

So—shit—it definitely wasn’t a slip of the tongue. But Steve isn’t freaking out. Hasn’t freaked out in the past. And he’s looking at Eddie expectantly, but not judgy or anything.

Eddie clears his throat. “Nick.”

“Nick! Strong name. Not as strong as Steve, but not everyone can be a Steve—”

“Come on, man!” Eddie groans. Again. Hides his face. Again.

“Okay, Okay!” Steve clears his throat. “Hey, Eds, it’s Nick. What’re you up to?”

Eddie sucks in a breath and lets it forcefully out of pursed lips. “Uhh—hey, Nick… I’m…”—his eyes flick sideways to catch Steve staring at him with a half-smile on his face—“no. Nope! I can’t do this.”

Eddie goes to stand from his perch on the couch, but Steve’s arm shoots out to grab him. “Alright. Let’s just do it, you and me. No phone roleplaying required. Just start with saying a compliment you’d tell Nick or something.”

“Alright… Okay… Uh, you’re—I mean Nick—is really funny?” Eddie says. Nick isn’t all that funny but, fuck, it’s all Eddie can think of. Steve is funny, though, so it’s easy enough to say.

“Yeah, good. That’s good. What else?”

“And you’re really hot. Really fucking hot.”

“Good.” Steve shifts around on the couch, maybe trying to get more comfortable. “And then Nick would say something like, You’re really hot, too.”

Eddie stifles a giggle. “I really don’t think he would.”

“Well, just pretend he does. And then it’s your turn to keep the conversation heading in the direction you want it to.”

“By saying what, Harrington?”

“Try saying how I—Nick—makes you feel.”

“Okay. You make me feel… like I’m vibrating. Like I’m pressurized, or something.”

“Yeah?” Steve breathes, his voice dropping an octave. Probably just getting more into character. “What does that make you do, when you feel like that?”

“It makes me… makes me hard.” Eddie feels his hips pitching forward. His cock twitches under his flannel pants.

A dangerous game they’re playing. Maybe Steve doesn’t know just how serious Eddie was when he said he’s pent up.

“Fuck,” Steve says lowly.

“Too much?”

“No! Nah, it’s good. It’s hot. I mean, sometimes it’ll take longer to build into that kind of stuff, but keep going.”

Eddie nods nervously. “Okay. Uh, what do I say now?”

Steve sits up a bit to adjust the band of his sweats. “Sorry. So, you said it makes you hard. And then I’d say… me too. That it makes me hard just talking about it. Just thinking about it.”

Eddie’s dick is starting to properly fill out again. It makes sense since he never got to come after taking himself right to the edge before Steve came over.

He takes a steadying breath to try to will it away. “Shit. Okay.”

“Do you like that?” Steve asks. “Do you like thinking about how hard my cock gets when I think about you?”

“Fuck, Steve.” Eddie pulls at the hem of his shirt, desperately trying to stretch it beyond his crotch where he is most definitely about to tent his pants. Maybe if he wore boxers it would have been easier to conceal. “I don’t think we should do this.”

“It’s okay. It just means we’re doing good, right?” Steve slides his hips forward, making his sweats tighten against the bulge between his own legs.

Eddie lets his eyes linger there for longer than he should. There’s no way that Steve is getting turned on by all of this, but shit, he is. The proof is in the pudding—if the pudding is his dick that is suspiciously growing under the heather grey fabric.

He can’t help but blurt out, “I want to suck your cock.”

Because it’s true. Eddie’s mouth is watering just from the thought of it. But as soon as the words push past his lips, he realises that it’s not exactly fitting in the theme of phone sex. So he quickly adds, “If we were together right now. Instead of—uh—just on the phone.”

“Fuck, yeah. You’d suck my cock so good.” Steve licks his lips, and Eddie swears his eyes trail over his body, landing between his legs and then back up to his mouth. “I’d fuck your throat so deeply you’d gag and drool all over yourself.”

Eddie can’t help himself from groaning at that image. And as if his body is proving to Steve just how right he is, a trickle of saliva escapes the corner of his lips before he’s able to swallow it back.

He lifts his hand to wipe the back of it against his mouth. “Jesus, Steve.”

Steve shifts closer to Eddie. His voice is low and soft and seductive, and Eddie is having a very hard time remembering that this is a game as he says, “And then I’d ask if you’re touching yourself.”

The words echo those of Nick’s. But when Steve says them, he doesn’t sound horrified at the thought. He sounds like he wants Eddie to be fucking his hand while they talk. Like the thought turns him on almost as much as it does Eddie.

“I would be, by now,” Eddie confesses, wiping his sweaty palms against his knees. He desperately wants to trail them higher, wants to rub between his legs where he’s throbbing and hot. His pants feel like a sauna. They’re humid and sticky, and he knows it’s partly because he’s radiating heat, but also because his cock is already starting to dribble.

“I would be, too,” Steve says. “I mean, Nick would be, too. If I was Nick. And I’d—I’d ask how you were touching yourself. What it felt like.”

Eddie glances between Steve’s legs again. And—holy shit—Steve is hard. As hard as Eddie.

His cock is fucking massive, as far as Eddie can tell. Thick, and long, sitting sideways inside his pants against his hip. Eddie knows it would stand proud by Steve’s belly button if it wasn’t trapped.

And he’s also pretty sure Steve is circumcised by the obvious ridge he can see under the fabric.

Maybe it’s dumb, or false hope, or just how ridiculously horny he is (again), but Eddie is feeling encouraged. Because he’s not the only one who’s getting hot. He’s not the only one who’s participating, or the only one who’s bricked up.

So… why not get into it a bit more?

“I’d say that I have my hand wrapped around my cock. That it feels heavy in my hand. And wet. That I’m leaking all over myself.” Eddie’s hips pitch forward on their own accord, the sensitive tip of his dick deliciously grazing against the flannel of his pants. “And I’d tell you that it feels good. Really fucking good. But it would feel better if it was your hand instead.”

Steve is the first one to break.

Eddie can tell it’s an automatic reaction when he reaches for his cock and squeezes where it’s straining under his sweats. Awareness shimmers in Steve’s eyes, and he quickly pulls his hand away again. “Shit. Sorry.”

“It’s all good,” Eddie says fast as a whip, repeating Steve’s words from earlier. “Just means we’re doing good, right?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s laugh is small and breathy. “Really good.”

Eddie swallows his nerves, decides to see if he can keep whatever this is going. “What would you say after that?”

It seems it’s Steve’s turn to be flustered. Eddie can see red creeping up his neck, like his chest is flushed. It reaches his cheeks and makes him look all bright and pink. “I’d tell you what I’d be doing.”

“Which would be?”

“I’d be reaching under my pants, and I’d circle my fingers around my dick. Gently at first, because—because I’m sensitive down there. And I want to make it last.” Eddie watches as Steve’s hands lift back to his lap. And then pinch the hem of his shirt. A strip of his sun-kissed stomach flashes as his fingers tease against the drawstring of his pants. “Like this.”

Steve’s hand disappears as it pushes down into his sweats. It moves along the length of his cock. He adjusts so it’s no longer sitting sideways; it’s now straight up, as big as Eddie assumed, dangerously close from peeking past the waistband.

Eddie would not be upset if it did.

The best part is when Steve’s hand starts moving under the fabric. Long, soft strokes that Eddie can tell are featherlight, mostly just fingertips teasing against his skin. Just enough to make Steve bite down on his lip and his breath hitch in his throat.

“Steve—fuck.” Eddie’s mouth goes dry as he watches Steve touch himself. And he has a few fleeting thoughts.

First is the classic, Am I dreaming? Because surely Steve Harrington is not jerking himself off in Eddie’s living room on a Friday night while they say filthy things to each other under the guise of another dude.

Impossible.

The second comes after Eddie subtly pinches himself and doesn’t wake up. Which is, Is this a joke? Because now that he knows he’s (probably) not asleep, there must be some other horrible explanation for what’s happening. He racks his brain, plays back the events that led him here.

Eddie doesn’t think he could misinterpret everything. But he’s probably done dumber things in his life.

Plausible.

And the third—which is the thought that’s taking up the majority of his consciousness—is, Am I allowed to touch myself, too?

He doesn’t let himself consider this one too long. Because there’s no way in Hell that Eddie would be able to stop himself. Not if a gun was pointed to his head.

So he shoves his hand down the front of his pants and squeezes his cock way more aggressively than Steve.

It’s both not enough and instant satisfaction. Like when you start scratching an itch and it seems to get itchier as your nails dig into your skin, but at the same time it’s doing exactly what you need to soothe the discomfort.

Eddie’s lips part as he grabs his balls and gives them a taut squeeze. His dick basically weeps against his skin. So much precum is pushing from his slit that it’ll be a miracle if there’s any left when he actually comes. Fuck, he hopes this time he can actually come.

His heart is beating so goddamn fast in his chest that there’s a good chance if he stops for a second time this evening, it will give out. He really, really will die.

“Does it feel good?” Steve practically purrs the question.

Eddie nods fervently, but he’s not able to form words. He doesn’t know where to look; Steve’s blown eyes that seem more black than hazel, his hand that’s speeding up under his sweats, the damp patch that’s forming where his cock must be leaking nearly as much as Eddie’s if it has already soaked through the fabric, or the growing expanse of abs on show—flexing in tandem with Steve’s strokes—as his free hand continues to lift the hem of his shirt.

Fuck, Eddie wants to come. Right now. He wants to come right fucking now.

He squeezes the base of his cock, bordering on the verge of pain, to stop his orgasm in its tracks. “So good, Stevie.”

Steve’s head falls back against the couch cushion, his eyes flicking between Eddie’s legs, his mouth, back down again… back up. He’s pumping himself with more intent now, his wrist twisting with each upwards stroke. “I wish it was your lips on me. I just know how good they’d feel. You have perfect dick-sucking lips.”

Eddie attempts stroking his cock again. It zaps into the coil in the pit of his stomach, but if he goes slow he’s sure he can go at least thirty second before he’s on the edge again.

“You have no idea, Steve,” he says, his tongue wetting his lips like he just might fall to his knees and start sucking Steve off for real. “I’d keep them nice and soft like you said you like. The inside of my mouth would be so wet—fuck, I’m salivating just thinking about it. And then I’d seal them around your big cock and hallow my cheeks when you least expect it, and you’d fucking thrust into my throat in surprise—”

Eddie moans, dropping his grip on himself yet again. That time it was really close; he can feel his dick pulsing under his pants. If he were alone, he’d push them down and watch as his cock twitched against his abdomen, angry at the loss of his fingers at the last possible moment.

Across from him, Steve speeds up; his hand moving in quick, short bursts against his tip. He makes his own noise, his eyes rolling back into his skull and then closing altogether.

It takes everything inside Eddie not to grab himself and come inside his pants right then and there. Shit, Steve looks so fucking good. Eddie desperately wants to see more. The colour of Steve’s dick, the way it strains, if it’s curved or straight, if it’s shiny. He wants to see it leak, wants to see Steve’s fingers catch the pearls of precum that are soaking through his pants and rub them into his skin. Wants to see it web between his fingertips—sticky and white. Wants to suck it off of them.

Shit. Fuck. It’s a miracle Eddie isn’t coming untouched. He’s still right there, on the verge of his orgasm. One single, insignificant, breath of a touch would one hundred percent set him off.

Steve’s eyes open. He drops his own dick, wipes his palm against his t-shirt. And he scootches closer to Eddie.

Just the brush of Steve’s thigh against Eddie’s makes him tremble, makes Eddie feel like he’s going to lose any semblance of control that remains.

They’re pressed right against each other. The length of Steve’s leg is warm and strong against Eddie’s, bigger than his. Thicker. Just like the rest of him.

Steve spits in his hand. Eddie watches as it pools in his cupped palm, watches as Steve brings that hand back down to the front of his pants. He stretches the waistband away from his body, and for a split second, Eddie catches a glimpse of his cock. Just the crown, broad and pink like Steve’s lips, right before the elastic snaps back and covers him again.

Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t you dare fucking come, Eddie Munson.

“And then,” Steve says, adding fuel to the fire, “I’m gonna bend you over the arm of this couch. You’ll look so hot, with your back arched and your ass on full display.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Fuck it. Eddie sticks his hand back down his pants, but barely touches himself. Just draws a line up the fat vein on the underside of his cock. He can feel his heartbeat under the pad of his finger.

“I’ll push into you so slowly. You’ll feel so full with my dick in your tight little asshole. And you’ll make those sexy little noises the whole time.”

Eddie makes one of them right as Steve says that—a low, quiet rumble from the back of his throat.

“Yeah, just like that. And then… then I’ll start fucking you. It’ll feel so good, Eddie.” Steve fucks his fist harder, his hips lifting from the couch like he’s chasing his own touch. His hand sounds wet on his cock, slapping and squelching each time it smacks against the base. “I’m gonna fuck you so good that you start crying. That you start screaming. Your scary neighbours will know how good I’m fucking you from the noises they hear coming out of your trailer.”

Eddie wonders if he lets himself come if it’ll be the end of whatever is happening. He knows for a stone-cold fact that he’ll be able to stay hard after the first time. But Steve doesn’t know that. Not yet. Maybe he should tell him.

But for now, Eddie tries to regain some control, some semblance of his quippy, cocky personality, just so he doesn’t come off entirely as a whimpering fool (if it’s not already too late). He tries to smirk. “Bold of you to assume I’m a bottom, Harrington.”

“A bottom?” Steve asks, and Eddie realises that maybe it’s a term that he’s never heard before. Because he’s straight… (question mark?). Again, Steve uses context clues. Smart guy. He presses impossibly closer into Eddie’s side, and asks, “Are you telling me you don’t want to feel my cock inside of you? Don’t want my cum dripping from your asshole for hours after we fuck?”

Eddie’s whole body vibrates. That’s it. The end. He fists his cock and pumps it hard, pulling his foreskin forward enough to cover the head, back to expose it, all underneath the checkered fabric of his pants. “I’m gonna come, Steve. I’m coming.”

His teeth bite painfully into his lower lip as he lets himself tumble from the ledge. Cum surges from his cock hard enough that he knows it would have painted his entire chest if it wasn’t contained inside of his pants. Each wave of his climax makes him whine aloud. It sounds crude, mixed with the slick slap of his hand against his skin.

“Shit,” Steve mumbles, staring as Eddie’s working fist, eyes blown wide like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

And maybe it shouldn’t, but Eddie’s left hand reaches out with a mind of its own, gripping high on Steve’s thigh. Squeezing it hard enough to leave a bruise, while his right is covered with hot, slick cum.

“Don’t stop,” Eddie babbles, riding out his orgasm for everything it’s worth. “Keep going. Keep talking. Don’t stop. I’m not finished yet, I wanna come again. Please. Please.”

“Oh, fuck, Eddie.” Steve brings his own hand down atop where Eddie’s is still sunk into the flesh of his upper leg. For a moment, he thinks Steve is going to pry his fingers away, but instead he laces them with his own.

It’s such a simple thing, holding hands, but it feels intimate. Intentional. Like this isn’t just some game.

Eddie shouldn’t be thinking that. But he is. He is. And it’s the moment he consciously knows he’ll be ruined for anyone else. End game for Eddie Munson. Steve held his hand while they jerked off. He’s in love.

Steve yanks him from his internal monologue. “You can come twice in a row?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, his hand still squeezing between his legs. Each stroke sends a bolt of lightening through his entire body, but his dick barely softens in his hand before it stiffens back up to steel once more. “Usually more than that. Four times if I want, but—but not as much cum comes out as the first.”

“Oh my God,” Steve breathes. “Fuck, that’s so hot. Can I… Can I see?”

His eyes flicker down to Eddie’s crotch.

“Sure.” Eddie pretends he’s confident as he tugs down his pants, lifting his hips enough to push the fabric under them.

His cock springs free from where it was trapped.

He doesn’t want to be self-conscious of his body, but he can’t help but wonder what Steve sees. If he’s at all disappointed that Eddie’s dick isn’t as big as his. It he thinks it’s weird that he’s uncut or that his dick curves upwards. If he let his pubes grow too long.

But Steve’s eyes go heavy with desire, taking in every inch of Eddie. The way his entire dick is shiny and sticky with his own cum, how it gets stuck in the hair that grows below it. His fingers squeeze around Eddie’s, involuntarily or in encouragement, he doesn’t know. But it makes him feel better.

Eddie is about to ask if Steve would show him more, too.

Steve beats him to it. “Do you want me to—?”

“Yeah. Fuck, yeah.”

Steve brings the hem of his shirt to his chin, catching it between his teeth. His whole chest is on display, his olive abs flexing as he pulls down the front of his sweats, tucking the elastic waist under his balls. His hand circles his cock, so thick his fingers barely meet.

And now they’re both just… bare. Basically naked as they jerk off next to each other, hands still intertwined like they’re some sort of couple. Things go quiet for a few moments as they just watch each other. How their hands work against themselves, speeding up, slowing, twitching.

Eddie’s cum gets sticky on his hand, against his cock. When he pulls his fingers away from his body it feels a bit like glue, tacking his hand up so much that it’s hard to slide it over his length.

“Spit on it,” Steve whispers, like he knows exactly what Eddie is thinking.

Eddie nods, bringing his hand up to his mouth—

“Wait.” Steve unlaces his fingers from Eddie’s, grabs his wrist. “Can I?”

“Shit.” Eddie huffs a breath through his nose. “Sure, Harrington.”

Steve lets a long string of saliva fall from his pretty, pink lips. It wets Eddie’s palm, mixing with the cum that covers it, making it slippery instead of sticky. Instead of letting go, though, Steve brings Eddie’s hand down to his own lap.

“Wanna switch?”

And—holy fucking fuck. Eddie trembles with ill-contained delight. He doesn’t even reply, just wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock before he can even think about what’s happening. What it means. That it’s changing the dynamic—they’re getting involved with each other instead of just themselves.

It doesn’t even matter. Not right now.

Steve’s head falls back against the cushions. “Oh God, that’s amazing.”

Eddie slides his fingers up Steve’s shaft—so heavy and hot in his hand—just as Steve described he liked. Soft and gentle. He twists his wrist in the same way Steve touched himself, watches as his lips part and his brows crinkle together, marvels at the vision of Steve’s cockhead surging from his grip, so flushed against the paleness of his hand and the silver of his rings.

He squeezes a bit harder and watches Steve’s hips rut towards him.

“You look so good,” he tells Steve, voice getting lost behind the moans that Steve keeps loosing from his lungs.

“Eddie?” Steve pants, thighs twitching as Eddie dares to circle his thumb around Steve’s slit, gathering more wetness to join the rest.

“Hmm?”

“Were you serious earlier?” Steve asks, barely a whisper. “About wanting to suck me off?”

Eddie’s hand stills on Steve, his eyes shining wide with shock and want. “Yeah? I mean—yeah. Very serious.”

“…Would you?”

Steve doesn’t have to say anything else. Eddie is already sliding onto the floor, already grabbing Steve’s knees and spreading them apart so he can slot himself between them. As soon as he’s bracketed by those strong thighs, they clamp down against his waist. A powerhouse of muscle, locking him to where he kneels.

Eddie is slightly intimidated by Steve’s cock. Will he have to unhinge his jaw like some sort of python to fit it in his mouth?

He leans down and kitten licks the tip, testing how it might feel on his tongue. Steve’s body jolts from that alone, makes a little whimpering noise that makes Eddie’s dick dribble onto the carpet.

“That’s it,” Steve encourages as Eddie’s lips close around the crown of his cock. “That’s perfect. Fuck, I can’t believe this is happening. It’s all I think about.”

Eddie moans, opens his jaw wider, and then sinks forward. Steve’s cock glides against Eddie’s tongue. It tastes like hot, sweaty skin. And cum—whether it’s Eddie’s from his hand, or Steve’s pre, it’s salty and heady and makes Eddie’s mouth even more wet as he salivates.

“Fuuuuck.” Steve’s fingers bury themselves in Eddie’s curls, tugging him closer.

It’s different than his fantasies. Steve doesn’t smell like honey and almond soap, and Eddie’s nose most definitely cannot reach Steve’s pubes, even as the tip of his dick brushes against the back of his throat. But the dark curls at the base are exactly as Eddie pictured. Perfectly trimmed and up-kept, as nicely as the hair on Steve’s head.

Eddie can’t help but pull off Steve to trail his tongue all the way down his shaft. He noses along Steve’s inner thigh, shamelessly burying his face in that thick thatch of chestnut hair. And then he deeply inhales the musky scent of Steve.

Steve groans, shallowly thrusting against Eddie’s cheek, the tip of his cock grazing Eddie’s ear, getting lost in his mane of hair.

A rope of drool connects Steve to Eddie, his tongue lolling from his mouth to rub against the side of Steve’s balls as he drinks in his smell. He dips his chin lower, until Steve’s dick is standing straight up, resting against his forehead.

The noise Steve makes is fucking sinful—completely wanton—as Eddie shoves his nose into Steve’s balls and breathes him in, committing everything to memory. His scent, his taste, his sounds, his face—everything.

Eddie isn’t sure if this will happen ever again. Isn’t sure if it’ll even be acknowledged. So he’s going to enjoy every goddamn minute while he’s so up close and personal with Steve’s cock.

“Ah—Jesus Christ. You are a freak, Munson.” Normally, those words might hurt. But Steve says them with such lust that it can’t possible be construed as anything but a compliment. Eddie wraps his hand back around Steve’s cock and starts pumping him with purpose, sucking his balls into his mouth and rolling them around his tongue. The wet, slurping sounds are totally lewd in the quiet air of the trailer. “Shit. Ohhh—shit. I’m close. I’m about to come.”

Eddie hums in encouragement, keeps his lips sealed around Steve’s balls. His hand flies above his face until he can feel how tight Steve’s balls get, can feel his cock pulsing in his hand.

He pops off, rests Steve’s cockhead onto his tongue, and jerks him off fast and dirty.

“Eddie—Eddie!” Steve’s thighs tense around Eddie’s middle. Cum surges from his slit into the back of Eddie’s throat in thick rivers, coating his tongue and teeth in sticky white release that he happily swallows down.

Fuck, Steve tastes good. Feels good. Sounds even better as he comes with Eddie’s name falling from his lips. Eddie closes his eyes and revels in the moment, lets himself savour the twitch of Steve’s dick as it empties into his mouth, the intrusion as he thrusts into Eddie’s throat, and the threat of himself gagging against it. He keeps swirling his tongue, even as Steve’s cum stops spurting. Even as his noises become high, and his body starts seizing with each flick against his sensitive tip.

Eddie desperately wants to make the moment last forever, doesn’t want to acknowledge that Steve is basically crying from overstimulation above him.

Finally, the fingers in Eddie’s hair tug him away. He whines at the sudden emptiness, wants to lean back in and feel Steve’s cock soften completely inside of his mouth.

Steve’s eyes are still blown and lustful, and strangely soft, as he says, “That was so fucking good.”

He smiles and gives Steve’s knees a squeeze as he leans back, his own shaking under his weight as he hauls himself back up onto the couch. He feels a little weird now that Steve came, because Eddie is still hard. Still wanting. But he also came once himself. Not from Steve’s hands but from his words, and it was enough. Maybe he should just tuck himself away and let this thing end naturally—

Before he can make a decision, Steve is reaching towards Eddie’s lap. “Is this okay?” he asks as he wraps his fingers around Eddie’s cock.

Eddie lets his gaze fall between his legs. His dick gets swallowed up by Steve’s big hands. He likes the way it looks so red as it peeks out from his fist.

“Is that a real question?” Eddie’s hands flounder in the air before they land on the couch cushions and bury themselves there, his nails digging into the upholstery as Steve starts fucking him with his hand.

“I knew you’d be good,” Steve says lowly. “Knew your hands and your lips would feel incredible. I can’t believe how hard you made me come. I wanna make you come like that.”

Eddie’s jaw swings open and his eyebrows knit together, and he thinks to himself that it’s not going to take long at all for Steve to get what he wants.

Steve leans forward, and for a second Eddie thinks he’s going to put his mouth on him, but he just lets a string of spit fall onto the tip of Eddie’s cock and gathers it with his hand, spreading it along his skin that moves in tandem with his strokes. It’s almost as good.

“Oh, Jesus—Steve.” Eddie sucks in a breath as Steve’s fingers tighten, forcing a bead of precum from his slit. “I’m gonna come again. Keep doing that. Keep—keep doing that!”

Steve nods, watching as he works Eddie back to the edge. Watching as he expertly rubs his thumb against the spot that makes Eddie see stars.

His second orgasm is stronger than his first. Eddie’s vision blurs out of focus—probably because his eyes are crossing—and the noise he makes sounds like an animal getting fucking murdered. The muscles in his torso tighten and tense and shudder as Steve enthusiastically jerks his dick, cum gathering in his fist, eyes watching with rapt attention.

Eddie’s body goes limp as Steve slowly lets go of him. When he’s able to focus his eyes, he notices that Steve is looking at his hand in fascination, watching Eddie’s cum stretch between his fingers as he scissors them.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever done that,” he says, bringing his wet hand up to his face. Steve smells his fingers, and then decides to bring them to his spit-slicked lips. One of his fingers pop into his mouth, and he hums around it, as if he’s actually enjoying the taste of Eddie’s release.

Yep. Eddie could definitely, without a doubt, go a third round.

But before his dick does something stupid like get stiff again, he tucks himself away. “And? What did you think?”

Steve pulls his finger from his mouth, grabbing an old napkin from the coffee table to wipe the rest of Eddie’s spend from them. “I think I was wrong.”

Eddie’s heart hammers in his chest, waiting for Steve to start berating him or something for making him do something gay. Even though he’s pretty sure he wasn’t the one who initiated it.

But Steve just smiles and cocks his head to one side. “You definitely aren’t bad at dirty talk.”

A sigh of relief heaves from Eddie’s chest. He smacks Steve’s shoulder, but he smiles right along. “You’re a prick.”

As he stands to grab a towel from the bathroom, Steve calls behind him, “You seemed to like my prick.”

Eddie blushes ferociously. He catches his expression in the mirror and tries to wipe it away, but it’s impossible. He’s just bound to look like a totally fucked-out dipshit for the rest of his life, he guesses. As soon as the water runs warm, Eddie washes his hands and wets two towels. He cleans off his dick and his sticky thighs, and brings the second one to the gorgeous man who’s back to lounging on his living room couch.

“Did you?” Steve asks, taking the towel to better clean his fingers. When he shoves it down the front of his pants, Eddie adverts his eyes.

“Did I what?”

“Enjoy it?”

“Jesus,” Eddie laughs. “Yes, Steve, I enjoyed it. Fuck.”

“Good.”

Eddie sits next to Steve and tries not to let himself feel awkward. “Yeah. Good.”

“Want to watch Labyrinth now?” Steve casually digs into the bag he brought, grabs the VHS and wiggles it in front of Eddie’s face.

“Absolutely,” says Eddie.

They pop in the tape, and the TV screen glows blue before it starts playing through the ads. Steve sits next to Eddie, their thighs pressed up against each other, just like they had been before.

Steve reaches over and laces his fingers with Eddie’s. They stay like that for the whole movie.

_____

It’s been three days since Steve left. Since Eddie has even heard from him. Keith makes sure they don’t have many shifts together at Family Video (because they never got any work done), so it’s not uncommon that they go this long. But Eddie’s anxiety makes it feel like it’s the end of the fucking world.

God forbid he reach out to Steve himself.

But by the end of the third night, he gets a phone call.

“Hello?” he answers.

“Hey, man.” Steve is on the other line, sounding chipper and unphased.

Maybe Eddie was overthinking it.

“Oh, hey!” he says, a little bit too enthusiastically. He dials it back a bit, clears his throat. “What’s up?”

“Not much. Just got off work. I have the afternoon off.”

“Sweet.” Eddie nervously twirls the chords between his fingers. Time to be brave. “Do you—maybe—want to hang out then?”

“Yeah. That’s why I called, actually. I stole Psycho III from Family Video. Want me to bring it over?”

Eddie’s shoulders sag in relief. Things aren’t changing. Steve won’t estrange himself after what happened, because he’s a good person. Eddie doesn’t even know why he was worried in the first place.

“Sounds perfect.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, cool.”

A few ticks go by, and then Steve quietly asks, “Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m just wondering…”

Eddie waits, the suspense nearly killing him. “Wondering what, Steve?”

“…What are you wearing?”

MASTERLIST

SOCIALS

581 notes · View notes

starshapedkookie · 2 years

Text

At the End of the Day

summary: You and Jungkook have been best friends for 8 years, going through absolute hell and back together. After senior year of high school, you and Jungkook began a tradition of taking annual vacations together during the summer months. This summer is no different, with you and Jungkook celebrating graduating college just a couple months prior. You're set to move to NYC after the summer, with you and Jungkook soaking in the sun and as many moments as you can together. You'd think nothing could ever tear your friendship apart with him, but when you've sat on the beach for too many days in a row watching him surf, you can't help but wonder - when did your best friend get so hot?

➢ pairing: jungkook x female reader

➢ genre: high school friends to lovers, ex-baseball player jungkook, beach/vacation au, fluff, smut, a little angst

➢ warnings: language, angst, use of edibles, drinking, graphic depictions of smut (fingering, fem. receiving oral, light choking, dom-ish(?) jungkook, protected sex, obscene use of term baby) also i know that in the little mood board i created, the girl is a teeny white girl & i don't want to alienate any of my poc readers at all - i just thought these pics fit the vibe so take them with a grain of salt 😊

➢ word count: 13.3 k

➢ mini playlist: at the end of the day by wallows, satellite, late night talking, carolina by harry styles, no angel by beyonce, ICE (we should do drugs) by labrinth, unusual you by britney spears

posting this in honor of BTS' 9th anniversary. i think i will be sad about their hiatus for the next few days, but i know amazing things are coming for them. bts has saved me more than anyone could imagine - and this story feels like a love letter to jungkook. i hope you all enjoy.

∞

You’re secretly watching him through your sunglasses, bottom lip tucked between your teeth in your observation. The sun’s rays are hot and you should probably reapply your sunscreen, but you can’t budge in your chair. From this distance, he probably thinks your eyes are still focused on the open book in your lap but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

You’re not exactly sure when Jeon Jungkook became so sexy. It was definitely a slow burn of growth and puberty overtime, still shocked that your best friend of 8 years looked like this now. Muscles covering his body; leaned out and defined just enough. His hair cut immaculately after a few rough stints of trying to grow it long the last two years of college. Multiple piercings in his ears and you can’t even get started on the eyebrow and lip piercing he’s gotten in the last six months. Tattoos—god his fucking tattoos—covering the entirety of his right arm; shoulder to hand. The only thing that remained the same about him was his goofy personality and lame attempts he called jokes.

When you had first met Jungkook, he was 15 and you were 14, only a few months younger than him. High school orientation is where you met to be exact. Perhaps out of privilege, both of you ended up at the same private high school—nationally ranked for its academics and sports. It’s not hard to guess what you were there for and what he was there. Jungkook was one of the shyest people you had ever met at the time. You’d later find out that he was scouted by the high school’s baseball coaches to join the program. He was skinny like a tree branch, had a black bowl cut, and a nose too big for his face. You don’t know exactly why the two of you ended up becoming best friends but either way, you were grateful that he was in your life.

It’s just now, your friend just happens to be insanely hot and more confident than ever. Like you’ve said, you’re not sure when this transformation happened or how you were able to ignore it for so long, but goddamn—

You quickly shift your gaze away from Jungkook as he begins to make his way back to your chairs from the water. Your focus goes back to the pages of your book—a contemporary beach romance—very fitting for your vacation to the beach this year. Jungkook makes his appearance as you’re adjusting your sunglasses, setting down his surfboard on the sand with a thump—a hobby he’s picked up in the last couple years.

You bring a hand up to further block the sun as you smile up at him, “How’s the water?” You ask.

A playful smirk slowly spreads across his face and you soon regret your words when he leans over you, shaking his head of hair like a dog.

“Jungkook! Quit it!” You yelp at him when the cold water its your skin, holding your book out to protect its precious pages. He laughs, clearly proud of himself—you having to make a conscious effort to ignore how his abdominals contract with each suck in of his breath.

“It’s alright, waves are pretty easy today,” he says running a hand through his wet hair to get his bangs out of his face.

“Just be careful out there, please,” you tell him like it’s a warning.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” he pauses as he takes a long drink of water. “How’s the book?” He asks as he sits down in the chair beside you, throwing on his pair of sunglasses.

You gulp, almost not even hearing his question.

“It’s cute,” you say, book marking your page and setting it down on the towel that’s between you two, “Kind of repetitive though.”

He nods once before looking away from you, outstretched beneath the sun, “All the books you read are the same,” he chuckles, shoving his feet into the sand.

You narrow your eyes at him even though he can’t see you behind your shades, “I’d beg to differ,” you tell him, “Just because I like romances with happy endings doesn’t mean they’re all the same,” you defend yourself.

He glances at you, a smile playing on his lips, “Sure.”

“Fuck you Jeon, when’s the last time you’ve even read a book?” You challenge, “The last textbook you ever had to read in college?”

He makes a hum in not-so deep thought, “Probably,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes with a laugh escaping your lips. Though Jungkook doesn’t voice it, he likes hearing you laugh. “This reminds me of the first trip we took,” he adds in.

You hum in agreement, a small smile forming across your face.

Both of you then lay in silence as you pick up your book again, soaking up the sun and sound of waves crashing a few hundred yards away from you. Silence is never awkward between you two. It hasn’t been for years at this point. You enjoy his company enough that there’s no need to talk to each other constantly. You know everything about him and he knows everything about you—minus the minuscule crush you’ve developed for him overtime. It’s innocent really; Jungkook was your best friend, funny, attractive, and you talk to him nearly everyday. It would be abnormal if you didn’t feel a twinge of something beyond friendship with him occasionally.

At least, if you tell yourself that enough; you’d hope it would be true.

As you peak at him again over your sunglasses, he’s closed his eyes in relaxation, and you begin to think about the journey that’s led you to this very moment.

After you and Jungkook made it through high school, both of you happened to receive scholarships to the same university in the city. You on a nearly full-ride academic scholarship and him on baseball scholarship. Though right before both of you shipped yourselves off to university, you two decided to take an unplanned long, beach weekend trip back to his home in Busan. It took quite a bit of convincing for your parents to ultimately let you go on a trip with just Jungkook alone. Though after Mr. and Mrs. Jeon explained that they had two extra bedrooms in their beach house and you two were ensured you had to check in with whatever you decided to do, your parents caved. You’re not even sure you and Jungkook would call it a vacation now, but at the time, it was so fun. So fun in fact that both of you decided after that trip, you two would continue to take summer trips together after the school year ended.

Throughout your semesters at university, both of you worked part-time jobs despite your busy schedules to save up for your trips. Jungkook usually worked more hours in the Fall, given his baseball schedule in the Spring was more demanding. Yet you two somehow always made it work. The year after freshman year, the two of you went to Seoraken National Park for five days, hiking and taking multiple dips in the hot springs. After sophomore year, you both decided to save a little more and fly to Tokyo, though staying in the absolute most-dirt cheap hotel you could possibly find.

It’s after this summer where Jungkook’s life completely fell apart—every time you look at the scar on his knee, a chill is still sent down your spine. You remember the day so vividly—an open scrimmage in the Fall with the rival university in the city. Of course, you went to support Jungkook with your roommate Lisa, excited to see Jungkook officially play as captain—an unheard of accomplishment for a junior on the team. You’ll never forget the scream he yelled out as soon as he slid into the home plate, the opposing catchers cleat getting twisted up under Jungkook’s knee. He rolled onto his side, clutching his leg in agonizing pain as the crowd watched in shock.

Jungkook had torn his ACL and MCL, as well as multiple smaller ligaments and muscles in the surrounding area of his right knee. In a fucking scrimmage, he would say through anger, frustration, and tears. The injury was career ending and that was the only time you’d ever seen Jungkook cry in your years of friendship. Jungkook had gone from someone who was expecting to be drafted in the first or second round, to someone who had lost their baseball scholarship and a fucked up knee for the rest of his life. Jungkook almost didn’t even finish school after that, though through the pressure of his parents and you, he walked across the graduation stage with you less than two months ago. You were proud him, star baseball player or not, though you know it’s something he still struggles with to this day even if he doesn’t voice it.

After Jungkook’s knee had healed through physical therapy and other treatments, he ended up working more hours and working with little league teams in the city for extra money. By the end of the Spring semester, both of you had saved up enough money to where it was feasible to pretty much go wherever you wanted. You settled on flying to Europe, doing a two week excursion that was exhausting—but worth every penny you spent. There had been some squabble on that trip between the two of you and a third party, but the last thing you wanted was to think about that.

Now you’re sat on Jeju Island with him, enjoying every moment you can get with your best friend before your life changes forever. Through countless hours of working, volunteering, and two internships, you had landed a dream job of being an editor in New York City. You weren’t due to move until the Fall, but the prospect of not seeing your friends and family made you extremely sad. It’s also why you’ve realized that whatever feelings you’ve harbored for Jungkook, must be kept secret deep within your body. It wasn’t reasonable to act upon them when you would be leaving—you wouldn’t ruin your friendship and leave Jungkook here in that way.

“Earth to Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice knocks you out of your long reverie. You hadn’t even read a full page of your book as it’s still on the page you folded in the corner earlier.

“W-what? Sorry,” you snap out of it, turning to him as you put your sunglasses on your head.

“I said do you wanna head up soon? Make some dinner? Watch a movie tonight or something?” He asks. Your heart strings pull at the domesticity and you’re nodding before you even speak.

“Yeah,” your expression is soft, “Though you’re in charge of the cooking tonight. I’ve done it the past two nights,” you warn him.

He smirks, digging around his beach bag for his t-shirt to pull on, “Fine. Only if I get to pick the movie we watch.”

“Hey! That’s not fair!” You pout. After he pulls his shirt on—which you’re thankful for—he reaches over to pinch your thigh in retaliation. You jerk in reaction, “Asshole.”

He laughs again, both of you beginning to pack up your things. Though you don’t voice it, you love hearing his laugh.

∞

Jungkook prepares a small array of yummy dishes—tteokbokki, a chicken stir fry, cucumber salad, and of course a side of kimchi. Neither one of you had been to the store since you two arrived to the island on Sunday, so there wasn’t much else to work with now on Friday. You make a mental note to create a new list and go again tomorrow, still having another week of your two week trip. The cottage AirBnB was small but had everything you two needed for the vacation. A kitchen, dining room, living room with a pullout couch (that wasn’t being utilized), a bedroom with a king bed which even had a small balcony that overlooked the beach. You definitely lucked out in terms of booking the AirBnB on the quieter side of the island, having most of the beach to yourselves the last few days.

“Excuse me?” You’re laughing as you look at Jungkook dumbfounded from his words.

His mouth turns up in the right corner as he smiles, “You heard me,” he remarks, “We should do drugs.”

He carries on his task of drying the pan he used for the stir fry, looking at you with a kink in his pierced eyebrow. You narrow your eyes at him, leaning against the counter as you watch him, fighting your own smile.

“And where are you going to find drugs on this island?” You say pointedly.

“Sweetheart, you know I have connections,” he retorts back, putting the pan back into his respectful cabinet. If there was another thing that Jungkook did to turn you on; his cleanliness. He was the most organized man you had ever met—unsure if he was actually part of the male species given the track record of your other guy friends. He was cleaner and more organized than you most of the time.

“You’re ridiculous Jeon,” your roll your eyes, “Can I trust said drugs?”

His smirk spreads even wider, knowing that he’s got you now.

“Of course, Yoongi wouldn’t sell me anything sketchy,” he says quickly leaving the kitchen. You have no idea who this Yoongi guy is, but you go along with it. You cross your arms as you lean against the counter, your eyes drifting off to the beautiful sunset over the water. You felt lucky to spend your time like this with Jungkook. He quickly comes back, a plastic bag in hand.

“What is it?” You ask him curiously.

“It’s a chocolate chip cookie edible,” he pauses, holding up the bag as he observes it, “Think of it as a two for one; dessert and a high.”

You let out a laugh through your nose, grabbing the bag from him as you inspect it from the outside. As with any edible, it looks just like a normal cookie. You purse your lips, thinking about it for a moment. You hadn’t got high in awhile—since right before graduation actually. You and your roommates shared a nasty bong, with Lisa ultimately keeping it after you all moved out. You and Jungkook had your fair share of getting high together, whether it be at parties at the baseball house or his apartment on Sundays with his roommate Taehyung.

You open the bag, sniffing it as Jungkook watches you, clearly amused. You break off a small piece of the cookie, plopping it into your mouth knowing it will take at least an hour for you to start to feel the effects of it. It tastes good, although there’s still that tinge of THC that never goes away fully with baked edibles.

You walk up to Jungkook, shoving the bag into his chest, “I’m going to shower,” you announce. He nods, biting his lip as you walk away from him, his throat feeling slightly clogged. He watches your frame as you disappear into the bathroom, calling after you quickly.

“Don’t use all the hot water!” He says from the kitchen, digging in the bag to take out his own piece of the cookie. Maybe this would help him clear his head from you.

∞

You’re giggling uncontrollably as you scroll through your phone, small cackles coming from you lips occasionally.

“Y/N stop! Give me that!” Jungkook reaches over, attempting to take your phone away from you, but his own laughter taking control.

You and Jungkook had decided to forgo the movie, opting to enjoy the balcony attached to the bedroom. It was well past 10 PM now, the sun fully set and a couple small candles and the lamps from the bedroom the only light sources. For whatever reason, both of you had been on a path of looking at old pictures of each other, you hysterically laughing at one of them from high school when both of you decided to go to the school dance together as friends. You were mainly laughing at the way he styled his hair, even then at 16 you thought it was ridiculous.

“I don’t even know why you still have that picture,” he mutters in defeat on his side of the couch.

You furrow your eyebrows at him as you push his leg with your foot. He’s sat up, right leg underneath him, head resting on his hand as he looks at you. You’re laying on your back, legs outstretched over his lap.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You push, “I think I have every known picture of you thanks to your brother.”

It’s the truth—you had more baby pictures of Jungkook on your phone than you did of yourself. He was just too damn cute and awkward. You and Jungkook’s older brother had a good relationship throughout the years, Junghyun, always making sure to send you gems of your best friend when he found them. They looked similar, though Jungkook pulled more features from his dad, including the big eyes and big nose, whereas Junghyun looked more like their mother.

“God I can’t stand him,” he groans running a hand through his freshly dried and showered hair. He’s wearing a pair of sweatshorts and a t-shirt, his tattoos disappearing in the darkness. You’re wearing a tank top and sweatpants, feeling much better since your shower, even better since your high has kicked in.

“This was a good idea,” you completely change the subject, not even really sure of your own words.

He smiles at you, “I’m full of good ideas Y/N.”

His smile make your heart thump, unable to keep your mind from going there. Your intrusive thoughts only took over when you were intoxicated. You stare at his lips a little too long before you look at your phone to change the song playing lowly from Jungkook’s bluetooth speaker.

The thing about being friends with someone of the opposite species for so long—it’s that your friends could barely hold themselves from being shitheads sometimes. It was sophomore year—right before Jungkook’s accident—when you were at one of the many baseball parties you attended throughout college. While you were drunk, you knew that succumbing to truth or dare was your own doing. You should have seen it coming from a mile away when a mutual friend and teammate of Jungkook’s—Park Jimin—dared you to kiss him. If you had been more sober, you probably would have just taken the bitch cup and moved on with your life. Though being drunk and a little too curious after your years of friendship with Jungkook, you turned to him and pressed your lips against his. He—along with the entire group seemed taken aback at your actions—hearing whoops and ooo’s during the kiss.

Neither you nor Jungkook spoke about that after the party. It was almost as if it had never happened. It didn’t bother you too much given you were drunk and being silly. It was a brief kiss, no tongue, but enough to satiate your curiosity. At least at that point in time. Now, your curiosity was getting the best of you in other feats—though you’ve sworn to yourself you wouldn’t ever cross that line.

“Do you ever think about life in like, ten years?” Jungkook suddenly asks, his gaze off to the distance over the balcony. From the cottage, you could faintly hear waves still crashing.

“Hm,” you mumble, “I guess? I don’t know…”

He looks over at you, “I do,” he says simply.

“What does the Jeon Jungkook think about then?” You press, deciding to sit up some on the couch. You grab a pillow to support your back as you settle against the armrest of the couch.

“I think about being married, having kids, that sorta thing,” his voice is low, yet serious. Through your hazy gaze, you bite your lip nervously.

“That’s very adult of you,” you try to lighten the mood with a giggle. He doesn’t laugh, only returning a fainted smile.

“Do you not?” He looks away from you sounding rushed and little nervous, picking at loose skin along his cuticles.

You suddenly feel a lump form in your throat, pulse uneasy, anxiety rises in your veins. Of course you did.

“I mean yeah,” you offer weakly, “I guess I’ve just always been more concerned with the present,” you tell him honestly.

He nods, fully understanding—it’s how he used to think too until his accident. He never truly had to put much thought into his future until that day on the field changed his entire life. His future was set and then suddenly it wasn’t. Now, he worries about his future everyday and where life is going to take him. He thought he was going to play professional ball until his thirties, making enough money that he’d never have to worry about a real job. Turns out, life had other things in store for Jungkook. And with you leaving thousands of miles away; his life really wasn’t panning out how he thought.

“I like the idea of marriage you know?” He says with a hidden adoration in his tone. You find yourself softly smiling at him. “Like just having that one person for you, sharing a life together, does that sound stupid?” he exhales heavily after his question.

You quickly shake your head, “Not at all,” you say pulling your legs to sit criss-cross, “We’ll all get there one day.. I feel like our paths are set for us.”

He shrugs, feeling a little pessimistic, “I don’t know,” he breathes heavily, “I thought everything was going to work out a certain way… but I don’t know anymore,” he sounds defeated and sad. You look at him concerned, though you’re sure he’s just spitting high word vomit. You know a lot about Jungkook, but you’ve never heard him speak of such things—except during his relationship with Park Chaeyoung.

Chaeyoung was Jungkook’s first serious relationship in the time span you’d known him. They met at the end of sophomore year, but only officially began dating at the beginning of junior year. While Chaeyoung was beautiful and smart enough to make you feel insecure, you weren’t her biggest fan. She kept her distance from you and you don’t know if you could exactly blame her. You were Jungkook’s best friend who happened to be a female. You want to say if you were in her shoes that you wouldn’t care who was Jungkook’s best friend, but you’re not sure could 100% say that.

You first realized that Chaeyoung wasn’t particularly fond of you when you met Jungkook at the hospital after his accident; waiting to confirm his surgery date and time. Even though Jungkook didn’t want you to go, you were the one that actually ended up leaving to not make Chaeyoung uncomfortable. Throughout the rest of junior year, tension built between you and Chaeyoung, and some distance grew between you and Jungkook. You’re sure that she never knew about the kiss you two had shared the year before; she would have freaked the hell out.

Jungkook was in love with Chaeyoung though. He fell hard and he fell fast—giving all of his love and extra time to her. You can vividly remember him talking about how he thought she could be the one. He was a hopeless romantic at heart but it’s when Chaeyoung told him he couldn’t go on the Europe trip you two had been planning for months that he finally stood up to her. It didn’t go over well, with her jealously taking over to the point where he broke it off with her a couple weeks before you two departed.

You thought that the trip was going to be good for him to get his mind off her but when they were consistently communicating behind your back, that’s when arguments throughout the two week trip conspired between you and Jungkook. Finally, with four days left of your trip, he decided to stop contact with her and everything between you two only went up again from there.

Though right here, right now; you can’t help but think his words are about Chaeyoung. You knew that they were acquaintances this past school year and always cordial when they saw each other. You suddenly feel insecure in the dim light, but you plaster a fake smile on your face to rid your mind of Jungkook and his ex.

“Don’t sound so doom and gloom Jungkookie,” you push yourself up and over to him, trying to make him feel better. You sit on your knees up next to him, pinching his left cheek between your fingers. He giggles but you don’t stop, pinching from his cheek to his chin, to his ear.

“Y/N I swear to god—“ are his last threatening words that you should have taken seriously because it’s not long until you find yourself being tickled to death by him.

“Jungkook! Stop!” You laugh, trying to fight yourself away from him, but his grip is too strong as he keeps you in place against the couch. You’re kicking your legs to try to get away from him as he attacks your side with his own chuckles filling up the space. To any outsider listening in, it probably sounds like a fucked up murderer situation.

You don’t even realize what’s happened until you open your eyes fully, Jungkook pinning your wrists down, his body hovering on top of yours. He’s stood with one leg on the ground, his bad knee resting between your legs on the couch. It feels like the world has stopped as you stare into each other’s eyes, your breath hitching in your throat. Jungkook has to make a conscious effort to not stare at your cleavage rising up and down as you breath in and out heavily.

“I-I might go to bed soon,” you say nervously, breaking eye contact with him to unraveling yourself from his grip. He rises as you do to give you space, wiping his hands on his shorts.

He nods, “Me too,” is all he says.

You leave the balcony to go brush your teeth and change into your pajamas. Jungkook stays behind to blow out the candles and turn off his speaker, feeling a heaviness between you two now. As he turns the bed down, his own hands are clammy, his high waring off faster than he would like. Both of you had no issue sharing the king bed when you booked the AirBnB a couple months ago, but now he’s fully regretting that decision. When Jungkook comes back from the kitchen with two glasses of water for you both, he finds you already climbing into bed in your cute matching, purple PJ set.

“Thank you,” you smile at him as he hands you the glass. You take a sip, feeling cotton mouth arise from the edible.

He climbs into bed soon after, turning off the lamp on his side of the bed encasing both of you in pure darkness.

“Goodnight Y/N,” are his last words that evening.

“Night Jungkook,” you say weakly as you’re facing away from him on your side. While you two have already made invisible boundaries when sharing the bed this past week, you make more of a conscious effort than ever to keep space between you two as you both drift off into sleep.

∞

It’s been a few days since your edible escapades with Jungkook. Both of you have seemingly moved on from the conversations had, the tension that had built up subsiding over the next few days. Now you two are back again at the beach in your normal routine. Jungkook’s just go out in the water from surfing and you’re laying on your tummy, starting the second book of your vacation. You decided to go with something different for you—a thriller about a writer brought in by another author’s husband to finish her books for her as she lies in a coma. Weird.

You know Jungkook’s back from the water when you feel water droplets scatter across your back. You look up from your book to find Jungkook sat down on his towel beside you, rubbing his right knee.

“You okay?” You ask him with concern. His major surgery scar is still less than two years old, therefore it’s still quite white and reflective in the sunlight.

He glances over to you before nodding, “Yeah I’m good, it’s just kind of stiff from surfing on it so much.”

You can’t help but feel an extreme amount of sadness when you watch him massage his skin. Your resting your chin on your hand as you study him carefully. From the moment you met Jungkook, baseball was his complete identity. It’s why people came up to him even if he didn’t want the attention. It’s what taught him discipline and hard work ethic. It’s what made him happy. The fact it was taken away from him so quickly terrifies you. You can’t even imagine the internal battles he’s had ever since that fateful day.

“Swim with me?” He suddenly asks.

Through the top of your sunglasses you glare at him, a groan leaving your mouth, “Jungkook you know how much I hate swimming in the ocean.”

He rolls his eyes at the dramatics, “Y/N there aren’t sharks in this part of the ocean,” he laughs.

You close your book not wanting to lose your place, “You don’t know that!” You retort.

He laughs again, this time ruffling your hair slightly, “I’ll protect you…” he trails off, a small pout crossing his features, “Plus it’ll make this feel better,” he’s referring to his knee.

Ugh, he really knew how to convince you.

You then agree, both getting up at the same time. You adjust your bikini to which Jungkook stares shamelessly. Your skin goes hot and you pretend you don’t see him doing so. You walk side by side to the water, a yelp leaving your lips when you feel how cold it is.

“Fuck Jungkook! It’s cold!” You whine as he continues his descent deeper. You’ve stopped at where the water hits your ankles, he’s at his knees.

“C’mon princess,” he whines back and the nickname gives you butterflies, “I’ll drag your ass in here if you don’t move woman!”

“Ugh,” you spit, “I’m coming,” you slowly walk towards him as he continues to walk deeper until he’s about to his chest, finally letting himself float against the waves after he gets over where they break.

“Y/N,” he says threateningly as you’ve stopped where the water hits your waist.

“Jungkook,” you respond but suddenly your heart sinks when he dips his body below water, disappearing beneath the surface. Your eyes widen as you look around paranoid. You know exactly what he’s up to. Though you’re expecting it, you have no time to brace yourself when Jungkook has suddenly grabbed your leg, pulling you beneath the water. You’re screaming, bubbles escaping your mouth until you reach the surface.

Jungkook has broken the water only a few inches from you as he laughs loudly, tipping his head bad. You push water towards his face, anger filling your body.

“Fuck you Jungkook!” You yell, his continuous laughter pissing you off even more.

You launch at him in the water, hiking yourself up onto his back as punishment. You wrap your legs around his torso and he adjusts you comfortably. If he was going to protect you, he really was going to protect you.

“I really hate you sometimes,” you mutter into his ear, his back rumbling against your chest as he chuckles.

“You love me,” he retorts.

You really do.

“See this isn’t too bad,” he then says looking over his shoulder to meet your gaze.

“We’re sitting ducks Jungkook,” you mumble, eyes looking around the water, still slightly paranoid. There’s a few other people in the water and a couple surfers which makes you feel a little better.

“It’s okay to get out of your comfort zone you know,” he raises a brow when you climb off his back, deciding to swim close in front of him. Both of you float with only a few inches between you two, water at your chests.

“Mhm,” you say sarcastically, “That’s what they all say before they’ve gotten their leg bit off,” you move your arms around to keep you wading. Thankfully it didn’t take long to get used to the chilly water.

He bites his lip as he watches you with an amused expression. You push away the way it makes you feel.

“You know that’s why I wanted to be your friend right?”

You furrow your eyebrows, moving to float on your back. Jungkook being the gentlemen he is, he ends up beside you, his arms giving your back some support in the water as you float.

“What do you mean?” You ask him.

You can’t see his expression as you’ve closed your eyes, the sun too bright to keep them open. His fingertips graze your skin every few seconds and you swear it feels like electricity running through your spine.

“You’ve always been the one to get me out of my comfort zone,” he points out like it’s obvious—though you’ve never had an inkling of this.

You open one eye at him in a squint, his face a lot closer to yours than you expected, “I don’t think so,” you laugh a little awkwardly as you give up on floating, settling back to your normal swimming position with him in front of you.

“I wouldn’t lie Y/N,” he laughs in return, “You’ve known me for a long time, you know how fucking weird I used to be.”

“Hey you weren’t weird,” you defend him, “Just a little awkward and going through puberty.”

He rolls his eyes, “Fucking weird,” he repeats, “I just mean I’ve never had a friend that’s always pushed me to do things I normally wouldn’t do. Hell just the vacations we’ve taken together is just one example,” he pauses, his next words cutting him a little deep, “I feel like you’re the reason I ever had a life outside of baseball.”

You bite your lip under the water as you don’t break his heavy eye contact. You’d never realize Jungkook thought that highly of you. It makes you feel giddy on the inside, but also a little sad that you were never that confident in your abilities as a friend. If anything, you thought Jungkook brought you out of your shell more.

“I’m just a small part of your life Jungkook,” is what you settle on.

They way his face falls doesn’t go unnoticed, “Trust me,” he pauses beginning a swim back to shore for you to follow him, “You’re a pretty big part Y/N.”

∞

It’s now Friday, which means you and Jungkook only have one and a half days left of your trip. The thought makes you sad, though you know that it’s not like you wouldn’t be seeing Jungkook afterwards. He lives in the same neighborhood as you for chrissakes. But given the loom of your impending move in a couple months, you couldn’t help but feel a finality of your life here coming soon.

You and Jungkook had gone out a couple times since being here, though neither of you had fully committed to getting too drunk. You had a feeling though that tonight you were ready to full let loose. Jungkook complimented you as soon as you were ready to leave, sending heat through your body. You were wearing a white two piece set—a small bralette type top with a matching mini-skirt that wrapped around your waist nicely. Your strappy heels gave you some height to Jungkook and you’re sure to any other tourist, you two looked like a couple.

Jungkook looked absolutely ravishing, the familiar lump of the past couple weeks forming when you laid eyes on him. He was dressed in an extravagant short sleeve button that was a yellow and white along with white pants to tie everything in. You almost laughed one, being you’re 99% sure the shirt is Fendi—how the hell did he afford that?—and two, you’re not sure you’d seen him in anything in sweatpants and t-shirts since graduation. Even then, it took you and Taehyung a lot of convincing for Jungkook to wear dress pants under his cap and gown.

You and Jungkook had ate dinner at a local sushi bar, getting a couple drinks there to pregame your evening. You don’t know how Jungkook ate and drank so much and keep the figure he had. It had to be genetics; there’s no other way.

It was now a little past 9 and both of you were feeling drunk—a good drunk—a happy drunk. The bar you two were at was partially outside, with a dance floor and good drinks. You and Jungkook are talking to a couple who also happen to be on vacation.

“Honeymooning is fun for sure,” the woman says, her words a little slurred, “Are you two honeymooning too?”

Both you and Jungkook begin to stutter, shaking your heads awkwardly, mumbling your words together.

“We’re not together,” you manage to get out as you lean against the bar for stability. Jungkook’s stood behind you, his chest touching your shoulder as his arm sits behind your frame protectively.

The new husband’s eyes widen, “Could’ve fooled me,” he says, “Right honey?”

“I agree Joon,” she eyes you up and down, clearly shameless as she does so. “Let’s go dance baby!” She suddenly exclaims. The couple—Namjoon and Camille—bid their farewells to you and Jungkook, leaving you two alone again at the bar.

You suddenly feel a little awkward under the strangers gaze, looking up and over at Jungkook. He’s giving them a straight smile before his eyes watch them walk away, an amused expression filling his eyes as he begins to laugh.

“You want another drink, honey?” He suddenly asks through a joke and you crack a smile, turning around to playfully push him. You catch a whiff of his scent as you stare at him intently, trying to ignore the deep stir of heat in your tummy. His gaze his vibrant as you take his sunglasses tucked from his shirt and place them over your eyes.

“If you’re paying Jeon,” you smile at him wickedly.

Jungkook orders both of you tequila shots, both of your faces scrunching up when you bite the lime for some relief. You have chills running down your spine, trying your best to keep the contents down.

“We’re going to be hurting tomorrow,” you say, sliding the shot glass back towards the bartender.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” he groans, suddenly reaching out to grab his phone. It’s buzzing in his hand, “It’s Junghyun,” he looks at you, “I’ll be right back?”

You nod, telling him you’d be right here. You watch as he walks away from you, a deep exhale escaping you. You’re intoxicated again—intrusive thoughts taking over your brain. You reminiscence over the last two weeks with Jungkook here. He makes you so incredibly happy and you’re sure that if you let yourself, you’d fall deeply in love with him—more than you already are. You’ve been through thick and thin together. You can’t let yourself go there though—it couldn’t happen. The friendship you two had between each other was too important to you. You’re not even sure Jungkook could even feel these feelings towards you. For all you know, he was just talking about his shitty ex the other day.

Your thoughts are interrupted when suddenly a man appears in front of you. A man that’s not Jungkook. He’s leaning his elbows on the bar as he waits for the bartender to take his order. He gives you a glance and you stare shamelessly. He’s quite attractive, that’s for damn sure.

“You want a drink sweetheart?” He suddenly asks, the pet name not sounding as good as it does coming from your best friend.

You find your voice over the music, “I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him knowing if you drink anymore, you’d be crossing the line of fun drunk to a miserable blackout.

He nods respecting what you’ve said, ordering two shots of whiskey for himself. You look around the bar trying to find Jungkook. It’s loud and crowded, but you haven’t been able to spot him in that ridiculous yellow shirt. You wonder what Junghyun needed that’s taking so long.

“What’s your name?” The strangers asks you as he turns his body to face yours completely.

You lean towards him some to save your voice, “Y/N,” you tell him.

A charming smile spreads across his face, “Well miss Y/N, why is a beautiful girl at this bar alone?”

You’ve dealt with many men of this caliber, so his words don’t creep you out much. Internally you applaud him for using the term beautiful, and not the typical hot or pretty.

“I’m not alone,” you tell him. He looks around the area you both are, your point not withstanding, “What’s your name?” You change the subject.

He downs his second shot of whiskey, “Jackson. It’s nice to meet you,” he offers his hand graciously and you shake it in return.

“Well Jackson,” you pause, feeling that tequila shot getting to you, “Why are you here at this bar alone?”

He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you, “I’m not alone either,” he retorts.

You nod slowly, a small smile spreading across your lips. Again, your eyes do another dance around the bar to spot Jungkook to no avail.

“Do you want to dance with me Miss Y/N?” He suddenly asks taking you completely off guard. You open your mouth then close it, only to open it again to say nothing. You should say no. You know in your heart you should say no. However with no sign of Jungkook and this Jackson guy seeming like a normal guy, you felt no guilt when you take his hand for him to take you to the dance floor.

The bar has great club and house music playing, making dancing an easy feat. Jackson is a great dancer, finding the rhythm to the songs easily as the DJ switches them rapidly. You find yourself comfortable with him, resting your hands lazily on his shoulders as he guides you through the motions. Maybe you’re too drunk, or you’re just relaxed, but you feel good in this moment. It reminds you of being a college freshman with Lisa, when you two would go to sweaty frat and baseball parties, dancing the night away with water bottles filled with cheap vodka.

The tide between you and Jackson folds when you turn around, unknowingly pressing your back to his chest. You both are swaying in the changing lights, his arms resting on your waist protectively, his head resting on your left shoulder. You’ve always been a decent dancer too, Jackson finding it impressive as you keep up with each other. When you find a hand gripping at Jackson’s hair pulling him closer to you, it’s when reality hits, time freezing in that very moment. You’ve opened your eyes after sometime, across the bar Jungkook walks in, his eyes finding yours instantaneously. His lips part, a painful expression crossing his features. He watches you only for a moment, his heels turning himself around to leave you be, heart feeling like someone’s crucifying it.

You suddenly panic, creating immediate space between you and Jackson. You turn around and lean up to his ear.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go—“ you tell him in a rush. He’s clearly confused but before you can listen to whatever he has to say, your feet pick you up to the path Jungkook must have taken to get out of here. It’s difficult to get through the crowd of people, especially in your heels and drunkenly, but you manage.

When you go to the outsider area of the bar, you don’t spot him. Shit, you think, where did he go? You start to panic, reaching for your phone out of your purse. You quickly scroll to his name, hitting the call button. You groan with an eye-roll—of course he isn’t going to fucking answer you.

You’re not completely sure he’s not in the bar anymore, but you chance it, leaving the bar alone. Thankfully the streets are well lit and there are plenty of people around to make you feel safe. You’re typing him a mean text as you walk back towards your cottage, ready to curse him out when you see him. That is, until you actually see him—then your mind goes blank.

Jungkook’s sat on the curb of a small, local convenient store eating what seems to be an ice cream sandwich. You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

“Jungkook!” You nearly exclaim, “What the hell are you doing?” You approach him, stumbling slightly in your heels.

He quickly notices how unstable you are, standing up to steady you, “You okay Y/N?”

You push him off you, “No the fuck I’m not okay,” you spit at him, “You just left me there?” You’re drunk and frustrated, that’s all you know.

“Here,” he offers the rest of his ice cream sandwich. You can’t resist him and you take it, eating it in two bites. He watches you carefully before saying, “Sorry, I just thought you were preoccupied.”

You throw away the paper wrapper, looking at him like he’s crazy.

“Are you for real Jungkook?” You press, not caring if you’re bringing attention to the two of you as people pass by. He shoves his hands into his pockets, exhaling heavily.

“You want to go home?” He asks with straight lips. You cross your arms over your chest angrily, what the hell was his problem?

“Do you want to go home?” You ask him in retaliation.

He only looks a you a brief moment before nodded slowly. This conversation is seriously sobering you up faster than anything has ever before and nothing productive has even be said.

He turns around, “C’mon,” he says.

“What do you mean?” You ask him confused as he’s widened his stance, as if he’s ready for you to plow over him.

“Hop on Y/N,” he says, “And don’t even try to fight me on this. I know your feet are killing you.”

He wants to piggy back you home. You stay put, hands playing with each other awkwardly staring at his back. He glances over his shoulder and says your name again.

“B-but your k-knee Jungkook,” you say hesitantly. You knew Jungkook weight lifted and did enough cardio for him to live until he was 105, but the last thing you wanted was for him to injure himself again, especially because of you.

“It’s fine Y/N, I promise,” he says, “I just want to get you home.”

As you brace yourself on his shoulders, you try to jump as light as possible to lessen the blow to his body. He catches you gracefully, adjusting your knees in his hands. And home is where you two go.

∞

After you two walk into the threshold of the cottage—you insisting on walking the last little bit of the way—a parable tension that could be cut with a knife has settled between you two. You tried your best to talk to him on the way back, but his answers were short and uninterested. You only had remnants of your drunkenness left inside you and if anything, you were tightening back up, even angrier than when you left the bar.

Jungkook’s about to walk into your shared bedroom before you call after him.

“Wait Jungkook!” You say. He stops in his tracks, turning to look at you. His face is unreadable in the dim lights of the cottage. “What the fuck happened back there?” You ask him as you take off your heels, leaving them by the couch.

“It’s nothing Y/N,” he brushes you off, turning around to continue his path to the bedroom. Of course you follow him; he expected it.

“Jungkook, come onnn,” you press, “Are you that pissed that I was dancing with someone else?” You can’t hide your anger and frustration if you tried. This wasn’t fair to you. He had paraded girls throughout college— parading Chaeyoung for a year and a half in front of you—and you never said anything about it no matter how much it bothered you.

“Y/N it’s fine, can we just,” he pauses as he looks over at you, “Just drop it?” He’s taking off his rings and bracelets, your lip tucked between your teeth.

You make an unsatisfied noise, stepping closer to him, “No we fucking can’t. What’s your problem Jungkook?”

He leans on the dresser with both hands, his muscle definition showing through his shirt as he tenses up. His jaw clenches as he closes his eyes in deep reverie. You watch him carefully, knowing you probably should tread lightly given he’s pissed. But you know what? You’re pissed too. He can’t act like that with no explanation—that’s not fair to you.

“Junghyun called me about you, you know,” are his first words as he looks over to you.

“M-me?” You stutter, confusion lacing your tone.

He pushes himself off the dresser, though he keeps distance between you two. He suddenly runs a frustrated grip through his hair, messing it up slightly.

“You know, since you’re moving halfway across the fucking globe,” he sounds bitter, though deep dejection is mainly what you hear. You moving had been a sensitive topic with him ever since the interview stage happened with you months ago. It hurt you to speak about it with Jungkook the most. The thought of leaving him crushed both of you which is why neither of you had brought it up these past two weeks.

“He was asking me if I had done it yet,” he laughs sarcastically, “Of fucking course he was.”

You’re more confused than ever and you say his name in a whisper, but he continues.

“You know the other day when you said that you were only a small part of my life, that’s when it really hit me,” he pauses, “You really don’t know how much you fucking mean to me Y/N. You’ve been my best friend for so long, been there with me through so much of my bullshit—my accident, losing my scholarship, losing my fucking life—“ he inhales deeply and you suddenly feel dizzy, unsure of where this conversation has turned.

“—And now I’m fucking losing you and I can’t even be honest with you because it doesn’t matter,” his voice breaks off as he looks at his feet. You start to panic, a roller coaster of emotions pulsing through you.

You step towards him hesitantly, “Jungkook you can always be honest with me,” you grab his forearm, “I’m your best friend for fucksakes—stop with the hysterics and just tell me what’s wrong,” you plead with him. If your words weren’t enough, your eyes were giving a show.

His bottom lip trembles as he meets your gaze. You have adrenaline running through you as he moves to rest his hands on your waist, gripping the skin tight.

“I love you Y/N,” he says letting out a deep breath before he can second guess himself.

“I know,” you tell him, “Jungkook you know I love you too.. you’re scaring me—“

“No Y/N,” he shakes his head, “I’m in love with you—like fucking crazy about you Y/N.”

His words take your breath away, stumbling slightly as you can’t believe the words he’s saying. He’s what? Jungkook’s in love with you? You part your lips, unable to form sentences, shaking your head stunned

“You don’t have to say anything,” he looks down, his forehead brushing yours, “But I couldn’t let you move without telling you—I don’t know how long it’s been but it just happened one day and I haven’t stopped since.”

“Jungkook,” you finally whisper after some silence, your palms finding solace on his broad chest, “I-I don’t know what to say,” you pause looking up through your lashes. You feel like you could cry from the up and down of your emotions.

You both stare at each other, unsure of who is going to make the next move. You decide that it will be you.

“B-but when we talked the other night about the future and stuff… I thought you were talking about Chaeyoung,” you admit, feeling a little dumb now that this secret has been spilled.

Jungkook lets out a laugh, unsure he heard you correctly, “Y/N—what, no, I haven’t spoken to Chaeyoung in months at this point,” he pauses, his strong hands gripping your forearms gently, “I was talking about you.. it’s always been you.”

There’s a silence that falls; a war raging in your head as you go through as many memories as you can with Jungkook. He’s been there for you at any moment you’ve needed him and vice versa. You couldn’t imagine a life without him and right now—you’ve finally decided in allowing yourself to be honest.

“Y/N I know this is unfair since you’re leaving but—“

“I love you too Jungkook,” you interrupt him to which he responds with a mellow what, “I know that I’m in love with you Jungkook—I have for some time now, I just didn’t want to admit it.. I-I was scared and I didn’t know how to bring it up, fuck I’m sorry—“

You’re suddenly cut off with Jungkook’s lips covering yours. You instantly melt into his lips as your eyes close, your hands finding their way around his neck to pull him down to you. After a few moments, he pulls away from you, rubbing his nose against yours.

“Is this real?” He asks, a small smile playing on his lips; all anxiousness leaving your body at once. You return a small smile, nodding in his delicate hold.

“Real,” you whisper back, chasing after his lips once again.

This time when your lips meet his, it’s more aggressive from each side, pouring out all frustration and built up pining over the years into it. His tongue opens your mouth wider and you sigh into him, tangling your fingers into his soft hair. His hands slither down from your waist to over your ass, pressing your hips into his.

You’d never thought kissing someone could feel this good. Your entire body feels aflame as you both discover each others mouths piece by piece. Jungkook’s walked you backwards against the wall, holding you up against it firmly as you both continue to kiss each other feverishly. You rest your head against the wall as his lips move from yours to your neck, your breathing intensifying as he kisses and nips gently.

“Jungkook,” you breathe heavily, as he places a kiss on your exposed shoulder, moving the flimsily strap to your top down. You get bolder with your own actions, maneuvering your hands underneath his shirt feeling his muscles tense under your touch.

His lips find yours again, “I wanted this for so long Y/N,” he mumbles against your skin as you pull him taut to you. “Remember sophomore year? When you kissed me for that dare?”

“Mhm,” you murmur in response as his hand experimentally trails its way up to cup your left breast, “How could I forget?” You tell him through a slight whine when he squeezes you through the thin material of your top.

He smirks against your lips, tugging on your bottom lip ever so slightly, “I was so happy when you didn’t drink that bitch cup,” he admits. You can’t help but giggle at his words, one of your hands resting on the back of his neck to hold him close to you, “And this is much better than that.”

You nip at his mouth again, “I agree,” you pause, your other hand playing with the buttons on his shirt, “Can I take this off?” You ask through your lashes; your voice soft and patient.

Jungkook emits deep groan from his throat, “Is this okay with you?” He suddenly asks.

You immediately nod, “Yes, yes, of course,” you begin your slow assault at his shirt buttons, undoing them one at a time.

He kisses your forehead, “Okay… I just,” he pauses, “I’m just a little nervous,” he admits as he grapples at your waist again, pulling you flush against him. He’s got a growing bulge in his pants, making your squeeze your thighs together.

“Why are you nervous?” You gaze at him with stars in your eyes, finding everything about him endearing and so lovable.

He rests his forehead against yours, “I don’t know I’ve just thought about this for forever,” he pauses, “I want you to feel safe.”

You smile sweetly at him, “I always feel safe with you Jungkook,” you tell him reassuringly. You lean forward, placing a kiss on his exposed chest when you finally undo the last button. You waste no time pushing the fabric off his golden skin, tattoos and all on fully display.

“When did you get so hot?” You pout in between his kisses along your neck and collarbone. He chuckles into your skin, his hands now exploring both of your breasts through the fabric.

“I’ve been wondering the same with you,” he kisses right between your cleavage, his fingers finding the zipper at the back of your top.

“Please—“ your breath hitches when the cold air makes your nipples taut as he drags your shirt away, “Have you seen yourself?” You’ve barely finish your sentence until Jungkook’s lips are wrapping around your right nipple, sucking and teething at the sensitive.

“Have you seen yourself Y/N?” He mumbles into your skin, paying attention to your left nipple now. “My pretty girl,” he breathes out pulling away from you, sending a fire through your veins. He grabs your hands and pulls you towards the bed not too far from the wall.

You straddle him as you reconnect your lips together, rutting against him as your hips grind down. A shiver of pleasure runs through you, a subtle moan vanishing in his mouth.

“Fuck,” he says, “Do that again, I like hearing you.”

You chuckle, kissing near his ear, “Make me,” you challenge. Jungkook bites his lip, the grip on your hips tightening.

Being as competitive as he is—it’s a challenge he’s willing to accept.

Jungkook is suddenly flipping you two over, settling between your thighs, tits shaking as you readjust yourself. You spread your legs a little so he can sit comfortably on his knees between you, his bulge more prominent than ever, straining in his white pants. Your mouth literally waters as his hands push up your skirt, exposing your skimpy little lace thong that’s barely covering your cunt at this point.

“Goddamn,” he gulps at the sight, his eyes flicking to yours quickly as your chest rises up and down in anticipation. You’re already so turned on—so wet just for him. If it was any other guy, you’d probably feel embarrassed but you were telling them truth when you said you felt safe with him.

His tattooed hand slides down to your inner thigh, a couple of his fingers running over your clothed heat. Your hips cant outwards as he does this a couple times before he decides to ultimately pull your panties off, leaving them strung across the room somewhere.

You hold his gaze as he spits onto his fingertips, now finding your bare pussy exposed for him in all its glory. He doesn’t waste time in dipping a finger inside you to test the waters. When your mouth falls open, he takes it as a good sign when you start to beg him for more.

“Jungkook please,” you push out your hips, trying to get the most of one finger though it’s no use. “I need more,” you whine.

He leans down, placing a kiss to your lips, “I know baby, I know,” you gasp when he adds in another finger, a steady strong of moans escaping you when he begins a gentle rhythm in and out of you. It’s torture the way it feels so so good, yet it’s still leaving you wanting more.

He gets a hold of your right leg, holding it up slightly so he can penetrate deeper inside with his fingers, his thumb rubbing up against the hood of your clit.

“Hold yourself open for me baby,” he says to which you obey, holding onto the side of your leg just as he was, “Good girl,” he praises you, which creates even more slick arousal.

From here, he takes one of his hands to pull your clitoral hood open, using his other to circle your bud and enter your pussy in alternating motions.

“Ah, shit—“ your hips jerk against him when you begin to feel yourself start to climb that hill to an orgasm. Your continuously moaning was sending him mad and your glistening cunt was a full invitation for him.

He shifts his weight, his lips meeting your center to which your back arches off the mattress, a strained whine from you as he flicks his tongue over your clit. It’s obscene the way he gives you head—it’s hot and messy, little to no friction as he goes from focus on your hole with both his fingers and mouth, to sucking heavily on your clit. You could feel yourself dripping on the sheets underneath you, the wetness making Jungkook involuntarily push his cock into the mattress.

“Jungkook—I’m gonna come,” you manage through your tight breaths.

“Yeah baby?” He muses against you, the vibration of his voice sending a shockwave through your already swollen clit. You nod desperately into the bed, holding his head down with your left hand as your hips chase to meet his movements.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” chants fall from your lips when you feel yourself tip over the edge, falling heavily into an orgasm that overtakes your entire body. You don’t even care if you’re loud as you moan and rile beneath him, your pussy clenching around his fingers before he pulls them out to watch your cunt clench around nothing.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he marvels as you come down from your high, your body clearly relaxed now as you find time to catch your breath. You lean up on your elbows as he meets you halfway to kiss you again. He tastes like you as he tongues the inside of your mouth carefully.

You scoot your body down some, hands finding the front of his pants. You can tell he’s big just by running your hand over his cock through the clothes. He inhales a sharp intake of breath when you squeeze him a little. You break your kiss to focus on getting him out of the fabric, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants quickly. You take notice of his white Calvin Kleins as he helps you push them down past his ankles.

In a rush, you tug down the front of his boxers—breath hitching in the back of your throat. He was big—the biggest you’ve ever seen—thick and long between his muscular set of thighs.

You whine when you take him in, never experiencing a want for someone so badly in your entire life.

“Can I please suck it?” You whisper, your words sounding like sweet saccharine to his ears. As tempting as that sounds for him, he wasn’t sure how long he would last with you, and he needed to be inside of your pussy when he came.

“Not right now baby,” he says firm in his tone, “I want to be inside you so bad,” he sounds just as desperate as you feel.

You nod quickly as you begin to take your skirt off since it’s still the last piece of clothing on you. Jungkook’s hands stop you quickly.

“No, no,” he chuckles, “Gonna fuck you in this pretty skirt,” he places a zealous kiss on your lips one more time before he suddenly gets up hurrying over to one of his duffle bags. He returns quickly and you watch carefully as you notice him tearing open a condom packet, his abs visible each time he breathes.

“You brought condoms?” You ask him curiously.

He smirks as he begins to roll it down over his fully hardened cock, “I’ve been bringing them with us everywhere since we went to Europe,” he explains as he instructs you to scoot back some. The thought makes you feel bubbly on the inside, laughing at him some.

“So you’ve just assumed that we’re gonna fuck one day then?” You ask him as he settles between you, rubbing his tip against your folds.

He closes his eyes briefly, before smirking again, “Never assumed, just hoped,” he lines himself up with your entrance, having to fight not to just slam right into you, “I’ll start slow okay?”

You nod as you grip behind his neck and shoulder with each hand. Once Jungkook begins to push into you, you literally forget how to breathe. Jungkook groans as he bites his lip in full concentration, pushing a little farther.

“It’s okay, breathe baby,” he encourages, “I know you can take it. My baby can take it, right?”

He knows very well you can—he just wants to hear you say it in your voice that’s laced in honey and arousal for him.

You nod faster that you ever had, “God, yes Jungkook I can, yes I can,” you finally find your oxygen as he pushes in slowly to the hilt. Your jaw was slack as his forehead rests against your own, a burning between your legs but pleasurable enough that you begin to involuntarily clench around him.

“Shit baby, don’t do that,” he warns, “This tight little pussy is all mine, right?”

“Of course Jungkook—“ he pulls back, then pushing back in, your hips canting upward to help him fulfill every inch inside you. “Oh my god—“ you whimper as he slowly begins to find his pace.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yes, fuck yes, Jungkook just please don’t stop,” you beg, “Go faster, please.”

One of his hands grip your right hip, the other fisting the sheets by your head as he does as he’s told, picking his pace up slowly but surely as the seconds pass. Its blissful heaven having him fill you up so good. You’d never thought you’d be in this position with Jungkook, but as time passes you wish that you two had got around to it a lot sooner.

With each snap of his hips, your body moves upwards given force. A mantra of noises come from you as you watch his brows furrow from above you, strained groans and breathes escaping his lips. You could feel the simmering of another orgasm approaching you as his perfect stroke hits your g-spot. You grab at his face to steady him; his pace thrown off a bit when you lean up to kiss his lips gently.

“Let me get on top,” you whisper to him. He tugs on your lip, unsure if he wants to give up control but with you, he’d relinquish any day. He pulls out, leaving you hallow with you quickly pushing him off of you and down to the mattress. His back is rested against the pillows and headboard to which you grab with one hand, using your another hand to line yourself back up with him.

After you sink down, your arousal making it easy this time—you begin to find a pace against him that’s calculated to hit your insides in all the right areas. Jungkook grips your hips, pushing your skirt up slightly as he marvels up at you, drunk in a haze of you and you only. With uneven breaths, you can tell you’re on the verge of coming again, so he licks his thumb before he places it on your clit. Each touch of your hips presses firmly against his finger, explicative falling from your lips in a rush.

“God—Jungkook, I-I can’t,” you choke out, squeezing around him tightly as he begins to push his own hips up to meet yours.

One of his hands makes it way to your throat, pulling your forehead down to his as he takes the oxygen away from you. It’s too much—it’s all too much.

“Yes baby, you can,” he encourages, “My pretty girl, come with me,” he adds after he begins to hold you in place some, shoving his hips up in a brutal pace to chase his own climax.

It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit, hit tipping backwards as you let out a half-scream of his name, jumbled together with high pitched moans. It goes on longer than your last one, convulsing around his cock as you lean forward in a daze.

Jungkook’s close—his lip tucked into his teeth, brows deeply furrowed as he continues his pace up inside you. With a bated breath, he announces he’s going to come and you encourage him just as he did you. He spills into the condom with a whiney groan in submission to you, his movements coming to end an end shortly after he rides his climax out.

He’s got his arms wrapped around your torso and you cradle him to your chest as you both try to catch your breaths. He lifts your hips slightly to let himself fall out of you, though he keeps you close to him after, looking up at you through a lazy smile.

You return one to him, meeting your lips to his. The kiss is gentle and love worthy as your heart swells so much it feels like it could burst for the man beneath you.

You pull away from him, “Can I take this skirt off now?”

He chuckles before nodding, placing a kiss on your shoulder before you move off of him to discard the final article of clothing on your frame. You climb back into bed after you throw on a slinky tank top and use the bathroom—a UTI was not going to plague you. Jungkook pulls on a pair of briefs, opening his arms up to you once he climbs back in. You cuddle up right next to him, an arm slung around his bare chest, leg over his as he pulls you closer with one arm. The two you mindlessly talk about nothing before you feel yourself drifting off to sleep. The last thing you recall is Jungkook placing a kiss on your head, telling you that he loves you again, leaving little to no space between each other this time on the bed.

∞

The bright sun is what wakes you up the next morning, a strained mumble coming from you as you stretch out on the bed. You’re halfway on your back, halfway on your side when you open your eyes. You rub them with your knuckles to clear them of any matter. When the room fully focuses, you freeze in your position, stomach dropping a little bit. Your head hurts from the alcohol but it wasn’t enough alcohol to make you forget what happened.

You and Jungkook had had sex and professed pining love to each other.

You quickly turn over to find yourself alone in the bed, your anxiety and cortisol levels skyrocketing. You also take notice that Jungkook’s not out on the balcony that connects to the room. You sit up a little too quickly for your headache, taking a moment to steady yourself.

You grab your phone off the nightstand, checking the time and any messages you have. There’s only a few that you decide you’ll answer later. Nothing from Jungkook.

You push the sheets and duvet off your frame, hurrying over to your suitcase to pull on a pair of shorts. You quickly make your way out of the bedroom, finding the living and kitchen space empty. Maybe he was in the bathroom?

“Jungkook?” You call out. No answer.

You suddenly feel like you’re going to get sick. Insecurity and all other horrifying thoughts cross your brain. Did he leave you here? Did he get scared and go home? Did he really fuck you only to leave you?

You feel like you could cry as you lean onto the couch for support. You hold back your tears, breathing heavily in and out to keep yourself calm.

Where the fuck—

The door to the cottage is suddenly unlocked, pushing open to reveal your best friend in all his glory. He’s dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, carrying a brown bag in one hand, balancing two coffees on his arm.

“Oh, good morning!” He flashes his million dollar smile at you as he sets down all of his belongings on the kitchen island.

You stand there with a pout, not saying anything to him. He looks at you slightly confused, walking over to see what’s wrong.

“Are you okay?” He asks with concern, grabbing gently behind your elbows.

You push at his chest with flat palms, “I thought you left me,” you whine. A smile cracks open as he laughs some.

“Why would I have left you?” He questions you, “I just went and got us some breakfast while you were still sleeping,” he explains.

“Well I can see that now,” you push back, “I just thought.. maybe you got scared and left,” you trail off, looking away from him now that you feel a little dumb for jumping to such horrible conclusions.

Jungkook pulls you in for a hug to which you return it like a kid grabbing onto their teddy bear tightly.

“I would never do that Y/N,” he says placing a kiss to your head, squeezing you playfully as he sways you dramatically, “I’m kind of offended that you think I would,” he then says with a pinch to your ass cheek.

“Ow!” You push yourself off of him with a laugh, “Sorry, it’s just,” you chew on your lip when you meet his gaze, “I don’t really know how to go about this whole friends to lovers thing.”

He pulls you to the kitchen so you two can begin to eat your breakfast. The coffee is great; just what you needed to cure your headache.

“It’s simple,” he says as he sits down beside you after he’s placed your breakfast sandwiches out.

“Is it really?” You push through a mouthful of food—gross you know, but Jungkook was the last person to care.

He quirks that pierced eyebrow at you that just drives you absolutely mad, “Hell yeah. We’re still best friends we’re just gonna have lots of sex now.”

You look at him stunned before you both are laughing hysterically together. Maybe he is right. Simple. As the two of you eat your breakfast, you can’t help but feel so very happy but also so very sad. The two of you have created a bubble of paradise and it’s going to burst as soon as you get back on the plane to head back home.

“Jungkook,” you say, turning the conversation serious after you both have finished your meals. He responds with a hm? “I’m still moving after the summer,” you bring it up hesitantly given how touchy it is; but there was no escaping and hiding from the truth. You were leaving; Jungkook was staying here.

He tenses up in his seat, pursing his lips as he glances over at you, “That’s another reason Junghyun called me last night,” he begins. You look at him confused, asking what he means, “I’ve been thinking about telling you about my feelings for so long Y/N, and I clearly have shit timing,” he laughs ironically, “But Junghyun has known for awhile now—I think before I even knew it but um,” he pauses, “He made me promise to him that by the end of this trip that I would tell you, so he was on my ass about it last night.”

You smile at him sweetly, resting your hand over his, “Well now you can tell him you kept that promise,” you offer.

His gaze doesn’t quite meet yours, “Yeah, but that’s not all,” he pauses as you listen to him, “I’ve been applying to jobs in New York,” he admits.

Your lips part as your eyes widen, “What?” You’re nearly breathless as you ask the question—feeling like Jungkook took a baseball bat to your chest. “Why would you do that?” You press.

He swallows heavily, “I just, I knew whenever you said you were going there that I just couldn’t not try with you,” he pauses, his gaze looking almost apologetic, “I didn’t want to be four thousand miles away from you so I panicked and started applying for jobs there,” he explains, “I don’t want you to be mad, and I’ve already talked to my family about it and they’re all okay with it,” he says in a rush, “I just didn’t want you to be alone there, whether I confessed my feelings to you or not.”

He’s chewing on his lip and you can tell he’s nervous. You turn over his palm so you can intertwine your fingers together, giving him a soft gaze.

“While this has completely caught me off guard,” you say honestly, “I would never be mad at you over this,” you squeeze his hand for reassurance, “Did you really apply to jobs there because of me?”

He nods a few times before he hangs his head low. You take your other hand and push his shorter fringe away from his face. While you’re positive many more details have to be worked out, that fact Jungkook made this decision makes you feel an amount of butterflies and love you’ve never experienced before.

“And you’d for sure want to be in New York?”

He looks up at you with those big doe-eyes that haven’t changed from the day you met him, “I’d go wherever you were Y/N. It could be the worst fucking place in world and I’d go there with you.”

You lean over, pressing your lips to his gently.

“I love you.”

He smiles in return, “I love you more.”

You pout some, “That’s not fair—no one is allowed to ‘love more’.”

He kisses you again gently as he pulls you from the bar stool to stand between his legs. His hands squeeze your ass playfully as you try to pull away.

“Well I can be the exception,” he leans into you, his arms wrapping around you protectively. You roll your eyes, a short laugh escaping your lips.

“You know what this means?” You ask inquisitively.

“What?”

“Lots of sex to be had,” you emphasis, “And even more of blowjobs.”

His eyes widen, his jaw slightly clenching and you swear he whines as he looks up at you, pressing your front to his crotch, “Can we start that sooner than later?”

You give him your answer through another kiss and moving your hands at the waistband of his pants. God, you think as you take in the already domesticated environment you two have made together, you could really get used to this. Jeon Jungkook was your best friend and at the end of the day—all you two needed was each other and somewhere to go.

4K notes · View notes

cashcart1er · 11 months

Text

Surprise Y/N (Part I)

Gf!Riri, Bestfriend!Shuri, Blood, Gore, Drug Use, Explicit Language, Main Character Deaths, Sexual Content, Ghostface Shuriri?

This was inspired by @killmongerskeepermain Ghostface story and Scream I. Enjoy!

'Two Apalachee High school students Jamie Lynch and Brady Harrison found dead in the Lynch household on 7th street. They were stabbed multiple times in multiple places. There is no known suspect yet, but there a Halloween mask found at the scene-

You switched the TV off sighing. They have been blowing every TV channel with this. Of course it sucked that they died, though You didn't really know them but that doesn't make it any better. "Damn, this is one crazy town I swear" Your friend Jerome spoke up while sparking up a blunt. "Hey, you okay? we haven't had a casualty like this since..."

Your girlfriend Riri was talking about your father. Your father died a year ago from being brutally murdered by a serial killer named Ray Holland. You weren't ever the same that day and it showed. Ever since that day you never let a door go unlocked or a window left open.

"I'm fine baby. Do you feel like getting me sprite?" She nodded giving you a kiss before getting up to go to the kitchen. "Nigga I know we ain't letting this sleepover go to waste over some classmates we ain't even know. Rest In Peace and shit but we gathered each other to have fun not slump in your seats" You gasped from your friend Mariah's lack of sympathy.

"Have a heart Mariah that ain't cool. She is right about us coming to have fun though. When is Kai and Shuri comi-" Jerome was cut off when the door swung in. "Your favorite people just arrived! Did y'all pick out the horror movie?" You did forget about the movie you guys were supposed to watch. Luckily Riri had one.

"What's up twin. Yeah I got a movie to watch and it's called Scream. It's basically about the same mask from the news" Jerome scoffed, "That movie was so unoriginal. The girl goes answering calls that don't need to be answered but somehow every time the killer comes she slips away while all of her other friends get slaughtered. They never follow the main rules of a horror movie. 1. Don't pick up the phone 2. Keep them doors locked and 3. Don't say you'll be right back. Because you probably won't" Everyone rolled they eyes and greeted each other happily before sitting down. "Alright lets get this shit started!" Shuri shouted causing everyone to chuckle.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Alright I'll see you guys tomorrow at school" Everyone said their goodbyes as they left your house. "Be safe baby. I'll see you tomorrow?" You nodded giving her a deep kiss pulling away only after I lost breath but she pulled me back in kissing on my neck. "You know I can stay here with you" You felt her smirk on your neck as she pecked at it. "Mm it's okay Ri. My cousin is coming here soon to watch me until my mom gets back Sunday" You pulled away patting her on her soft cheeks. "You positive?" She pouted making You laugh as you nodded. "Alright Ma. I love you" Riri replied walking to her car. "I love you too"

You closed the front door and locked it before cleaning up the living room. A couple minutes passed and in the middle of picking up some cups, your phone rung. "It's like 9:00 at night who the hell is calling at this time?" You pick up the phone answering it. "Hello?" You start. "Hey Y/N it's Darnea I just clocked out. Coming over right now. I did get us some snacks in case you had the munchies" You smiled lightly before speaking. "Alright, I'll see you when you get here" You hung up and threw the cups in the trash.

RING RING

The phone rung once again making you think she forgot to tell you something. "Darnea just get in your car-" "Hello Y/N" An unfamiliar raspy male voice spoke sending a chill over your body. "Uh Hi? May I ask who's calling?" the person only chuckled as a response. "Such a spooky night isn't it? It's almost like..it was straight out of a horror movie or something" You were sure it was Jerome just trying to mess with you after the mention of scary movies.

"Jerome if you don't get yo ass off of my phone. It is you ain't it?" You asked. "Do you like scary movies Y/N?" Who you think is Jerome spoke in a deep, sulky tone. "I like what you're doing with your voice J. It's kinda sexy. Don't tell Ri I said that before she jumps to conclusions" You snicker. "What type of scary movies do you like?" You rolled your eyes at all of his questions that he would know. "J you know I barely watch those. The one we watched today got on my nerves. Besides, they're all the same" You shrugged walking over to the couch.

"Are you alone in the house?" You sigh at the typical movie lines he's throwing at you. "J you're supposed to be an expert of movies why are you being so unoriginal?" You plop on the couch waiting for his response. "Maybe that's because I'm not Jerome" You sat back up just as fast as you sat down. "Uh well then who the hell are you?" You ask as you look throughout your windows. "The question 'Who am I' is never more important than the question 'Where am I'" A part of you still thought it was Jerome but you were still on edge. "Fine, where are you?"

"Your front porch"

This could easily be a joke but that didn't stop you from starting to get a little bit nervous. The only reason your black behind crept to the front door was because this wasn't the first time your friends pulled this bullshit. You opened the door slowly as you skimmed the front porch finding nobody. An idea popped up in your head causing you to smirk.

"Can you see me right now?"

"Uh huh" they replied.

"Yeah okay then what am I doing?" You stuck a finger up your nose waiting for a response but to no avail. "Helloo what am I doing?" You looked around giggling. "Stop playing J you ain't slick. Bye" Your finger was hovering over the end call button. "If you hang up you'll die just like your fucking father bitch!" You froze realizing this wasn't Jerome at all. It was a whole psychopath. "Fuck you nigga" You hung up anyways and scurried back inside locking the door behind yourself.

As you were taking a deep breath, you heard footsteps behind causing you to dart your head that way. To your surprise it was the killer from the news and the movie. Blood was rushing to every part of your body as the killer swung their knife. You barely dodge it but they grabbed your body slamming you onto the floor. The killer got on top of you as you both fought.

The killer locked their hands in your locs bringing your head up and back down ferociously bringing pain to your cranium also making your vision blurry. They dragged their knife across your body before getting ready to cut you open. You snapped back in time and kicked them in their stomach. You took the chance to open the front door but the lock wouldn't budge.

They got up and tried to stick the knife into you but you dodge running up the stairs but they were right behind you. You locked your bedroom behind you pulling out your phone to call 911. The unknown person banged the door slowly busting it down. "911 what's your emergency?" "Help me this guy is trying to kill me with a knife!" You yelled scared for your life. "We have a unit in your neighborhood they will be their in a couple seconds"

When you looked at the door, the person in the mask was gone. There was a thud at your window making you yelp. It was Riri and she looked confused as she climbed in. "What the hell is going on? I was coming back to return those notes I borrowed but I heard screaming" You hugged her tightly letting tears run down your cheeks to her shirt. Her phone dropped making you look at it. You were in shock when you saw that her phone said call ended the same time you ended the call with the dude in the mask.

It couldn't be...Could it?

You slowly removed yourself from her grip making her brows furrow. "What?" she ask but you were in too much fear to speak. "Wait don't go Y/N stop!" You ran out the room to the front door yelping because a police officer surprised you. "Rico help me!" You knew the officer because he was your cousins' brother. "It's okay we got this. Lets go!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ow fuck!" They arrested Riri as she winced from the force. "Do you wish to give up the right to remain silent?" Rico asked before leading her to the sheriff. "I didn't do anything. tell them Y/N! Sheriff call these guys off" The sheriff shook his head no signaling the other officers to put her in the car. "Wait! At least call my mom for me" They put her in the car as you just sat and watched. "Y/N please! Y/N" The officer drove off with her still calling your name.

Rico approached You after sending Riri to the station. "Hey, you alright? You might have to come to the station to answer some questions" You nodded as a response. Your cousin approached the house in her car. You chuckled a bit when she went under the tape with no hesitation. "Oh my gosh Y/N are you okay?" She asked. "Other than almost getting stabbed to death, I'm good" You joke trying to calm your nerves but that only did so much.

"D you can't be here. This is officially a crime scene" She scoffs at her brother. "Nigga please. She's staying with us for the night" Her brother rolls his eyes at her antics. "C'mon let's get you to the station"

#riri williams #riri wiliams x reader #shuri x reader #shuri udaku #shuri x y/n

115 notes · View notes

hes-a-rainbow · 2 years

Text

Crimson And Clover

(photo not owned by me but edited by me)

Summary: Eddie is shocked to see the girl of his dreams just standing there in the Hawkins High parking lot and even more surprised when she seems to know Henderson. (I suck at these!)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Language, fluff, hot girls, stupid boys.

A/N: Not me coming out of retirement for Eddie Munson...I wrote this in like two hours and it’s probably shit and definitely not edited but it’s been rolling around in my head since before vol. 2.

Dedicated to @harry-writings because not only was it her birthday yesterday but she’s the only person I can freak out about Eddie with ❤️‍🔥

“All I’m saying is why give pop quizzes if you know nobody knows the material? It’s like she’s setting us up to fail.” Eddie rambles on as he leans his weight on the steel doors leading out to the parking lot. There is a consistent buzzing of chatter all around him as students rush to make their buses on time. Gareth and Jeff walk on either side of him, all three decked out in their Hellfire t-shirts, courtesy of Gareth’s mom.

Eddie doesn’t let his companions say anything before he adds, “And that’s the problem with authority nowadays, man. You give some lonely widow the tiniest bit of power and she acts like she’s the fucking president or something.” All three boys pause as a school bus rushes past them narrowly avoiding hitting a junior on a bike. Eddie swears the bus drivers hate this place almost as much as he does. They continue walking through the gust of smoke released by the bus and head towards the back of the student parking lot, towards Eddie’s beat up van.

The sun is beating down hard on them as summer heads for Hawkins at full speed. Eddie only has to endure one more month of this hellhole before he can finally break free. Just him, his guitar, and his van as they take on the open road. Or at least that’s what he keeps telling himself, but Ms. O’Donnell seems to be going out of her way just to sabotage his plans of finally graduating.

“Dude, I literally told you this morning she was giving out pop quizzes to all her classes. I told you to study during lunch instead of going out for that deal.” Gareth tries to reason with his older friend, but Eddie shrugs it off easily, “And miss out on $30 bucks? Fuck no! And what the hell is Hamlet gonna teach me about the real world anyway? I swear she’s had it out for me since sophomore english…” Eddie trails off as he notices his friends abruptly stop beside him. He takes another step before turning back, “What?”

Both Gareth and Jeff look star struck, completely dazed as they stare off into the distance.

“Who is that?” Eddie’s not sure if Jeff’s genuinely asking him or speaking out loud. When Eddie first looks over to where the two boys are transfixed, he’s not entirely sure what they’re looking at. He sees some cheerleaders grouped together, probably talking shit about one of their ‘friends’, and a small group of freshmen who still haven’t hit their growth spurts yet. He opens his mouth to ask the boys what the hell they are going on about when he finally sees her.

She’s leaning up against an old red car, cigarette up to her lips as she scans the crowd. She has multiple rings on, that seem to glisten in the sunlight as she takes a puff. A large pair of aviator glasses shield her eyes, not the reflective ones, but the ones with the large brown frames that you can’t tell who she's actually looking at.

She’s far enough away that he can’t get a good enough look but if she looks pretty from here, she must be gorgeous up close. Her brown hair looks messy but also like maybe she styled it to look that way. She’s definitely giving off an ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude as she removes the cigarette from her lips to blow out a puff of smoke. She has one arm crossed around her torso, blocking most of her shirt but Eddie can recognize that signature lightning strike from anywhere.

Eddie has lived his entire life in Hawkins and he has never, never, seen a girl wearing an AC/DC shirt. Most of the people around town thought their music was some type of satanic shit, which honestly, only made Eddie like them even more. He was starting to think girls like her only existed in big cities like LA or New York, definitely not in Indiana.

She was every wet dream he’s ever had and now she was standing there looking completely out of place but also like she somehow belonged. Eddie finally notices the whispers and points around them as the other students take note of the mystery girl. If she notices, she doesn’t react, just takes another hit from her cigarette as she again searches the crowd. Eddie can feel his stomach drop at the thought of her waiting on some asshold jock boyfriend.

Who was this girl? And what the fuck was she doing at Hawkins high?

Now one of the most unfortunate things about being a thrice over senior, is Eddie is aware of every person who is coming and going from this school. With less than 200 kids per grade and Hawkins being such a small town, everybody knows everything about each other and he knows for a fact he’s never seen her before.

It’s like she can hear all of his thoughts out loud because she’s suddenly staring right at him. He can hear Gareth’s breath catch from beside him as she goes to stomp out her cigarette, a small smile breaking over her face. If she was beautiful before, doing something as mundane as smoking, her smiling face was enough to nearly knock Eddie over.

She pushes herself off the car, and Eddie can’t help but think that maybe this is a dream, something straight out of Fast Times, as the smile remains and she takes a few steps towards them.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit…” Jeff lisp starts becoming thicker as he seemingly tries to wrap his head around the image of this goddess walking towards them. Eddie is convinced this has to be a prank, some stupid joke on the Hellfire club because they didn’t fit in like the ‘cool’ kids. He wouldn’t put it past Jason Carver to do such a thing but his mind rears at how Jason would even know someone like her.

She’s still smiling as she gets closer, she has to be a little over ten feet away from them by now. “Do you know her?” Gareth whispers from beside Eddie, voice cracking lightly.

“I–Um–,” Eddie feels like he’s visibly stumbling as he tries to make out any type of coherent sentence, but nothing seems to be working. And then the craziest thing happens.

She waves at them.

She fucking waves at them.

Jeff makes a sound and Eddie swears that if Jeff passes out right now he will literally kill him for embarrassing him in front of this girl. This girl who he has absolutely no shot with but hey, a guy can dream.

As if under her spell, all three of the boys automatically lift their arms up to wave back at her. They all notice at the same time, and with their arms still up in the air, they look over at each other, “She was waving at me!” Gareth starts before Jeff interrupts him, “No, she was not! She was very clearly looking directly at me.” Eddie opens his mouth to argue that she was obviously waving at him, when their attention is turned back to her by her yelling a name across the lot.

“Henderson!” Her voice booms across the lot as more and more people take notice of her.

Gareth jaw nearly hits the ground, “What the fuck?”

Jeff quickly follows with, “She’s here for Henderson?!”

“Is this the mormon chick from Utah?”

“No way, mormons don’t dress like that.”

“And what do you know about Mormons?”

“I’ll have you know my mother’s cousin is a Mormon—” Eddie tunes out the two bickering boys beside him as he finally takes his eyes off of her, turning to look in the direction she was headed. Because it wasn’t towards them, it was towards his tiny little proteges and the newest members of the Hellfire Club, Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler.

“Henderson!” He can hear her calling out again behind him, this time closer and louder as she finally gets the freshmans attention.

“Holy shit!” He watches as Dustin starts to run, or what can only Eddie can only qualify as a run/shuffle hybrid, towards the beautiful girl.

Eddie is absolutely perplexed, mindblown, insanely confused. Because how the fuck does this girl know Henderson?

Dustin doesn’t even seem to notice his fellow club members as he meets the girl in a hug just a few steps away from them. They embrace for a few moments and Eddie swears time has stopped as the entire school watches the insane scene unfold before them.

Henderson pulls away from the girl, putting his hands on her shoulders as he seemingly examines her to make sure she’s really in front of him, “What the fuck are you doing here?! I thought you weren’t coming until Saturday?”

“I took my last final earlier today and drove straight from Indianapolis to surprise you! I haven’t even seen Claudia yet.” Her voice was melodic as she refers to Dustin’s mother who Eddie has been outright banned from ever meeting due to the fact that Dustin insists he won’t be able to do Hellfire Club anymore if his mother got a look at their president.

“Holy shit, dude. This is amazing!” Dustin pulls her in for another hug which she gladly accepts. She looks over his shoulder at Mike, a surprise gasp escaping her, “And look at you, Wheeler! Holy shit man, you’re taller than me!” She releases Dustin and drags Mike into a hug that he awkwardly accepts but somehow still looks like he’s hugging his grandmother. She pulls away but keeps him at arm's length, “How’s the family? Did Nancy graduate yet?”

Eddie finally snaps back to reality, knowing that this is his only shot. Now he may have failed senior year twice already, but he was no idiot. He takes a deep breath as he walks towards the trio. “Eddie!” He hears Jeff whisper yell behind him. But he’s too close to them now, Dustin’s already spotted him and it would be too obvious if he were to just turn and go the other way.

“Eddie!” Dustin exclaims, arms up in the air and greeting Eddie like they hadn't just eaten lunch together two hours ago. “Henderson!” Eddie responds, laying a hand on Dustin’s head to shake his cap around a bit. The girl finally steps away from Mike, seemingly giving him a break from her interrogation about his family. She moves her sunglasses up into her hair, giving Eddie the perfect few of her face. She was beautiful in an effortless way, and her smile, it was something Eddie would never forget and something he wanted directed towards him a thousand times over. His stomach flips as she makes eye contact with him.

With her sunglasses off, she squints her eyes as she looks him over, “Eddie?” His heart skips a beat as she says his name. “As in the Dungeon Master?” Her tone is mocking but the fact that she even knows who he is makes his knees nearly give out right there on the concrete. A smile overtakes his face that he can barely keep contained, “In the flesh,” He holds his hand out, a gentleman as always, “And you are…”

Her eyes glide from his outreached hand back towards his face and she reaches up her hand to shake his firmly. The rings on both of their fingers clink together as they meet grasps.

“Honey.”

“Honey?” Eddie’s eyebrows come together not fully understanding the joke, or if there even is one. Dustin perks up beside him, “She’s my cousin! Honey Henderson!”

“Yeah…my parents are kind of hippies.” A small blush rises on her cheeks and Eddie nearly dies a happy man knowing that he caused her to be flustered. Their hands are still moving together in the air as Eddie tries out her name, “Honey Henderson.”

“In the flesh.” Eddie huffs out a laugh as she repeats his words back to him. A throat clears besides them as Dustin speaks up again, “Yeah so, since you’re here early,” Dustin pauses for dramatic effect as he holds his hands out in front of him, “can you drive me and Mike to Hellfire tonight?”

The young woman is snapped out of whatever trance she is in and abruptly pulls her hand out of Eddie’s, placing both of her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

“Yeah, of course. You two are literally the only people I know around here so, consider me your chauffeur.” Honey does a little mock bow that has Dustin giggling. Eddie could barely see any resemblance in their looks but he’s starting to see the classic Henderson sense of humor sneak through.

“I’m Jeff,” The four of them jump as Jeff and Gareth seem to pop up out of nowhere beside them, their conversation about Mormonism seemingly solved.

Honey smiles towards them both, reaching her hand out in a friendly greeting, “Hi Jeff!” Eddie swears he sees Jeff’s knees shaking as he shakes Honeys’ hand. She releases her grip and turns to point at Gareth, “And you must be…Gareth?” Gareth nods slightly and Eddie can see the blush rising across his face.

“Awesome! Dusty’s told me so much about you guys!”

“Really? Because he hasn’t told us anything about you...” Jeff trails off when Eddie hits him in the arm.

She puts a hand on her chest in mock annoyance as she speaks directly to Dustin, “Really Dusty? No love for your favorite cousin?”

Dustin quickly tries to justify his actions, “You’re my only cousin!” Honey wraps an arm around his neck, bringing Dustin into a headlock, “Yeah, and it still counts you little shit.” Dustin quickly taps out, slipping out of the headlock and out of reach from Honey.

She’s still laughing when she turns back towards the three older boys, “It was nice meeting you guys,” Her gaze slides over to Eddie and he holds his breath as she looks him up and down. “I’ll see you guys around.” Before Eddie can even fathom that she just obviously checked him out, she’s turning towards where her car is parked, slipping her sunglasses back on and walking further away from them.

“We’ll see you guys later!” Dustin calls over his shoulder and Mike gives them a quiet wave as they follow Honey towards the car like lost puppies.

Gareth, Jeff, and Eddie stand in the middle of the parking lot as they watch Honey get into her car with Dustin and Mike scrambling in shortly after. She doesn’t look back over at them as the car turns over and Eddie heards the distinctive call of Ozzy Osbourne’s voice playing over her car speakers. The car quickly drives off but Eddie can swear he sees a small smirk on her lips as they turn out of the parking lot and disappear out of sight.

“She’s–”

“That was–”

Jeff and Gareth both start at the same time before Eddie finishes for them, “A fucking rock goddess.”

This might be a collection of short one shots but who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#tada!#sorry if it sucks #I haven't written in 5ever #Eddie munson #Eddie munson oneshot #eddie Munson one shot #Eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson blurb #Eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson fanfiction #Eddie munson smut #Eddie munson x oc #Eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x henderson!reader #my stuff

102 notes · View notes

xoxo-author · 1 year

Text

Lonely

I have finally decided to start branching out and writing for more characters! I am definitely obsessed with Rafe from Outerbanks... not the murderer part...

Rafe Cameron x Reader(f)

Fic is based off of Lonely by Justin Bieber

Warnings: Drugs, Language( I think 1 word), Wheezie acting out of character

Wheezie?"

I squint as I pull back my phone to see if the call was still connected after not getting a response. "Wheezie, what is it?"

I hear her take in a shaky breath and a sniffle, making me realize that this is something serious as Wheezie never cries.

"Rafe relapsed."

That is all it took for me to spring up from my bed, grab my car keys, and rush out the door while telling Wheezie to stay on the phone with me.

My mind raced with what seemed like a million ideas as to why Rafe had relapsed, the majority of my ideas all centered around Ward. Rafe was doing so well. He got clean, graduated high school at the top of his class, had multiple offers to colleges, and scouts looking into him for the major leagues of Lacrosse. I was so proud of him for getting his life back on track. It literally killed me to see him coked out almost every night and on the nights he wasn't doing coke, he would be taking god knows what pills.

I know how important getting clean to him was. He wanted, wants, a better life for himself. I remember him coming to me asking for help. It was a random Tuesday right at the beginning of our senior year. He climbed through my window, talking about how he wanted to change, wanted to be a better person for himself, for Wheezie, and for me. Rafe wanted to be a better role model for Wheezie than their dad was and he couldn't do that if he doing drugs.

Rafe got sober and the summer after we graduated was probably one of the best summers we've ever had. Rafe moved out of Ward's house, Wheezie practically moved in with him, the three of us were taking trips to different colleges like our lives depended on it, and just overall having a good time living our lives.

Wheezie was sitting on the front steps as I pulled in and even from afar you could tell she has been through hell tonight.

If she saw through my small reassuring smile, she didn't say anything rather wrapping her arms tightly around me the minute I was in arms reach, "I am going to fix this Wheez, I promise."

The house was eerily quiet when we entered, there wasn't the same warm feeling that I usually got when I came over. The house felt empty, cold even.

"Wheezie, I want you to go up to your room, shut the door, turn on a movie or try to go to bed. I don't want you to coming into his room, it's going to be really rough and that's not something I want you to see."

I follow Wheezie up the stairs, keeping an eye on her as she makes her way down the hall, t her bedroom. Before she enters, she looks back at me, eyes pleading with me, asking me to promise that he was going to be okay. I offer her a small nod and a very small smile before she walked into her room and shut the door.

Turning on my heel I make my way down the hall, to the opposite side of the house.

I come to a stop at his door, letting my eyes close and my head fall back as I pray to everyone and anyone to let him be okay, to make sure that I was not walking in on a dead body. I take in a very deep breath and hold it as I grasp the door handle, twisting and pushing the door open.

I quickly close the door, pushing my back up against it as it shuts.

My gaze quickly finds Rafe, slumped up against a wall, head lulled to the side. His hair was greasy and unkept, his clothes were wrinkly and I'm pretty sure his shirt had throw up on it. Rafe looked very pale which was quite a contrast to his usual tanned skin.

Before I could even blink, my feet are carrying me across his room, my hands reaching out to grasp his face as I bend down in front of him, "Rafe?"

It took a second but Rafe finally opened his eyes about halfway, a small smile making its way onto his face as he realizes it was me, "Hi bubbles."

I move some hair out of his eyes, "Hi."

His eyes start to water as he looks at me, "I fucked up."

If my heart wasn't broken before it was now. I had never seen him look so broken, so defeated. It took everything I had not to break down and cry, "It's okay, we're going to fix it. First, let's get you cleaned up."

Using every ounce of strength I had mixed with the little help from Rafe, I managed to get him up off the floor. I pull his arm around my shoulders before wrapping both of my arms around his waist as we slowly make our way to the bathroom.

I make sure he is stable sitting on the toilet before moving to turn on the shower making sure the water was warm.

Turning back to him, I grab the back of his t-shirt and pull it off of him, tossing it somewhere in the bathroom before bending down to grab the band of his shorts. Rafe seems to get the idea and lifts his hips up so I could pull them down his legs.

I grab his forearms and pull him up, letting him turn to face the shower while I wrap my arms around his waist. We stumble our way into the shower together, the warm water welcoming and relaxing. I lay my head against his back while the water washes over him.

After giving him a few minutes of silence, the one burning question that has been on my mind finally comes out, "What happened Rafe?"

I feel him take a deep breath in, his hands coming up to squeeze mine as they were still wrapped around him, letting his head hang, "Growing up I thought it was so cool that everyone knew who I was. They would hear Rafe Cameron and automatically know. When I got to high school, I realized that people feared that name and I loved it."

There were so many times I saw people cower and avoid eye contact with him when they heard his name, when they saw him, and when his family entered the room.

"There was always a small part of me that knew that a name should not cause fear or a reaction like that but I pushed that feeling down. Having the Cameron name, being Ward's son, meant that I had everything I could have ever wanted. I had the cars, the money, the girls, the parties, and the drugs. I knew that I could get away with anything and everything because of my name. It really was the best feeling in the world. The world was mine for the taking all because of my name."

His grip on my wrists tightens as he continues, "Having the Cameron name meant that everyone knew everything about me. My entire life was open to the public, there was never an opportunity for me to have something just for myself, it was like they knew stuff about me before I did. There was the time I overdosed, I was so sick. I was throwing up everywhere, I couldn't eat, couldn't drink, couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. No one cared about it then but they sure do like to bring it up at almost every gathering."

His voice was barely above a whisper at this point but I heard him loud and clear, " I am so lonely bubbles...and I just couldn't take it anymore."

There was no way I could stop the tears from flowing, "Rafe I am so sorry. Why didn't you tell me?"

"And be a burden to you? Hold you back from living your life? I couldn't do that to you."

"Rafe you are my life and there's nothing I wouldn't give to make sure you were happy."

He and I stand, molded together under the water for what seems like forever. I think the water ran cold by the time he actually started to clean himself up.

Rafe leans up against the wall of the shower while I step out, quickly peeling the wet shirt from my body and wrapping a towel around myself before grabbing a towel for him. I made sure he was sitting down on the toilet as he began to dry himself off before heading back into his room to grab him a pair of dry boxers and steal a shirt for myself.

I throw the towel over the shower rod as he pulls his boxers up, helping him walk slowly to his bed. Rafe plops down, one eye popping open to look at me, "I love you bubbles, more than a best friend should."

"Tell me when you're sober."

*******

I had been up for hours by the time Rafe woke up. I had cleaned his entire room, making sure to clean up the mess from last night. I was zipping up the last duffel when Rafe pushes himself up, setting his elbows on his knees while his hands held his head.

My voice was small as I greeted him, "Hi."

I was absolutely heartbroken, I had no idea my best friend was suffering, and hurting and I feel like I was partly to blame. I left for college and didn't even consider thinking that Rafe might relapse. I didn't think to ask more often than I did how he was feeling, and if everything was okay.

"Morning Bubbles."

Rafe glances over his shoulder, eyeing up the duffles that were lined up before looking up at me.

"You're going to come back to Wilmington with me. My roommates already know about it and they're cool with it. You are coming with me whether you like it or not. Wheezie is going home, she's okay with it. We're going to get you clean and back on track, and when that happens Wheezie is going to come down and visit, hell she can even move down there if she wants. I need you to get dressed so we can go grab my things and get on the road."

I grab the duffle bags in my hand, placing a kiss on his forehead before exiting his room.

Wheezie was already downstairs by the time I got here, her bags all packed, and sat beside her as she finished her cereal.

I sit with her while she finished, neither of us saying anything.

My eyes follow her as she moves around the kitchen, placing her bowl in the sink, and putting the box of cereal away. She walks back over to where she was sitting before reaching down to grab her bag, nodding at me once she stood back to full height. I smile at her before grabbing Rafe's duffle bags, the both of us heading outside

Wheezie sits on the porch while I put Rafe's things in my car, coming back to sit with her once they were secured in my trunk, "He's going to be okay, right?"

I throw my arm around her and pull her into my side, "He's going to be just fine, I promise. You're going to come to visit as soon as he's back on track. I'll get him back to being his old self."

She and I sit in silence for a while, listening to the waves crash, finding comfort in the way the wind blew.

Just as Rose's car pulls up, the front door opens and outsteps Rafe. While he wasn't looking like his usual self, he looked ten times better than he did last night. A pair of sweats covered his long legs while an old high school lacrosse sweatshirt adorned his upper half, his hair was messy but in the usual Rafe fashion.

The moment Rafe is within reach, Wheezie wraps her arms as tightly as she could around his waist, Rafe following her lead.

"I am so sorry Wheezie. I am so sorry you had to see me like that again, that you had to call for help, that I let you down."

Wheezie looks up at him, a few stray tears escaping her eyes, "Please get better, I want my big brother back."

Rafe nods before squeezing her against him again only pulling away when Rose honks her horn.

Rafe and I watch silently as Wheezie grabs her bag and rushes down the steps to her mom, stopping before she gets in the car to look back, waving one last time before getting in the car.

I wait until the car is out of view before looking up at him, "Ready?"

Looking down at me, nodding, "Ready."

#Rafe Cameron #Rafe #Outerbanks #OBX #outerbanks #rafe cameron #Rafe x reader #Rafe fanfic #rafe fic #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron one shot #rafe obx #Rafe Cameron OBX #Rafe Cameron Outerbanks #Outerbanks fanfic #Outerbanks x reader #Outerbanks oneshot

37 notes · View notes

fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 1 year

Text

Code Blue - Ch. 2 "Signs"

Summary: Lee's shift goes on with invading unexplainable thoughts of the blonde one. His best friend and colleague makes his debut. Lee struggles through a sorrowful time in his life. Josie goes on a mission. Lee goes on his own and indulges.

Notes: The mentions of Lee's mother and father has nothing to do with his real life parents. It is purely made up for the story.

*Warnings* Mentions of child death, alzheimer's, language, alcohol use

Stories Masterlist

Salem General Hospital, Massachusetts

February 2, 2023

The nightshift went on for Lee, making his rounds for the patients in surgical recovery and the ones who had been admitted for various neurological reasons. He stopped at the nurse's station to complete overdue paperwork as his nights were always busy.

While he was writing, he found his pen halting and the words blurring as his thoughts drifted to you. He wanted to sit and talk with you again as he found it comforting, but he knew he shouldn't for multiple reasons. One, it was 4 am. Two, you were not his patient. And three, it was unethical for the reasons he wanted to be in your orbit...and four, he had to argue with himself over number three. Lastly, there was the fact that you were grieving the loss of your brother.

Why? Why he asked himself, did he want to see you so much? What was this foreign feeling he was experiencing for the first time ever? So many patients in his ten years of being a doctor and not one had stole his attention like a thief in the night. He did not need this, ever, as far as he was concerned and...certainly not this day.

"Lee Lee my bee gee!" An energetic physician shouted as he dashed around the corner, sliding in his oxfords right into the dazed doctor and startling him from his deep thoughts. God he hated that nickname. All because he appreciated good music and the Bee Gee's were a favorite of his. Of course he too had his own pet name for his co-worker and best friend.

"Orlando banando!" Lee shouted back with a half smile but his face held a grievance for the unwanted ink line that now traveled over the important documents.

"What's up doc?" Dr. Bloom snickered as he slammed his clipboard onto the counter and tapped his fingers vigorously beside it. "Ready for break?"

Lee's brows furrowed as he had forgotten to take his last one. "Yeah, yeah, I will be there...about 20 minutes yet. Seems I have to rewrite this form out now."

His sarcasm didn't go unnoticed by Dr. Bloom.

"Good, see you then. I'll grab some quick shut eye in the meantime." As the doctor walked past Lee, he stopped and patted his shoulder, offering an apologetic grin. "Sorry....It's not like they can read your chicken scratch anyways."

"Get the hell out of here." Lee chuckled and shook his head. "I'm not the one being hounded by a nurse about my writing. See you in 20."

Lee and Orlando had been colleagues for about nine years, but it was triple that for their friendship. Both attended high school together with Lee only two years behind Orlando who had just transferred as a junior to Lee's school. Lee was in the initiation days and the seniors liked to pick on the more academic types. Some were just straight up assholes and took things too far with Lee one time. Orlando intervened and saved him from the swirly in piss water he was about to receive in the boy's restroom. Ever since then, the two were inseparable and eventually went on to med school together, although the two chose different fields. Lee was specialized in Neurology and Orlando was solely internal medicine. He had no desire nor the stomach to cut someone open.

Both men were single and now in their 40's but neither looked a day over 35....and still inseparable. They both had similar physical features as Orlando Jonathan Blanchard Copeland Bloom was tall, dark and handsome like Lee, with his slim toned body measuring in at 5'11... six inches shorter than his 6'5 bff. His dark coffee colored hair was short at times and long with curls and waves at others. About the only difference between the two besides height were their eye hues. Lee's were of the deep blue sea and Orlando's were that of decadent chocolate.

Those eyes popped opened as Lee whisked past the dozing doctor in the tiny break room and put the cream for his coffee back in the refrigerator.

"All these years of working with you and I still don't know how you do it. How do you get by with so little sleep?" The somnolent Orlando asked as he chugged down the rest of his now cold coffee.

"Ambition, good diet...constant self medicating." Lee smirked as the hiss of his red bull snapping open was heard.

"I do all that and yet here I am feeling as if I could sleep for days. And you, you're running around here like there's a fire after you told me you only slept a mere few hours yesterday." He paused and sat down with a yawn escaping him. "So...how are you doing? I hope you're not coming in for another shift later tonight considering....well, you know. Sorry. I don't mean to bring it up.'

Lee fondled his caffeinated beverage as his eyes lowered. "No, actually I have the next few days off. Going to go check on my dad after I leave here and then...hell I don't know. Probably have a date with a good bottle of whiskey."

"How's he doing? Your dad."

"Same as always. Some days he remembers me, some not."

"I'm sorry man. I wish there was something I could do. If you need a drinking buddy, just call me. I feel the urge to knock back a few...or 12....Well, I better get scootin. I still have a few patients left on my rounds and then I'm heading out. Hey, I meant what I said...call me if you need anything. I always got time for you in my hectic schedule."

"Thanks man, I appreciate it. I apologize ahead of time if I drunk text you." Lee grinned.

"Not if I drunk text you first." Orlando laughed and left.

Lee's smile faded as his friend exited the room. Resting his elbows on the table, he released a deep breath as he rubbed his palms down his face, then headed back out for the remainder of his shift.

Orlando's rounds included your room and this would be his second visit since you had been admitted 24 hours ago. He too had found himself quite attracted to you and had looked forward to seeing you again, saving you for the last visit of his rounds.

"Hi. Miss March, How are you feeling?"

"Ready to get the hell out of here." you lightly chuckled.

"Well...I will do my best to make that happen after I check you over again. Do you get these panic attacks often? It says here in your chart you take Ativan on a regular basis. Is that still correct?"

"I am supposed to but I don't like how it makes me feel so tired. It's disrupting to daily life responsibilities."

"I completely understand that but it must be better than ending up here all the time? Here...let me get your vitals and we can go from there."

He unwrapped the stethoscope from around his neck and leaned down behind you. The aroma of his cologne flowed in a soft breeze over your face. Armani. You knew it well. Quite attractive he was, you thought as you took in your deep breaths. Tall dark haired older men always got your immediate attention. Your mind then went straight to Dr. Pace. You wished he had come back to see you. Little did you know, that is all he wanted to do.

"What are your responsibilities that you mentioned, your activities and such? Stressful ones?" Dr. Bloom asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"My life is nothing but stress, especially now."

"Yes. I heard about the loss you have suffered. My deepest condolences."

"Thank you. As far as other stressful things...I run a family business, well two actually. One is more for events. The Haunted Star, have you heard of it?"

Dr. Bloom temporarily ceased listening to you breathing and stood up.

"No way? Really? It's that gigantic party yacht on the bay right? Your family owns that? I know it well but I don't recall ever seeing you there."

"Yeah, off of pier 55. I am there on and off. Mostly I am at the Brady pub."

"Yes, yes I know that too. An Irish pub with the best clam chowder I must say, although I have only been there a few times. So you're Irish huh?" he asked as he continued his check up.

"Yeah, born and raised in Galway, but we moved here when I was a teen. Needless to say, I have lost my accent....and my red hair. I dye it blonde."

"Well now that is quite interesting. I never would have guessed that. Red hair is nice, you don't like it? Take another breath in please?"

"It's alright, just wanted a change.....What about you? Besides your doctorly duties, what do you do for stress relief? Certainly your profession must be filled with it? I bet you're always playing golf?"

"No, I don't like golf." he frowned.

"I thought all doctors liked golf?" you laughed as you turned to smile at him. His cocoa eyes were something else as you found yourself gawking at him and his breath hinted of coffee.

"Not this one." he smiled as his eyes studied you when you turned away. He could smell your hair. Floral with a hint of smoke from the explosion.

"So far, all appears to be normal. I would like to do one last blood draw just to make sure your counts are all good. We are short staffed tonight, do you mind if I do it?"

You shook your head with a grimace. You hated needles.

"Sorry. I know. I will make it as painless and quick as I possibly can."

As he stuck the needle into your arm, he carefully watched your face.

"What about that other doctor who checked on me? Drrrrr...P..Pace I think he said was his name?"

"Oh?...yes, Lee...sorry, I mean, Dr. Pace. He was here?"

"Yeah. Shortly after I was admitted."

"Hmmm. strange. He's neurology. Did you have head trauma from the accident? I do not see anything in your chart about that?" He asked as he flipped through the pages with furrowed eyebrows.

"No...nothing like that. He is the one who helped me. I had collapsed in the hall from the anxiety attack and he carried me to a room for help. At least that is what I am told since I don't remember much of that...just his voice...."

Your eyes lowered as you paused and drifted to the soothing sound of Dr. Pace speaking. And now you knew his first name. Lee.

"Anyways...I just wanted to thank him. Is he here?"

"Yes, for the time being. If I see him before I leave, I will tell him you would like to see him."

Orlando could tell by your demeanor that you had a thing for his best friend. Who didn't? He was never jealous of Lee but slightly envious of how women just fell at his feet.

"I'll look in again...later on."

Lee had finished his rounds and then went to his office to complete a few tasks before he headed out to see his father. There was a knock at his door in which he tried to ignore as he just wanted to get the hell out of there.

"Lee...it's me." Orlando's voice came from the other side of the door.

"Come one in. I'm just finishing up and then I gotta get going, I am running la...."

His words were stopped dead in his tracks as he looked up and saw Orlando walking in with a little boy. A boy that was his patient and eerily resembled his late son.

"I'm sorry...his nurse asked me if I had seen you. He wanted to bring you something before he was discharged later today to thank you for all your help." Orlando explained with a soft smile.

Lee gulped as the little boy walked up to his desk and placed a toy on it.

"Thank you." is all Lee could manage to say as now he wanted to leave more than ever and find the nearest bar.

The child smiled and then Orlando took his hand and walked him out. All Lee could do was sit there staring at the toy while he white knuckled his pen. He abruptly shut his computer down, grabbed his keys stormed out.

It was now 8 am and Dr. Bloom came back with a coffee in hand to let you know you could go home.

"Hey there. You are all set. I just gave the orders to the nurse. She will get them all prepared for you and then you are free. Just...be sure to take your medicine regularly so this does not happen again and...get some rest.

A nurse stormed in, appearing quite frustrated and bee lined straight for the doctor, then rudely shoved some papers at him.

"I cannot process these papers until I can read them!"

You glared at her as she left.

"What a bitch!"

Orlando could not help but laugh. What a great smile he had, you instantly thought.

You laughed too. "Seriously though. Can she talk to doctors like that? She should be fired. I will tell her and everyone else here that you are a good doctor."

Your words stunned him for being willing to defend him when you only met him one day ago.

"I thank you. That is very kind of you, but it is not necessary. She is always like that, and not to just me."

"Well it still ain't right....Oh! Did you find Dr. Pace?"

"No...unfortunately he has left already. I am sorry. I will gladly relay your appreciation to him when I see him again if you would like?"

Now he had told not one lie, but two. But for what reasons? He told himself it was to protect Lee from any additional complications in his life which was true and Orlando knew you had interest in him. Lee's relationship history was a train wreck and even Lee himself didn't want anything to do with another one. There was also a part of Dr. Bloom that wanted you for himself and he believed he had felt a connection with you. He would never do anything to hurt Lee and so he figured what he didn't know, wouldn't....couldn't hurt him.

"O..ok. Thank you." You were baffled at how upset you were and even the doctor could tell you were disappointed.

"I am going to go rewrite your release papers so you can get out of here...and please be sure to follow up with your primary physician. Take care of yourself. Maybe I'll stop in for more of that chowder."

You both exchanged smiles and then he was gone.

You got up and began gathering your belongings and getting dressed while you waited on the nurse. As you fumbled through you purse, you accidentally knocked your cup of water onto the ground.

"Shit..." You grabbed a handful of paper towels from the bathroom and bent down to clean it up when something sparkly under the night stand caught your eye. As you slowly pulled it out, you came to see that it was a bracelet. Very thin with a broken clasp and appeared to be real gold. You had seen this before but where? Only four people had been in your room. It wasn't Britt's, you knew that. You didn't see it on the nurse or Dr. Bloom....then it hit you. When you had laid your hand on top of Dr. Pace's in your drugged stupor, it was around his wrist. Was this a sign?

You put it in your purse and decided you would try to locate him so you could return it and also have your chance to thank him for his help and for sitting with you when you were upset and scared. He did not have to do any of that, but he did, so now you wanted to do something nice for him. It shouldn't be hard to find him as you now knew his first name. Surely you could find his address. You could even ask Britt since she worked with him. No scratch that. You didn't want her to get the wrong idea. You would figure it out by yourself and take the bracelet to him personally.

Lee arrived at the senior care facility where his dad was living instead of hitting the bar. If he was going to get annihilated, he was going to do it in the privacy of his own home. His father had been a resident there for a few years now after his alzheimer's had taken a turn for the worse after Lee's mother passed away. Lee would have taken care of his dad himself but with all the hours he worked, it just wasn't feasible. He would have needed 24 hour around the clock care, for all Lee did when he got home was sleep, and his father was a fall risk and had also wandered off before and got lost in the woods. The farm Lee lived on was his parents. He had grown up there and didn't want to let it go so he moved in and legally bought it. Lee paid for all of his father's expenses that his insurance did not cover and visited him 3 times a week. The place he chose was conveniently close to the hospital as well which was better in case of an emergency as the farm was up to 30 minutes away with all the traffic depending on the time of day, so all in all, it just worked out better that way.

"Hey dad. How's it going today?" Lee walked in to find his father sitting in his usual spot watching his usual shows. Today, he actually remembered Lee.

"Hello son. Not so good today. I am late for work and I can't get anyone to take me."

"You're retired Dad. You don't have to go to work."

His father turned back to the tv while Lee straightened up his room.

"Where's Elizabeth? Did she have to work today?"

He tossed the mail down and turned to lean on the table.

"We're not together any more. It's been 4 years since I left her."

This was the gist of his visits. His dad asked him the same questions every single time and he knew what question would be next.

Lee gritted his teeth as he waited for it.

"I hope you're not letting her to raise that boy all alone? A boy needs his father."

Lee never got frustrated or angry with his father for he understood his disease all too well. After all, he specialized in that area and he was very compassionate to those affected by it. But today...he was a bit edgy and blatant with his answers.

"Jacob's dead. 4 years ago...4 years ago today."

His dad turned back to the tv again and didn't ask anymore questions, just watched his show like nothing was ever said.

Lee's normal visit time was approximately one hour, but today...he left thirty minutes early.

He got in his car, hit shuffle on his cd player and cranked it, then sped off. A mixture of rock, country, pop, hip hop and oldies thumped through his speakers. Anything sappy he instantly skipped for his brain was on overload with grief of losing his patient, your brother and grief of the angelversary of his son's death, not to mention he couldn't get you out of his head either and he barely knew you. He kept seeing your golden eyes and feeling you squeeze his hand which made him look down at it.

"Fuck!" he shouted and hit the steering wheel. He had just noticed his bracelet was missing. It meant everything to him and it wasn't because it was real gold or expensive. It was because his son had given his own five dollars to buy it for his birthday.

Lee had taken the five year old shopping for a birthday present for himself so Jacob could pick it out. Jacob had five dollars saved up from allowances and wanted to use it to buy the gift. The little boy chose the bracelet he saw in a display window at the mall because he knew his father liked jewelry, but the bracelet cost a hundred times more than what Jacob had, so Lee bought it, allowing Jacob to believe his five dollars purchased the exquisite gift.

He soon found himself parked in front of his old house where he lived when Jacob was alive. He couldn't bring himself to sell it so he chose to rent it.

Lee sat in the car for a moment to regroup from yet another loss and to find the courage to go inside. He knew the previous tenants had ditched without a word before their lease was up and that he needed to check the place over, but he had kept putting it off.

He finally got out of the car and went inside.

The place was in shambles. Trash everywhere, boxes of junk they left behind, and things were broken.

He walked over to a window and looked out to see the swing in the back yard that Jacob used to swing on that hung from a tree.

Blocking all of the memories out of his mind, Lee began cleaning up, which took him the entirety of the day and while he did so, he came across a small jackpot for himself. A bottle of vodka and jack. He immediately got a cup and filled it up with the whiskey.

Hours went by as he lost track of time indulging in the booze. He got to a point he was drinking the vodka straight from the bottle. The only thing he had consumed that day was red bull so he was becoming heavily intoxicated which had been his mission all day.

It was now the twilight hours as he sat on the kitchen counter with his eyes closed eating a bag of chips and listening to music.

Thoughts of you crawled through his head, wondering how you were doing after the trauma you had endured and the loss you suffered that he blamed himself for. He knew better than to do that because sometimes, the injuries were just too severe, but it's just who he was, beating himself up for things that weren't his fault, like his son's accident.

He saw your eyes again, then your smile. If he had known your phone number, he would be idiotically drunk texting you right now telling you how much he loved your face. It was more than that though for Lee was far from shallow. There was something about you that woke him up in just the few short hours he sat with you...like a fire was started inside of him.... and it was growing. Maybe it was your vulnerability and how scared you were to be alone and actually wanted him there with you or how you told him his voice comforted you when all his ex did was tell him how much she hated it and didn't want him around. That was only one woman, Elizabeth. He couldn't count on two hands, the fucked up shit show parade he had been through with women. His inebriated self then tried to convince him that you were probably the same as all of them, that it was the drugs making you be so nice to him.

Suddenly, another song came on in that very moment and it made him think of you right away. Was it a sign?

@redeemer46

youtube

#lee pace #leeepfrog #doctors #code blue #orlando bloom #lee pace fanfiction #love stories #signs

9 notes · View notes

rabbitindisguise · 1 year

Text

Ran into this interesting video on how racism has shaped western music theory

youtube

Comparing and contrasting with racism in English literature education in America under the cut

In English American Literature™ classes we talked a lot about how race, class, and gender* influence historical records and literary analysis as well as the dismissal of genre writing like sci fi and fantasy (and not even in my women's studies classes? Literally in high school? Lmao). So given I was already primed to suss out that there is no "universal" anything when it comes to culture, I was honestly really surprised that "music is the universal language" didn't ping me as Potentially Big Racism. The only other thing I've heard that about was math I'm highschool, which makes me want to look into how math might not be a universal language either (I already recently learned that braille is an alphanumeric type system dependant on English and the Indo-Arabic number system**, so it's definitely not a universal language either, nevermind ASL which has american right there in the acronym). Computer language problems be English centric are well known as far as I know though- but I only found that out in college.

Jazz is something they talk about quite a bit, which is totally justified, but the lack of Chinese music theory, Japanese music theory, African music theory, and even Irish music theory and Scottish music theory, is uhhhhhhhhh utterly bizarre to me now. Imagine taking English class and only learning German and no other contributing linguistic roots, and only learning it in German.

I think the YouTuber doesn't realize the extent of the abnormality there because he probably doesn't know a lot about literary analysis, but when it comes to cultural mixing in America only talking about one contributing culture is erasure of even other white cultures- which is shocking from an inclusivity standpoint, a kind of regression that puts us way back in the 1800s when Irish people were being discriminated against as immigrants (though that makes sense considering that's when this sort of thinking was being developed).

I think in particular the thing that's bothering me is the antisemitism of the German supremacy that's mentioned. I feel like there's a lot of prejudice with English that isn't purely rooted in antisemitism, but I feel like this is one of the few cases where antisemitism is a disproportionately large fraction of the problem. Excluding Jazz is racist as hell especially in America, evangelicalizing Germany specifically is racism that whole industries rarely participate in as a rule (literature often focuses on the works of transcendentalists and Shakespeare and art on the Renaissance- neither of which is german).

I dunno maybe everyone already knows this and I'm very late to the party though, considering I don't know anything about music besides middle school classes (though I don't remember English classes being quite as bad even then) and I've never taken a math or music class in college. But I have heard multiple people studying those majors repeat these things, and these were people in their senior year with this as their major, so I dunno what's up with that.

*I had to take other classes for intersectional approaches and ones that covered other dimensions of oppression so it wouldn't be fair to say that they talked about other things even if I did learn about them in other contexts, so basically I'm not forgetting the other systems of oppression they just don't apply here

**I looked it up to make sure it was the Arabic number system that I was thinking of and found out that it also had Hindu influences which >:/ more things I didn't know. I wish I had more opportunities for global sociopolitical classes that would focus on this kind of thing

[wrt alternative math notation, apparently even 3blue1brown covered this so I'm just totally out of the loop for everything, which makes some kind of sense considering the limited education I have on it. I do wonder if more widespread discussion of the barriers to recognition in the fields of music and mathematics, like with representation in fiction authors and poetry writers, would give more marginalized people opportunities in the fields and ultimately in education. I get the general sense that fans and fandom is aware of representation these days, and as a casual fan of music I was not aware of these things, so this information trickling into the kpop type fandoms might be beneficial in helping to preserve existing representation in the music fields and increase support for more from the incredible power generated by Scorned Teenage Girls (positive) that we've seen with all sorts of political movements lately.]

#personal #Youtube

3 notes · View notes

riyuyami · 2 years

Text

Okay.

I’ve had time to think this over (I slept on it because working a night shift while emotionally overwhelmed is not great), and decided to put my thoughts down on all this in a much better way than my previous posts.

In December of 1999, the day I moved from the states to Germany, my dad got a magazine that talked about games, comics, cartoons, movies, things like that, and said my older sister and I would like it. Of course we would, it had Ash and Pikachu on the cover.

Well, inside was an article about a new series that would be coming to the states sometime in 2000-2001.

The image they used for this new anime was of two teenagers, one dressed in green, the other in shiny, blue and black leather. Blond hair, weird star-shaped hair, and they were holding cards.

This image is the cover of the fourth Duel Monsters era book, and was my very first introduction to YuGiOh.

And I fell in love instantly.

I wanted to know everything about this series, about who these two guys were, why they were playing card games, and what that ancient Egyptian puzzle one of them was wearing had to do with the plot.

When the show finally aired over on an American channel while I lived in Germany some time later, I was hooked. I wanted to watch the adventures of Yugi Mutou and his friends every week.

I remember being so upset when, during the Pegasus and Yami Yugi/Yugi duel, the channel stopped airing the episodes for the series and I had to wait a few months to see the end of season one.

I remember my dad got my sister and I our very first issue of Shonen Jump (it was the second volume) in 2003, by then I was already watching the show, collecting the cards, but seeing the manga changed something in me.

I saw more games, I saw how much of a little shit Yami Yugi was, how cool Yugi could be at times. Joey was a total badass, Kaiba was prepared to kill a man over a card game. Tristan and Tea had more personality to them, Mokuba was a gremlin, Ryou and Bakura felt more fleshed out.

Later on in that year, the worst year of my life, I was in the hospital for a month and my sister brought my ygo manga for me to read and it brought me joy.

I was in love and the manga and show greatly influenced me into drawing more than just Spongebob and Powerpuff Girls are as a little kid.

I wanted to draw cool action things, I wanted to draw monsters, I wanted to draw characters... well... kissing.

Because I ended up getting involved on the online fandom scene in 2005.

And everything changed from there.

I met people outside of my small group at school that liked the series. I could talk to them about the characters, not just the card game, the ships I grew to like, the cool stories and comics people created, the aus! I met people who became my friends, I met my first ever girlfriend in this fandom.

My art improved the more I drew these characters, I still have influences in my art from this series (mostly in how I draw clothing and certain hair and eye styles, but whatever). I cringe at my old art, but I’m happy to see how it improved the more I drew these characters.

I still had fanfics printed from the good old days of not having internet on a phone.

I still have fanart printed too, all in folders.

There’s a framed Joey on my desk right now, making The Face, that’s a bit of motivation for me.

I’ve cosplayed characters, I was the third best duelist in my high school, I had/have so much merch still. I’ve watched all of the series fpr DM, including the Capsule Monsters mini series (my favorite season), read all the manga. Hell, I nearly killed my computer watching season zero a while back, but it was worth it.

I’ve watched DM, and some of GX, in multiple languages because youtube used to let you do that, and I had German and Italian channels where I could watch the series that way.

I saw Bonds Beyond Time in theaters in a theater filled with people like me who grew up with the show, and we were all cheering and freaking out during the movie.

When DSOD came out, I was not in a great mind state, but that movie really helped me bring up my mood and started my second era on the internet as a ygo fan.

I made more friends here on tumblr with this account, so many people were/are interested in my aus and nonsense. I drew so much more fanart, you guys put up with my dumb crush on Timaeus and his thighs. So many of you were there for me when I went into the hospital again in 2018.

Hell, a lot of you were excited when I showed you guys my cartouche tattoo of the pharaoh’s name!

I’m not as active as I was when I was in college, but I’ve never stopped loving this series. I’ve been in love with this series since 1999, and I doubt I’ll ever stop.

Kazuki Takahashi left one of the biggest impacts on my life these past twenty-three years, and I am so thankful for that. I wish I could have met him, but I’m just happy that I was able to have some of the best fun I’ve ever had in a fandom because of his attempt at a horror/action manga centered around games.

Thank you, KT, for everything, from the past, the present, and into the future.

#John's commentary

16 notes · View notes

jaytoons7 · 2 years

Text

Just go back to sleep

A short CU fanfic, Revolving around my teen version of Melvin (With an OC I made recently mentioned)

Warnings: Descriptions of insomnia, Mild language/swearing, Descriptions of a migraine

Melvin Sneedly, Or Vinnie as he preferred to be called nowadays, Was typing away at his laptop while sitting on his bed. His trusty cat, Karaoke, Was fast asleep next to him, But Vinnie couldn't get himself to sleep.

His mind was buzzing with thoughts, None of them good. He was thinking about something his high school science teacher, Mr. Timothy Ryft said to him very recently.

Vinnie remembered sitting at his desk, Discussing some theories with his teacher. He always liked Mr. Ryft, He was one of the few adults he trusted even after everything. However, He didn't expect Ryft to say this to him,

"Vinnie, There's something important I need to tell you. I'm all for you regaining trust in people after what you've been through, But there are people out there you should never trust, No matter what they say to you. They'll try to use you, To hurt you. So when the day comes that someone untrustworthy is desperate to gain your trust, You must wake up."

"H-Huh..?" Was the only way Vinnie could respond. But Mr. Ryft only smiled and went to grade some papers, Like the conversation never happened.

That memory still haunted Vinnie, What did he mean by all of that!? Why did he suddenly feel the need to tell him all of that? Was it a warning, An omen? Vinnie never liked it when people were cryptic with him.

Vinnie looked at the clock sitting on his nightstand, It was about 3:15. He knew he shouldn't be staying up this late on a school night. Hell, He promised his mom that he would stop doing that. His body was practically yelling at him to go to sleep, But something in the back of his head was preventing him from doing so.

He was about to ignore that feeling and close his laptop, When he saw an unfamiliar file on his home screen from the corner of his eye. "_Project_S_" He didn't remember having a file like that. He hovered the mouse on the file, Sweat beginning to form on his forehead. He was hesitant to click. What if it was a glitch or a hacker and clicking this broke his laptop?

No, His curiosity was beginning to take over, He had to know what this was. If it caused his laptop to break, He could always repair it. He clicked on the unknown file.

Of course, It seemed to be protected by multiple passwords and firewalls. Fortunately, Vinnie was pretty damn good at hacking. And hey, This file was on his laptop, So why shouldn't he take a peek at what lies inside?

He typed away like there was no tomorrow, Slowly beginning to gain access to this mysterious file. "Project S," What were you exactly..? He would've continued, But he suddenly got a notification. Someone wanted to video chat with him. Vinnie knew better than to video chat with people he didn't know, But what was the worst that could happen? He could always leave the call if things get dicey.

He plugged in his headphones and put them on before accepting the call request. The caller didn't have a name, And their camera was off. "Um, Hello?" Vinnie spoke. "I think you might have called the wrong person."

"Get off of that file, Boy." An adult male voice spoke. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into." "Wh-? Why should I!?" Vinnie huffed. "It ended up on my laptop! What's it doing there!?" "That's none of your concern." The voice answered. "Just get off the file and go about your business."

Vinnie stayed quiet for a second, He was calculating the risks of continuing. "Alright, Fine! I'll get off of the stupid file!" He finally growled. "Good boy." The voice said in a condescending tone. "Don't talk to me like I'm your pet, You creep..." Vinnie hissed. "I don't see why this file is so goddamn important to you."

He exited out of the call and took a deep breath. Maybe this guy was right, This was probably none of his concern. But that feeling in the back of his head came back, The feeling telling him to continue. Honestly, All of this was beginning to give Vinnie a headache. Staring at a computer screen probably wasn't helping either.

He quietly snuck to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. Then, He went to the bathroom and got some pain meds. The last thing he wanted was for this headache to turn into a migraine. He snuck back into his room, Putting the two pain pills in his mouth and took a drink of water to wash them down.

He placed the cup of remaining water on his nightstand before sitting back on his bed. He looked at this clock again. 3:50, He didn't have a whole lot of time left before his mom would come in and wake him up. Still, That didn't matter, This file was of the upmost importance! He could deal with his mom being upset and being tired at school later.

He clicked back onto the file and began hacking more into it. As he did so, Stuff slowly became revealed to him. There were news articles of stuff that's already happened, The discovery of the toilets on Uranus, The boogers that attacked the city. But most importantly, There were a few articles discussing the "mysterious" underwear clad hero, Captain Underpants. Vinnie grabbed the hypno ring that he always kept in this nightstand's drawer. What could this person want with him? Did they know that he was actually his old elementary school principal?

Suddenly, He got another call request. He rolled his eyes, Put on his headphones, and reluctantly got on call. "I told you not to mess with that file, Boy!" The voice hissed. "Don't tell me what to do." Vinnie huffed as he continued typing. "You don't understand the amount of shit you're getting yourself into!" The voice shouted. "Just-" The person calmed themselves down. "Just go back to sleep, Melvin. You wouldn't want to make your mother worry."

Vinnie froze at this. How did he know his name and about his mother!? "H-How do you know my name!?" He hissed. "And about my mom!? Have you been stalking me!?" "That isn't important! Just listen to me and get off of the file! This has nothing to do with you, Trust me!"

When the voice said that, Vinnie immediately thought back to what Mr. Ryft said. He also noticed the parallel of Ryft telling him he has to wake up and the voice pretty much insisting he goes back to sleep. Well, One thing was certain. Vinnie trusted Mr. Ryft a hell of a lot more than he trusted this guy.

He tried to leave the call but couldn't. Whatever, He would just have to deal with this creep yelling at him while he gets deeper into the file. He minimized the call screen and continued getting into the file. "Stop it right now!" The voice yelled. "This is your last warning!" Vinnie just ignored him while he continued. Finally, He got full access to the file. He pumped his fists in celebration before wiping some sweat off of his forehead.

He scrolled through the file a bit, It seemed to talk about a power that could make the world obey, Well, Somebody. Unfortunately, The name seemed to be redacted. The file then mentioned something about the 3D Hypno ring, Which made Vinnie clutch his harder. Finally, He made it to the end of the file, Which revealed it's full name,

"Project Sneedly"

Vinnie's heart raced a mile a minute. This file was obviously about a supervillain, And this person somehow got ahold of his last name! That and with the hypno ring mentioned, He was involved with this plan somehow.

Suddenly, The voice spoke again. "I told you not to get involved, You know too much." Vinnie shook a bit before he suddenly got the most head splitting headache of his life. He let out a yell of agony and quickly grasped his head, Headphones flying off in the process. "W-What are you doing to me!?" He shouted.

"I can't have you going around telling people what you saw, Can I?" The voice suddenly spoke from the inside of Vinnie's head. "Especially not that meddling teacher of yours. You've always been a "tattle tale" as your classmates would say. Just sleep this headache off, And this will have been nothing but a bad dream."

Vinnie quickly stood up, He knew what was about to happen. His memories were being painfully erased. The pain in his head was almost unbearable, He had to find a way to fix this before it was too late!

He thought back to what Mr. Ryft said once more. "You must wake up." Of course! Vinnie had to find a way to "wake" himself up! He quickly looked around for something, Anything, In his room that would wake him up. However, He was beginning to run out of time, His mind was beginning to fade. Suddenly, He looked over at the glass of water he got earlier. It was still 3/4ths full.

He quickly grabbed it, Knowing what to do. And it seemed that the voice knew what Vinnie was gonna do as well. "Melvin Richard Sneedly, Don't you fucking dare!-" But he refused to listen. "I need... To WAKE UP!!" Vinnie then splashed the water onto his face.

Vinnie woke up with a gasp. He was on the floor, Hair and face soaking wet from both sweat and the water he splashed on himself. He looked and saw Karaoke sitting next to him, Scared of what happened to him. The splitting headache was fortunately gone, But his whole body felt sore.

He shakily sat up and saw the time. 7:00. He had to be getting ready for school. He stood up, Ignoring the pain in his body, And thought. He remembered everything that happened beforehand, And it was definitely too real to have just been a dream. He quickly looked at his laptop. The file was no longer there, But Vinnie fortunately remembered it clearly enough.

He closed it and placed it in this backpack that was set on the floor near his bed. He then picked it up, He was gonna have a lot to talk about with Mr. Ryft today. He took a deep breath before leaving his room.

#captain underpants #captain underpants au #melvin sneedly #captain underpants oc #i'm gonna draw mr. ryft someday i promise #also i won't spoil who was talking to vinnie #that'd ruin the fun #jay writes

2 notes · View notes

ariespellz · 1 year

Note

wait how does that work? does that mean you'll only have a few days of vacation? sorry my english isn't englishing rn😭

same, i usually don't follow any sports but everyone's talking about it so 🤷‍♀️ i wish you luck with maths! i don't do much of that anymore but i remember how painful it was 😭 no matter how much i studied for some reason i could never get a good score...anyways i'm very sure you won't turn out like me! i have faith in you! 😭

yeah, this is the longest term,,,which is good but also kinda bad. my mock exams start next term i believe, and then the term after is basically full of actual exams, which im not looking forward to ://

anyways, i hope you do really well in your exams!! and rest when you can! <33

no u actually make sense!! the educational stuff is going nuts lately in spain :/ they're all dicks tbh but oh well we have to suck it up,,

we basically start vacation "officially" the 24th and we'll proba be back by the 5th?? pulling my hair out rn . these btches i swear.

on the bright side tho!!! next year im choosing my bachiller (we have 6 years primary, 4 secondary, and then 2 years in something called "bachillerato" in which we make some subjects related with what we want to study. then we have an exam called ebau (various, depending on the subjects we choose), and with that grade we can apply to a certain amount of universities. does that make sense?? we have other options aside from uni too but thats too much info) and i'll have no more maths, just humanities (languages, history, and other nerdy shit i enjoy lmao).

the main thing with our education styles is that is very .. closed off??? like. the US for reference is HELL. its soooo expensive qnd the level is kinda wonky? defo lower than here. HOWEVER , even then, the masters degree options and branches in and after high school are way more open than here. we have like a shit ton of careers and you have to study the full 4-5 years (or drop out) and then go for another one if you want to do something slightly different. okay maybe not really but idk i feel like im rambling a lot. im a bit stressed out about school stuff.

on another not: i relate to the math thing SO. MUCH!!! im quick w stuff like multiplications fractions etc etc but the moment functions come out.. lord have mercy. my brain stops braining. so yeah good thing my teacher knows i bother w that stuff (hes cool at least:')) physics had me crying last year).

exams are so stressful!!! i feel u hun :( i cant say i know exactly what ur going through but u are very very smart and great! u WILL pull this off evie i believe in you<33

#🧿.chatting #⭐.moots #we're surviving with coffee and tea huh #i hope you enjoy these days! you sound like a hard worker >:))

0 notes

aquagustd · 2 years

Text

fast forward - JJK

↣ If every single person you knew was against you, it wouldn’t matter, doesn’t matter because Jungkook would be there for you. That’s why you don’t question his words when he repeats ‘I’ll be back’ one disconcerting morning, and you respond with ‘I know. I trust you.’ He’ll make you eat your words.

✩ a flashback drabble for hell is empty ✩

༄moodboard

pairing — biker!jungkook x reader

genre/rating — R | fluff, smut, angst

word count — 12K

listen to — reflections by the neighbourhood, bad things by camila cabello & machine gun kelly

warnings/tags — established relationship, strong language, mentions of violence & blood, drug use/dealing, strict parents, reader & jk are around 19-20, shotgunning, mentions of abortion, minor character death, mentions of guns, minor bike accident + injury, familial conflict, soft but stern jk, just two goofs madly in love with each other (◕﹏◕♡), mentions of babies, explicit smut — thigh kink ofc, spit kink, hand kink, finger sucking, dirty talk, fingering, pussy slapping, overstimulation, biting/scratching, a nice mix of degradation + praise, name-calling (slut, whore), hickeys, soft + rough sex, doggy style, dumbification, standing sex, oral (f & m), hair pulling, deep throating, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (rip), creampie, breath play, impact play, some ass play, nipple play, pillow talk

a/n — can be read as a standalone. but is necessary for the plot of HIE !! now that Jungkook is introduced into the story, I thought it’d be good for a lil flashback so the readers can get a better look at their relationship in the past & what his return really means for y/n & Junho. the narrator in the beginning of this drabble will be revealed later on in the story. also the song reflections pls it’s them 😭 listen to it before you read this 🥺

∞

Just as the gravel crumbles under the tires of his motorcycle, everyone cowers as he passes them by, leaving a kiss on his companion’s forehead before disappearing behind the infamous, nondescript building to get on with secret business. Although it wasn’t that much of a secret.

Everyone knew what Jeon Jungkook got up to by his walk alone. Similar to the domineering stride his father carried with him each time you would be lucky enough to see him. The few occasions that he left his mansion was enough to set an uncomfortable lump in everyone’s throat. But even high up in the comfort of his home, his business was thriving. Little men running around for him with a wave of his hand. Bees, he called them.

Everyone also knew that Jungkook would follow in his footsteps, and it all began once he finished high school. A small initiation was held and even if Jungkook had the wits to take over right after his last day of his metaphorical teenage years, his father said that he wasn’t ready yet. Only because he was still alive and in good health. It was only a matter of time before his own supply would kill him. BUT, he’s still alive. And Jungkook is still a bee, buzzing around like the rest of them for his father.

Still, everyone knew that Jungkook was the younger version of his father, even if he hated hearing it.

How Jungkook and ___ met, no one knew. Perhaps they were childhood friends? Met in high school? No one knew. Given that she came from a religious home, far away from Jungkook’s neighborhood and the dangers lurking in those streets, it was difficult to piece their beginning together. Her background should be disregarded entirely, she and Jungkook shared the same temperament and were equally merciless. Even if she wasn’t a bee herself. But Jungkook kept her around, or she kept him around? What mattered was that they were deeply in love with each other, anyone could see that. Inseparable. Soulmates.

It was quiet for the past week, but everyone knew it was only a matter of time before they returned from their little vacation and stirred things up just like they always do.

Wide-eyed, some sniggering, others scared for their life, look on as she yanks the back of an unsuspecting waitress’ head, firm grip around her ponytail before she’s thrown to the floor.

Back to business, I guess.

“If you don’t fucking speak up—” You lift your boot, pausing just above her ribcage as she holds up her hands, muttering pleas under her breath.

“J-Jake…He—” She coughs, scooting away on her palms to hit the wall, shaking her head furiously. You stalk her further into the alleyway, rolling up the sleeves of your leather jacket as far as they can go.

“What about Jake?”

The echo of your voice is enough to have her trembling, wiping the corner of her bloody mouth before shielding her face. You crouch down in front of her, yanking down her hands to find terror in her hazel eyes. Jungkook said to rough her up a bit, you think your job is done. She doesn’t deserve to suffer the consequences of her brother’s constant fuck ups.

With a sigh, you help her up to her feet, fixing the nametag on her dress quickly before stepping away.

“Jungkook won’t be too happy to hear that I let you go so easily,” you begin, rubbing your knuckles on your jeans, “so you better go home and tell your good-for-nothing brother that he rather come out of hiding before we pay your parents a little visit.”

She gasps, a little overdramatically.

Lurching forward, you grip her arm and drag her around to the front of the building, rolling your eyes when she begins to sob.

“Oh please. I didn’t even hit you that hard, here.” She grabs the tissue you offer, blowing out her nose. “Aren’t you tired of all this? Your brother doesn’t deserve you.”

Her lips quirk to the side, grimacing when she licks at the wound on the corner of her mouth. She lifts her gaze to meet yours, voice a pained whisper.

“He’s my little brother.”

You fold your arms, “I know for a fact that we aren’t the only ones looking for him.”

She shakes her head, tears glistening under the fading light of a passing car, “yes. There’s much worse.”

You chuckle, slowly backing away from her, “don’t let Jungkook hear you say that.”

At the mention of his name, you feel an arm around your shoulder, instantly relaxing in his hold when his scent surrounds you. He glances at the waitress who stumbles into the café, a question on his lips.

“Nothing,” you sigh, taking the can of Coke from him as you return to his bike parked on the far end of the lot, “but I think we’re making headway. He might be hiding at his parents’ place.”

Jungkook nods, setting down his drink on the ground before helping you with your helmet, knocking his against yours once you’re togged up and ready.

“I like it when you’re out with me,” he smiles, flashing his heart-stopping bunny grin.

You shove his shoulder as he gets on the bike, throwing your leg over the seat behind him before squeezing his pecs, “I’m always out with you.”

He starts up the engine, grinning at you in the mirror, “you know what I mean. When I’m out on business.”

Resting your cheek on his shoulder, you slide your hands inside his jacket, his heartbeat thrums under your palms, accelerating just as you take off onto the road. Joy overwhelms your senses once you fall into the odd tranquillity from speeding down the roads. Hair whipping around in the wind, you grip onto him tighter, knees hitting his sides as he takes the turn onto the highway.

You breathe in the night air, cutting into your lungs while he speeds up, and you know it’s because you told him recently that you feel the most free when you’re with him on his bike.

A smile breaks onto your face. During the first few months of dating Jungkook, you weren’t too sure if you were in love with him, or in love with the way he makes you feel. It was something you struggled with for a long time, and you knew that there was a significant difference between the two. And it was only recently, when you made peace with the fact that it was both.

Heart spilling with a million and one emotions, you place a gentle kiss on the back of his neck, breathing in his natural smell as much as the wind would allow. He turns around, lips lifted in a smirk before you smack the back of his helmet.

“Eyes on the road! Are you trying to kill us?!”

His words are muffled but you still hear them loud and clear, and not because you’ve heard them multiple times before.

“I wouldn’t mind if I die with you like this!”

Your giggle is cut short when he winds down the road even faster, tears prickling your eyes before you decide to surrender to the speed and close them fully, gasping once he comes to a stop outside a familiar house.

Unclicking your helmet, you jump off and bang your fists against his chest, whining when he grips them tight and holds them close to his body, reeling you in slowly.

“I thought you liked it,” he whispers, positioning you between his legs while he leans against his bike, “I make you feel free, isn’t that right?”

You tip your chin up to press your lips to his, but he jerks away, laughing when you whine again.

Managing to break out of his hold, you tug on the hair at the back of his neck, bringing his face down to your level.

“And I hate it when you tease,” you mutter, grazing his lips with your own while he hisses, hands flying to your hips. You brush his hair out of his eyes with your free hand, mirroring his grin once you catch sight of his blown pupils.

He pulls you flush against his body, tilting his head just like he does before he’s about to steal your breath away when you hear footsteps behind you.

“Hey lovebirds! Good to see you back in action.”

You snap away from Jungkook, back pressed into his chest while he winds an arm around yours, holding you close.

“Hyung, nice to see you here,” Jungkook shouts, grabbing Yoongi’s extended arm, “thought you’d be too busy with miss goody two shoes.”

Looking between the two of them, you cock an eyebrow, “that’s her new nickname?”

When you and Jungkook begin to snigger, Yoongi groans, “I didn’t even miss you two.”

You share a look with Jungkook, poking at Yoongi’s side before he scurries away into the house with you following close behind.

“Stop lying! You missed us! That’s why you kept calling every hour.”

Yoongi pretends not to hear, making his way to the noisy kitchen while Jungkook greets each person you pass on your way further inside the house, voice drowned out by the booming music.

“Correction,” Jungkook grins, filling a cup with whatever drink he finds on the counter, “every fifteen minutes.”

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck, side eyeing your boyfriend who nudges his shoulder with a mirthful simper.

“That’s because your father wanted updates,” he mumbles, taking a swig from his nearly empty cup, “and since you were gone, I had to finish up what you left behind.”

While they continue to bicker, you scan the lounge to find an empty spot on the couch, Haneul seated nearby. You take a sip from Jungkook’s cup and saunter towards her, planting yourself in the middle of her conversation with Iseul.

“You’re back!” She throws her arms around your shoulders with all her half-heartedness, you pat her back just the same. “We missed you so much!”

You receive unenthusiastic greetings from the girls around her. Dismissing the rest of them, you turn to her and pretend to be interested in what’s going on in her life before she finally gets to the juicy parts, only to be interrupted by Iseul calling your name.

“Hmm?”

She passes the blunt to Juwon, drawn-on eyebrow raised to her hairline.

“So, is it true?”

You lean back on the couch, resting your hand on your stomach tiredly, “is what true?”

She glances at each of her friends briefly, as if searching for confirmation before she cups a hand around her mouth, strobe lights dancing over her features.

“You and Jungkook left town so you could get an abortion.”

It would’ve been better if you had a drink in your hand, so you could’ve spat it all over her judgemental face. But instead, you must sit up in the seat, lips parted in disbelief.

“What?”

She holds up her palms with indifference, “that’s what we heard.”

They stare at you like a wake of vultures, waiting for your answer and you want to deny but you know no matter what you say, they’ll believe what they want to believe. A sickening weight stirs in your stomach.

You spring up from the couch, mumbling a small ‘that’s not true’ over your shoulder before making your way through the gyrating bodies, hand on your belly as you grip the railing outside and suck in a deep breath.

Since you’ve started dating Jungkook, there were all kinds of rumors circulating. None of which affected you, but why does this one make you sick to your stomach? Is it because you took time off for a harmless vacation and that’s what people thought? Is it because they thought you were having Jungkook’s baby, and you didn’t want it? Or is it because of your beliefs? What you were force fed since you were a little girl by your parents?

All you know is that you had never, ever, in your three years with Jungkook and the years before that, thought about Jungkook and a baby in the same breath. It doesn’t seem…like you or him.

Leaning over the railing, your hands slide up and down over your arms, bile rising in your throat. Where do people get the time to make up shit like this?

Just as you’re about to go back inside, Jungkook emerges from behind the sliding door, forehead creased.

“What are y—What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, managing a small smile as if that’ll throw him off your case.

“Nothing,” you dismiss, reaching for the joint in his hand but he pulls it out of your reach, dipping his head to peer into your eyes.

“Something’s up.”

Reflexively, your gaze shifts behind him to the window where the girls sit, watching you and Jungkook like hawks. He follows your gaze, straightening his posture before cursing under his breath.

“Those bitches. What did I tell you about talking to them?” He scolds, attempting to raise his voice but still his regular pitch when he grabs your shoulders. “I told you before. They’re jealous of you!”

You scoff, poking your tongue in your cheek, “I don’t see why they should be jealous of me.”

He clicks his tongue, big eyes even bigger, “are you kidding? You have everything they don’t.”

“And what’s that?”

His tongue flicks over lips, tucking your hair behind your ear daintily, “firstly, every single one of them live miserable lives. Their parents force them into college when they’re all dumb as fuck and they’re all single and—”

You shut him up by pressing your index finger against his lips, speaking around a laugh, “okay baby. I get it.”

His innocent eyes turn mischievous, pulling a gasp from your lips when he tugs you close, “you know what else?”

Eyes glued to his lips, you jerk your chin in question, slipping a hand around his neck, “what?”

He takes a long drag from the joint, thumb tugging down your bottom lip before slotting his mouth over yours. You breathe him in greedily, sighing when he seals it with a lingering kiss before pulling away. A dizzying spell cast over you from his gaze alone.

“You have me.”

Before you can respond, he starts to attack your neck, teeth and tongue working on your flushed skin while you squirm under him, knowing that you’d go home with bruises marring your skin. Giggling, you manage to pull away and fit your face in his neck, tugging down the collar of his shirt to suckle your own blooms into his flesh. He groans, long and breathy, hand fitted over your ass.

“I love you,” he grits, pressing a kiss into the crown of your head, fingers skimming down your necklace. “Let’s go home.”

Despite the heat brewing in your abdomen, a light feeling in your legs, you press your forehead to his, mumbling a soft ‘no.’ He watches you with half lidded eyes, lips puckered.

“I have to go home tonight,” you breathe, plucking at his collar, “they’re already mad at me for leaving.”

His breath mingles with yours, chest heaving, “it’s late already.”

“I know,” you sigh, pulling back slightly, “but they’ll be waiting for me in the morning.”

He exhales deeply, nodding to himself, “okay. Let’s get you home then.”

As you’re walking down the stairs, Yoongi stumbles out of the house, tossing Jungkook his keys. Even in his inebriated state, he still looks out for you two.

“Take my car,” he slurs, pointing at his black single cab as if you didn’t know it was his, “it’s too dangerous to go out with your bike.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest but you steer him away from the house, telling him that it’s better not to argue with a drunk Yoongi. He counters that it’s better not to argue with Yoongi at any time. You laugh, but at the back of your head you know that your little escape from reality has reached its end. Especially when you have to tiptoe up to your room.

Afraid that you might disturb your parents’ sleep and walk straight into your impending doom.

By pure chance, your sleep breaks at around 3:30AM, rubbing at your fuzzy eyes before you squint at your screen. Seeing fifteen missed calls from Yoongi. It better be important, he has the tendency to call you up at the slightest inconvenience concerning Jungkook but it’s not like him to miss your call. You try again and it goes straight to voicemail. Not long after, your phone lights up with his name and you answer it right away, jumping up from your bed when you hear the panic lacing his voice.

“What the fuck? I’ve been trying to get call you for almost an hour. Come outside.”

You slide on your slippers, whisper-shouting into the speaker, “some of us are not nocturnal like you, Yoongi.” Just as you expected, his car is parked across the house, and you hope with all your heart that your parents are on their third dream. “What do you want?”

His voice trembles slightly which has you pausing, hand on the doorknob, “Yoongi? What’s going on?”

“Fuck. Just come outside and I’ll tell you!”

You’ve only seen Yoongi like this on a few occasions, so when you find him with his head in his hands, you know your paranoia is justified.

As soon as you click in the seatbelt, he’s speeding off, eyes dimmed.

“Jungkook’s been in an accident.”

Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach, yet still throbs in your mouth.

“W-What? When? Is he okay?”

He rubs his chin, ignoring the blinking light for his own seatbelt, “I don’t know. He’s at the hospital now.”

“When did this happen?”

“I don’t know. Some time after he dropped you off. He got back to leave the car and said he’s going home. Fuck, if I was with him—“ he continues to curse under his breath, ignoring the speed limit.

You rub your palms on your knees, tears flowing freely before Yoongi parks haphazardly outside the ER. You’re fast but he’s faster, barging in and asking for Jungkook. The nurse tries to tell him that he’ll need to slow down, you’re growing impatient, reaching over the desk to pull the monitor in your direction. With frantic eyes, you search for his name to find nothing. Yoongi tugs on your arm, dragging you down the hallway while you’re trying not to skid on the glossy tiles with your useless slippers.

Breaths haggard, you pull back each curtain, not expecting the first one to reveal what you were looking for.

“Yoongi!” Your hands fly to your mouth, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight.

“Fucking hell.”

The nurse standing beside his head spins around, eyes widening in alarm before she shoves both of you out of the cubicle. You crane your neck to look over her shoulder, blinking away hot tears.

Jungkook’s eyes are shut, lips parted with his face covered in blood, his shirt matted and clinging to his body. You’re one second away from losing your mind, tongue like lead in your mouth.

“Are you friends of his?”

You let Yoongi do all the talking, falling back to sit on the chair, nothing but the worst passing through your mind. He hurt his head. There’s blood all over him. He’s unconscious. A low shrill jumps out of your chest as you slump forward, sobs wracking your body. If you lose him, you’ll lose your sanity.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you lift your head when you feel a hand on your back. Yoongi stands with his eyes downcast, proffering a familiar black jacket. You hold it up to your face with trembling hands, wet eyelashes kissing your cheeks as you breathe in Jungkook’s scent. More tears staining your cheeks.

“What did she say?”

He huffs down on the chair next to yours, index finger rubbing his temple.

“She said someone called the ambulance from his phone but no one else was at the scene when they found him. So, his injuries couldn’t have been from a motorcycle accident,” he chuckles dryly, scrubbing a hand down his cheek, “and we know Jungkook, he’s too sharp for that.”

You swallow thickly, voice nasally, “what about h-him? Will he be okay?”

His head snaps in your direction, nailing you with an exasperated glare, “this is Jungkook we’re talking about. He’s a fighter.”

That does nothing to tame your fear and Yoongi knows it.

“He’ll be fine,” he adds after a beat of silence, knee bobbing incessantly, “he just needs a few stitches.”

Despite hearing those words, your heart still hammers in your ribcage, face feeling hot and prickly.

“Wait,” you break the silence, turning to face Yoongi who’s busy on his phone, “who told you?”

“His father.”

“How did he know?”

Yoongi’s head lifts slowly, realization dawning his features before he grabs the leather jacket from you, inspecting every inch.

“There’s no blood on his jacket,” he notes, dropping it back into your lap before he rises from the chair, “I’m gonna get him a room, he might have to spend a few nights here.”

“Yoongi,” you call, tugging on his sleeve, “this wasn’t an accident.”

He purses his lips, gaze firm, “we’ll just have to wait until he wakes up so we can ask him what really happened.”

The wait is excruciatingly painful, you might have lost a chunk of hair with burgeoning anxiety. Yoongi gets you coffee, but you can’t finish it, the worries weighing on your shoulders is enough to keep you awake until the nurses say you can see him.

You can think of a handful of people that would want to hurt Jungkook and actually follow through with it. If you were to narrow them down, none of it made any sense. Hurting Jungkook meant denting his father’s business immensely and no one wanted to make enemies with Jeon and his bees. But it looks like someone did, and Yoongi would stop at nothing to find out who was behind it.

Jungkook’s father can be too complacent at times, that’s why Jungkook takes some matters into his own hands. It never backfired.

When you see Jungkook sitting up in bed, bandage around his head with a straw caught between his lips, a monsoon of relief washes over, especially when his beady eyes catch on yours. You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while he hisses and groans, returning your hug as best as he can.

“Hey,” he scolds, thumbing away your tears, “I’m okay. Look. I’m fine.”

“I know,” you sniffle, propping yourself on the edge of the bed, “I saw you…all bloody and—”

He chuckles, smoothing a hand over your shoulder, “you got scared?”

“Yeah.”

Knuckles running down your cheek, he kisses his teeth, “you’re my strong girl.”

You give him a shy smile, inspecting the marks of his forehead. He hands you the juice box, turning to Yoongi who stands at the door.

“I hope my baby is okay.”

The spark in his dark eyes never dulls, you’ll leave it to Jungkook to make a joke out of every situation. No matter how serious it may be.

“You’re worried about your bike?!”

He falls back on the pillow, laughing tiredly, “Of course…But just imagine me rolling off my bike, on the side of the road like a loose tire!”

Yoongi sits on the armchair a few feet away from the bad, hiding his smile poorly.

“Good to see you back in shape.”

You glance at Yoongi, taking a sip from Jungkook’s juice box, “Yoongi was crying.”

“I was not!”

“Yes,” you poke, waving a finger in his direction, “you were!”

Jungkook’s lips stretch over his teeth goofily, never missing the opportunity to tease Yoongi.

“You were crying for me hyung?”

Yoongi mumbles under his breath, leaning his cheek on his fist before he changes the subject.

“How are you feeling?”

Jungkook stretches his arms over his head, and if you weren’t sitting so close you wouldn’t have noticed the slight tick in his jaw when he sets them back down.

“Never been better.”

Yoongi props his ankle on his knee, folding his arms over his chest, “what really happened then?”

Jungkook avoids his question, gesturing for you to feed him the yogurt you just opened. He hums quietly, pecking your cheek before asking for another spoonful but you decline, shooting him a suspicious look. Both you and Yoongi have the same reprimanding frown to your lips, waiting for his response.

“What did you do?”

“Hyung,” he begins, adjusting the pillow behind him, “you know how it is when—”

“What—“ Yoongi seethes, leaning forward on his knees “—did you do?”

Jungkook grows defensive, voice raising enough to have the same nurse from earlier barging in to ask if everything is okay. That’s when you know that he caused all this.

“I think he should rest,” she suggests, hands clasped in front of her politely, “you two can come back later.”

Yoongi throws a cursory glance over his shoulder at Jungkook before you hop off the bed, stopped by a hand around your wrist.

You’re hyperaware of the nurse hovering about the door when he yanks you forward and smashes your lips to his, chapped and sloppy but enough to have your stomach twisting in on itself.

“I’ll see you later,” you breathe, steadying yourself on the mattress.

His lips ghost yours, fingers slotting with yours, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He chases your lips, pouting when you pull away and walk around the bed. With warm cheeks, you apologize to the nurse who holds the door open for you, turning around one last time to blow a kiss in Jungkook’s direction. He holds up his fist, pretending to catch it before holding it to his heart. You laugh to yourself, heart feeling lighter.

It’s been years since you visited this hospital. The last time was when your mother had her kidney operation, and a lot has changed in those few years. The usual teal and white accents was swapped for pale green and baby pink. You don’t know which you like better, both combinations were equally unnerving. But you guess that’s the way a hospital will always feel. People only come here out of obligation, a depressing and unsettling reason behind their visit.

When does one visit the hospital for a joyous occasion?

Ah.

You take your exploration further down, remembering that the maternity wards were a floor below the ER. There’s a large sliding door separating the maternity wards from the rest of the hospital. And you’d need a key card to enter. Cupping your hands over your eyes, you attempt to look further down the hallway, heart stuttering in your chest when the glass slips from under your hands and you stumble forward.

A nurse, wearing pink scrubs, doesn’t spare you a single look as you follow her in. But you knew it was too good to be true when the guy at the mini-reception area cuts your journey short.

“Where are you going, miss?”

Here you are, standing in your white pajamas and pink slippers. You don’t question his judgement as he eyes you down.

“Oh, I was just—” you jut your thumb down the unfamiliar hallway “—visiting.”

His attention is drawn to the telephone that rings behind him, “what ward?”

“Erm…” The whiteboard behind has a bunch of numbers scrawled in different colours, a Ms. B Kim catches your eye. “A8?” You clear your throat, “A8.”

He nods, phone tucked between his shoulder and ear and you’re free to go.

It smells of detergent and musk. You could hear a pin drop. Soft giggles and mumbling come from behind the closed doors, and you find ward A8 easily. But what you were actually looking for is found a little further down. Tiny cribs, some vacant, others occupied with little humans.

You grasp at the glass, flinching when a nurse catches sight of you, but she just waves, coming to stand on the other side of the incubator.

She mouths the words, ‘which baby?’ And you point to a random crib on the far end, plucking at the hem of your sleepshirt.

Even tinier hands, big eyes popping out of its equally bigger head. You stand awestruck, palm pressed to the glass while she holds up the specimen like a burger, peeking around it. Her eyebrows furrow and you realize that she’s waiting for a reaction. You coo, jutting out your bottom lip for her entertainment to which she smiles. Gently, she runs her hand over the babies face which turns a bright pink, gums exposed as its small lips curve up. A genuine smile takes over your features, the impractical urge to squish and pinch its face claws at your heart.

You wonder how it smells in there.

She sets her down, (you’re assuming it’s a girl since they’re all bald) and gets back to work, checking in on the other babies.

They’re all motionless, different shades and shapes but still the same. In identical cribs, lined up next to each other. It’s a funny thing. This is where you all started—”

“What are you doing here?”

Yoongi shuffles over with his hands in his pockets, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I was…uhm…bored so I came here. How did you get in?”

He shrugs, cat-like eyes widening a fraction just as yours did when you first saw them.

“They’re cute, right?”

He’s silent, disgust painting his features before he spins around, leaning against the glass inattentively.

“What do you think he did?”

You sigh, “I don’t know. But he knows he messed up.”

Yoongi scratches his chin, eyes on the floor, “yeah. His father is so fucking angry.”

“I would be too. If my son almost died a few hours ago.”

Yoongi laughs mirthlessly, crossing and uncrossing his legs, “you really think he’s angry because of that? Come on. You should know him by now.”

You tap on the glass, a voiceless cry coming from the baby nearest to you.

“I don’t know what shit Jungkook stirred up but it’s not something that’ll die off quickly.”

Humming quietly, you mirror Yoongi’s posture. Exhausted from coming up with your own conspiracies but still finding new ones to dissect.

“I…”

At his hesitance, you lift your head to look at Yoongi, finding a distant smile on his face.

“I spoke to him. Jungkook’s father, I mean.”

Your eyebrows furrow, “about what?”

“Leaving.”

“Oh.” Your hands sag at your sides, “you’re leaving.”

He nods, sucking his lower lip into his mouth, “I’m tired of all this, ___. I can’t do it anymore.”

You nudge his shoulder, grinning at him playfully, “does your girlfriend have anything to do with it? Hmm?”

“No,” he states plainly, “she doesn’t. I wanted to leave for a long time but things kept coming up. I want to start afresh. Make a new life for myself. Go to college. Fuck. I don’t know.”

After he mentions college, you laugh, slumping against the wall, “Yoongi? A college boy? Never would’ve imagined.”

“I’m serious,” he warns, “aren’t you tired of it?”

Your smile falls. Tired of it meant being tired of Jungkook. This is all he knows.

Yoongi takes your silence as an answer and he changes his tune, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“You know, I want you to meet her. I feel like you two would get along.”

You shrug off his hand, taking one last look at the babies then loiter along the hall, grimacing when a sudden breeze creeps down your neck.

“It’s funny that we haven’t met her yet,” you laugh, “are you embarrassed of us?”

He snorts, reaching up to rub the back of his neck as you head for the staircase.

The rest of your week is spent in the hospital. Yoongi managed to work something out, or bribe, with the head nurse, so you had a comfortable recliner right next to Jungkook’s bed. Following your instructions carefully, he snuck into your room and picked the few things you needed for your extended holiday. It’s still beyond you how he did it in broad daylight.

But once again, your impromptu vacation comes to an end. You’re sat on Jungkook’s lap, waiting for the doctor to come in for his last check-up.

“Hmm,” you wonder out loud, gripping Jungkook’s chin, “you need a shave.”

He brings your fingers up to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of your hand like he always does, “do it for me?”

You smile, nuzzling into his neck, “okay.”

The sound of your phone ringing disrupts the tender moment, and when it cuts just as you pull it out of your jeans pocket, you can tell who it is without looking at the screen.

“Shit.”

Jungkook gives you a pained smile, “you have to go.”

“Yeah,” you say dejectedly, “I’ll see you later.”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, tailing you to the door, “it’s better if I see you tomorrow. It’s been a while since you saw them. Also, Yoongi and I have some business to attend to.”

“Okay,” you mumble, reaching up to set one last kiss on his puffed-up cheek, “keep safe.”

He relinquishes his hold on your hand with a sorrowful frown, “you too.”

Bitter weather for your bitter mood.

Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since you last saw your parents but to them, it must be two months. That’s how dramatic they can be.

Not once did they call during that time but tonight must’ve been the last straw for them.

You’re an adult. Been one for a few years now but they still have a hold on you that you would never be free of as long as Jungkook is in your life. It’s understandable, one would be afraid if their daughter is involved with the son of Jeon. One of the biggest drug lords your generation and the one before that has ever known.

It’s your life. They don’t get to choose who’s apart of it.

Once you make it to the front door, fiddling with the straps on your backpack, you decide ‘fuck it’ and shove the door open. Your mother sits in her chair at the kitchen table, back facing the front door and your father stews in the lounge. Newspaper, which is just a prop, obscuring your view of his face.

The door shuts behind you and he sets down the paper, rising to his feet to stand at the fireplace.

When was the last time you used that thing? Cleaned it? Must’ve been some time before high school, when you were still a kid. Fascinated by the flames inside your home.

“Good evening,” he roars, “how nice of you to grace us with your presence.”

Devoid of emotion, he beckons you further inside your own home, a sarcastic smile on his crumpled features.

You hover near the hallway, pushing the straps of your bag over your shoulders.

“I’m tired. What’s going on?”

An awfully dry laugh reaches your eyes, spiking your fear even further. But he doesn’t give you an answer, your belongings brimming three trash bags does. You crouch down in front of it, thorns prickling your throat when you see your shattered frame on the floor, slowly dusting off the shards of glass to salvage the photo behind it.

“One rotten egg in a carton,” he shouts from somewhere behind you, the words all too familiar to you, “and no one wants it. One spoiled fruit, give it a few days and the rest are just the same.”

You stand up on shaky feet, chewing on your lip to keep the tears at bay. It was only a matter of time.

“You live in my house, you follow my rules,” he continues, looming closer and closer, “you knew that. You don’t care about your future, why should we? Your mother and I are tired of saying the same thing over and over again. It’s been a year since you finished school and there’s no direction in your life.”

Silent tears drip from your chin, having accepted your fate the moment you walked in.

“That boy—” he spits “—there’s no place for you here. Please lea—“

Before he can complete that sentence, you struggle with the bags and kick open the door, forcing yourself to look ahead. Don’t stop to find guilt in your mother’s eyes, remorse in your father’s. Because you know you’ll find none.

Chest locking up, your eyes burn as you push through the night. Your pride is what keeps you going, throat working wildly, throwing curse after curse at your parents. They were never willing to take accountability. Did they stop to think just once that you’re who you are today because of them? Only when you got your report card did they care. Even then, to compare you to the rest of your classmates.

You try to recount the most memorable days of your childhood but all it does is bring tears to your eyes. When you think of happiness to counter that emotion, Jungkook is the only face that comes to mind.

No matter who your child turns out to be, you would never kick them out or abandon them. You vow to yourself. To give them time, be gentle and understanding. And compassionate. Accepting of their emotions. The complete opposite of your parents.

You don’t know how long you’ve been walking for, your feet ache, lips and throat dry. Ignoring the group of dodgy men sitting under the staircase, you drag your limbs a little further, carting the bags behind you before you bang a fist on Jungkook’s door, unaware of the inquisitive stares from down the hall.

Yoongi opens the door halfway, speaking in a hushed tone when he shrieks your name.

“What are you doing here?”

“Yoongi,” you sob, holding up your bags, “please get Jungkook.”

“Fuck. Hold on.”

You expect him to wait for you to enter but he shuts the door in your face, leaving you to stare at the pale wood before the door swings open and a frazzled Jungkook steps out. In much better shape than you.

“Hey, hey,” he coos, pulling your head to his chest, “it’s okay. You can stay with me, hey.”

Squishing your cheeks between his palms, he tilts his head to look into your eyes, all the security you need pooling in them.

“We knew this was going to happen. It’s okay,” he affirms, placing kisses on every inch of your face. You can’t seem to stop the tears, falling lax in his arms. “Come on, you’re my strong girl, right?”

Sniffling, you lift your eyes to find his, immediately drowning in their comfort.

“Listen, Yoongi and I have someone over and I don’t—”

The door hits the wall harshly as it flies open. Jungkook curses, screwing his eyes shut before turning around.

“What’s going on here?”

You would’ve been afraid, if you weren’t used to seeing men with muscles twice the size of their head and a murky left pupil. However, with the way Jungkook’s entire body stiffens, sweaty palm slipping into your own, a fearful shiver runs down your spine.

Jungkook clears his throat, side-stepping around the burly, tattooed man who takes up half the doorway, drenched in heavy perfume. An attempt to cover the stink you pick up despite his efforts. He’s covered in ink, but the one that catches your attention is the eye on his neck. Where have you seen that tattoo before?

You had almost forgotten about your luggage when Jungkook reaches around and grabs all three in one hand, shoving you into the apartment where you’re greeted by two unfamiliar men dressed similar to the hefty man breathing down your necks. Yoongi stands at the door with his nail snagged between his teeth, gaze set on the firearms lined up on the coffee table. Cactus plant lying on the carpet.

From their silence alone, you can tell that you walked into something. And you know Jungkook’s fear only spikes when one of the men obstructs your path to his room, gesturing for you to sit on the couch. Opposite someone you’d hoped to see. Under different circumstances.

Dry blood coats the side of Jake’s face, his dark hair wet and stringy, head hung low. His hazel eyes flicker to you and you’re reminded of his sister. A loud click of another gun hitting the table breaks through your thoughts, a smug smile fitted on the boss,’ you assume, face as he plops down next to Jake, slapping his back harshly. Jake doesn’t provide any reaction, bloody fingers clutching his knees as he fits into the man’s side.

You only realize that your breaths are strained when his malicious gaze falls on you, heart racking against your ribcage wildly.

“This your girlfriend?”

Jungkook’s hold around your hand tightens, “let’s get this over with, Yang.”

Yang. You don’t think you’ve heard that name before.

He sucks his teeth, leaning back against the couch, soil from the damaged cactus pot smeared by his boot. This is the first time you’ve ever seen Yoongi this silent during a time like this, but when he does speak, you realize why.

Yang points to the guns, chunky rings glittering under the dim light, “I’m waiting for you, big boy. Take your pick.”

Yoongi takes a hurried step forward, “Jungkoo—”

His mouth clamps shut when one of the scrawny men hits the side of Yoongi’s head with the gun you hadn’t noticed earlier. You grimace when he yelps out in pain, a trickle of blood running through his eyebrow.

Yang laughs, low and ominous, “he talks too much.”

You’re too worried about Yoongi to focus on what he’s saying, Jake’s sorrowful eyes locked on yours before Yang springs up.

“Free delivery,” he guffaws, nudging Jake’s knee, “I know you need him more than I do. But you know what I need in return.”

Jungkook glances at Jake, then to Yoongi, who’s shaking his head frantically, then Yang. He says nothing, but the look in his eyes tells you that he made his decision already. A decision Yoongi won’t be too happy with. His hand slips from your grip and he reaches around the couch, setting a heavy overnight bag on the table over the guns. You’re finally up to speed.

One of Yang’s men stationed at the door stomps toward the table but is halted when his boss raises a hand, eyes not leaving Jungkook’s for a second. Your head throbs, body trembling.

“That won’t be necessary,” he smiles, buttoning his coat, “see Jeon. I trust you. Unlike your father.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenches and unclenches before he’s forced to stand up and take Yang’s outstretched hand. When he’s about to let go, Yang yanks his hand harshly, speaking into his ear. You share a curious look with Yoongi who seems to be seething in the corner.

The door shuts behind them as they leave and you would’ve yelled out in relief, but Jake sits on the couch, a different expression on his face.

“Fuck!” Yoongi shouts, rushing to the kitchen to wash his face, “do you know what the fuck you just did?”

“What else was I supposed to fucking do?” Jungkook screams from his place in the hallway, helping you with your bags.

“That’s YANG,” Yoongi grunts, voice muffled by the sound of water running. “You basically just signed a non-cancellable, non-negotiable business contract with him! Must I remind you who the fuck he is?”

Once your bags are in Jungkook’s room, you follow him into the kitchen, ready with your own questions. Jake calls your name from the lounge, flashing you a crooked smile.

“C-can I have s-some water?” He croaks, bloodied hand clutching his chest.

Jungkook and Yoongi are too caught up in their own tiff to notice you grab a glass of water. You almost feel sorry for Jake. Almost. He seems weaker than before, bones protruding from under his skin. Well, he chose this path for himself. Now you’d just have to wait to get a word in and ask Jungkook how he’s letting Jake sit here with no shackles.

You watch him chug down every drop, shaking fingers gripping onto the glass clumsily. He wipes the side of his mouth, “can I have some more, please?”

Hand on your hip, you bend down to take the glass from the table, focused on their argument. And then you hear the cup shatter, a strong arm around your neck. You cough, eyes bulging out of your skull as you feel your heartrate pick up once again.

But you don’t need to call Jungkook, Jake does it for you, dragging you to the door before grabbing one of the guns. You’re too terrified to take notice of where he places it, struggling and squirming for breath when you see Jungkook and Yoongi come running out of the kitchen, their expressions blurred.

“He-lp.” You bang a limp hand on Jake’s side, head going fuzzy.

You can feel his hot, putrid breath on your ear, his grip around your throat loosening slightly for you to yell out in pain.

“This won’t end,” Jake pants, pressing you into his chest, “this won’t end Jeon.”

Yoongi holds up his palms placatingly, while Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from charging forward. But he knows better.

“Relax,” Yoongi says awfully calm, flinching when the gun replaces the hand around your neck. You gulp, screwing your eyes shut, nothing but Jungkook’s panicked expression flashes behind your lids. “I’m sure we can figure something out. You won’t have to run anymore.”

“NO!” Jake growls, “I’m tired of your fucking promises!”

Feeling the gun slide down your throat lightly, you take it as your opening to drive your heel into his shin. He howls, gripping the back of your hair.

It happens too fast. The last thing you remember is being plummeted to the ground with the corner of the coffee table a little too close. Screaming. A few gunshots and then black.

The line between your dreams and reality is hazy. You wake up in a cold-sweat, heart thundering in your chest as you squint into the dark. The cold blue light coming from the window provides little help. The figurines lining the shelf next to you gives you a clue. A mix between a breath of relief and a distressed cry fills the silent air.

When you run a hand through your hair, the throb in your head being a painful reminder of what happened just before you collapsed. You sit up in bed when you hear voices, seeing your jacket hung over his chair in the corner as tears prickle the corners of your eyes. Then, you think of your dream. It was so weird, but you don’t want to forget it.

Jungkook’s glistening doe eyes looking up at you. Except he wasn’t himself. He was a kid again. From what you remember. A cute little boy.

Just as you’re about to stand up, Jungkook appears in the doorway, running a towel through his hair. He smiles, bare chest glistening in the low light, “you’re awake.”

The bed bounces when he sits down next to you, index finger tickling your cheek. You lean into his touch, throat a little itchy when you mumble a small greeting.

“You have pillow marks on your face,” he chuckles, minty breath fanning over your lips.

“What happened?”

His smile disappears, damp towel flopping into his lap, “well,” he begins, inhaling a shaky breath before his eyes meet yours, glazed with tears, “you hit your head and…I thought I lost you.”

Your lips tremble, searching for words, “and Jake?”

He smashes the heels of his palms into his eyes, dismissing your question with a shake of his head. Sniffling lightly, he takes both your hands into his own, pressing a kiss to each of your knuckles while you’re trying to swallow the boulder that seems to have lodged in your throat.

“How are you feeling?”

You nod, smoothing your thumbs over his fingers, “my head hurts a bit but I’m fine.”

“That fucker—” he grits, enraged for a millisecond. The crease between his eyebrows softens when he turns to you again, “don’t worry. Yoongi and I took care of the body.”

Your heart stills in your chest, “body?”

He shoots you a tormented look, “I thought you knew.”

“No,” you cry, “I can’t remember anything.”

He pulls you onto his lap, arms encircling your shoulders to calm your sobs, “shush, it’s okay. Jake…he…we tried to reason with him, but it was too late. If I was even a second late…” He pauses, burying his face in your shoulder, “I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

You’re at a loss for words. Still waiting for a proper explanation from him.

Spinning around in his lap, you cup his cheek, tilting his head slightly, “what was he doing with that guy, Yang?”

He licks his lips, a powerless look on his face, “Yang was after my father for a long time, so when he heard that I’m handling things…he was waiting for the right moment before he took action. Now, Jake,” he continues, voice strained with grief, “I don’t know how he got involved with Yang, but he knew that we were after him. Yang approached me and that’s how Jake landed up here.”

“Wait, you’re talking about that night? The night of your accident?”

He shrugs helplessly, “they didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“Shit.”

“If I didn’t stop Jake, one of us wouldn’t be here. And I couldn’t risk it,” he rushes out, as if convincing himself more than you. He speaks into your hair, clutching your hands tightly, “he lost control, ___. I didn’t know what else to do. If anything happened to you…or Yoongi.”

You spin around in his lap, pressing your forehead to his as you run your thumbs over his cheeks, wiping away the tears while yours cascade down your face.

“Baby, I’m still here,” you affirm, “I’m still here.”

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” he whispers, voice nasally and cracked, “you’re my lifeline.”

Fighting with your tears, you take his lips in a salty kiss, heart stuttering in your chest as he grabs the back of your head, angling your face for him to take over, capturing you in his passionate embrace. Your tongues lash against each other, falling back onto the bed where he lays you down on your side, hands sliding under your t-shirt.

His fingers twist in your hair, exposing your neck to his greedy attack on your neck. Drawing out soft whimpers from your kiss-bitten lips.

“If anyone lays a hand on you again,” he grits out, tongue laving over the fresh bruise he made with his teeth, “I’ll fucking…ki—”

His words are interrupted by your loud moans, grinding into his bulge that grows under the thin material of his towel. With the hold he has on your hair, he yanks your head back, free hand grabbing at your thigh that hooks around his waist instinctively.

“Desperate for my cock? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Meekly, your head hits your chin as you nod, struggling in his hold for some friction, heat pooling in your core. You ogle the hand that’s snug around your thigh, humming when he continues to knead your flesh.

“Missed this,” he smirks, reaching up to smack your ass, “missed these thighs.”

Tingles erupting over your skin, you lean forward, whining when he sucks his lips into his mouth, hand coming down on the back of your thigh to have you jolting forward. Pouting, you reach down and snatch the towel from around his waist, reaching down to grab the base of his veiny cock.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, thrusting into your hand shallowly before he grips your wrist, legs on either side of your body as he pins your hands to the bed.

He smells of coconut, hair still wet from the shower which only has you wriggling in his hold, lifting your head to try and get a taste of the droplets sitting between his pecs.

Lips lifted in a smirk, his free hand travels up your stomach over your shirt, resting just below your nipples, “someone’s being a naughty slut tonight.” He tuts as if he doesn’t enjoy teaching you a lesson, as if he doesn’t love it when you’re completely fucked out beneath him, begging for him to keep going. Or for him to stop.

Heat unfurls in your lower abdomen, watching the way his long fingers wrap around his cock, precum messing your leggings as he runs the tip over your thighs.

“Jungkook…”

“What?”

“Touch me,” you whine, clit throbbing incessantly. He notices you eyeing his hands, obviously aware of how much you love them. Your mouth hangs open when he brings his fingers up to your mouth, tongue resting on your lower lip. Drool slips down the sides of your mouth as he runs them up and down your tongue, eyes shimmering with lust fixated on the motion.

You gag when he pushes them far back down your throat, clothes sticking to your body with the sweat you manage to work up from trying to keep still.

“Fucking slut. Ask me nicely. Otherwise, you won’t get anything, and you’d have to watch me make myself cum.”

“No, no,” you speak around his fingers, slicking up his whole hand with your spit, “please touch me. Please.”

Desperation brimming your voice, he lets you suck on his fingers for a little while, head cocked to the side while your tongue swirls around them. The same wet hand gets you naked in a split second, only your panties clinging to your folds while he positions you over his lap, hands running over the globes of your ass.

You’re grabbing onto the edge of the nightstand, eyes on the floor as he traces the outline of your puffy lips, getting close to where you need him the most. He pinches your clit over the fabric, and you lean back into his hand, earning a harsh smack to your ass. The action has you jerking forward, boobs hanging off the bed when he hikes your ass up higher, peeling off your panties.

He blows onto your cunt, thumbs holding your lips apart while your hole clenches, mouth glued shut with anticipation.

“Fuck, this slutty little pussy is begging for my cock,” he punctuates his words with a slap to your clit, spreading around your slick as you continue to clench around nothing, willing yourself not to make a move because it’ll only be more agonizing for you.

A gasp tumbles from your lips when he spits on your pussy twice, the third time a little higher, saliva dripping down your ass cheeks which he keeps spread open with the ruthless grip he has on one, fingers tracing your leaking hole.

“You’re gonna have to wait,” he chuckles, placing a featherlight touch on your clit, “got to stretch you out for my fat cock first. But you don’t mind, do you? You love my fingers, stretching you open until you’re a fucked out mess. You want that, huh? Have you moaning for everyone to hear?”

You’re panting, a chorus of ‘yes, yes, yes’ joining the sounds of his hand coming down on your ass cheeks, taken by surprise when he plunges two fingers into your sopping hole, unchaining a range of sensations that travel up the length of your body.

He finds your sweet spot with ease, pads of his dexterous fingers working to abuse it, hot squelches reaching your ears as you continue to drip down his hand, moaning unabashedly when he brings your ass up to his face and suckles your clit between his soft lips, taking you further into the throes of desire.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimper, grinding on his tongue that rolls out against your clit, alternating between suctioning around your throbbing bud and lapping up your slick, both have you collapsing on the bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Gonna cum already? Been so long since I touched you like this and it’s gonna be over so soon,” he laments with a snigger, tongue curling around your clit just as he shoves his fingers into your cunt at breakneck speed. “I can feel you squeezing around my fingers, fuck.”

Your head lolls forward, shoulders vibrating with the pleasure while you’re rutting into his hand and face, eyes rolling back once you take in the sensation of his thumb encircling your puckered hole, filthy sounds of his mouth slurping up your essence only urges you on. His fingers don’t stop for a beat and your thighs begin to shake, breaths becoming weaker and weaker. You cry out when he bites your inner thigh, adding a third finger to your pussy while your other hole clenches with the feeling of his thumb dragging over the sensitive skin there.

“Ah, fuck. Jungkook. I’m gonna—” your eyelids flutter, lips parted when he slides a sticky hand around your neck and brings you close to his chest.

“Come on, fuck yourself on my fingers. That’s it, good girl. Such a pretty little slut for me.”

Hands on his thighs, you lift yourself off his hand, chasing your high with wanton moans of his name. You can feel his cock press into your back, finger and thumb closing around the sides of your neck as you try to stave off your orgasm, relishing in the feel of his fingers molding to your ridged walls.

He turns your head with his thumb, lips grazing yours just as he hooks his fingers into your pussy, buried deep inside while your nails dig into his thighs, your high rippling through you in paralyzing waves. But he doesn’t stop moving his hand, loving the way your thighs and ass trembles the more he drives his fingers into your swollen cunt.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, pained moans leaping from your chest that heaves when he begins to scissor you open. He smacks your hand away when you reach behind to pull away his hand, rubbing that spot inside you with a laugh.

“Gonna cum again? Hm? Give me another, come on,” he’s just as breathless as you, keeping you flush against his chest before you surrender to the feeling and gush all over his hand once again, sighing when he brings your slick up to your engorged clit.

You slide down his lap, given no time to catch your breath before his glazed cockhead hits your chin, hair being tossed over your shoulder as you sink down and take him to the back of your throat. Practiced twists of your hand around the base to hear him groan and hiss, fingers twisting in your hair to guide you over his thick cock.

“That’s it, get it nice and wet for me,” he purrs, hand meeting your ass in a searing smack. You moan around his length, wiggling your head expertly as you feel him grow in your mouth, tongue peeking out to graze the skin of his balls. “Fucking shit.”

He drags you off his cock, painful grip in your hair adding to your arousal, “want me to cum in your mouth? Is that what you wanted? Speak whore.”

“J-Just want your cock,” you blubber, leaning down to lick at his nipples hotly.

He bites down his whimper, reaching up to pluck at your nipples which has you flinging your head back. You grip his shoulder when his nail grazes your sensitive skin, attempting to straddle his lap but he pushes you off the bed entirely. Keeping you on your feet.

“Like a fucking ragdoll,” he grips your hips, guiding your hands to the nightstand as he kicks your legs open, prodding at your entrance with the blunt tip, “waiting to be filled with cock.”

You’re waiting for him to sink in, but he slaps your ass, only the head being shoved in when you jerk backward, keening for him.

“Say it,” he growls, “tell me what a desperate cockslut you are.”

“I’m a—Ah!”

He sinks in swiftly, bottoming out while your nails curl over the wood, holding on for dear life when he draws his hips back and slams into you with renewed vigor. Your sensitive walls welcome each vein, each ridge, each inch. Wet pussy stretching to accommodate his length as your bodies meet in fiery lust. Your nerves are lit with pleasure, every moan ending in a scream when he hits that spot on his thrust, hips drilling his cock to the hilt.

“Fuck, so fucking tight for me,” he almost whines, large hand placed on your back to have you falling forward. Body folded in half as he finds a new angle and begins to thrust upwards. Blood rushes to your head, reaching out for his ankles to fuck back on him just the way he likes before you hear his moans begin to taper off into whimpers and then he’s pulling you back up and you’re tossed onto the bed, head hanging off the edge when he slips right in.

He grips your chin, tapping your lip and your jaw immediately unhinges, flinching when he spits directly on your tongue, walls pulsing around his throbbing cock.

“Swallow it,” he warns, raven hair dripping with sweat that hits your forehead as he rams into you, boobs bouncing in time with his thrusts. Your lips part, a satisfied hum reverberating from his chest.

Your mind is empty. Nothing but the sounds and sensations of Jungkook’s cock splitting open your pussy fills your head. Delirious, you’re trying to meet his thrusts but your head feels fuzzy, getting extremely close to the edge with every perfect snap of his hips. His fingers twist and pinch your nipples, teeth sinking into your shoulder to etch more of his marks into your skin.

“Come on,” he teases, hand wrapping around your throat, “how does it feel? Does it feel good, hm? My cock buried inside your pussy. Want me to touch your clit? Of course you want that. Greedy little slut.”

His thumb flicks your clit from side to side, heady gaze locked on yours with his hips working faster, his muscular body wrapped around yours, “want me to stuff this pussy full of my cum? Hm? Can’t even speak. Tell me slut, want me to cum inside your pussy?”

Unable to hold back any longer, his words pulling that sensation taut in your abdomen until it snaps and you’re trembling under him, walls quivering around his length as he whimpers and curses. Spilling deep inside you when you clamp down on him. Tingles rise on your skin, mouth hanging open in a silent moan. Your ears ring once the feeling starts to ebb away. He pulls out, eliciting a yelp from your lips when he starts to fuck his fingers into you, stuffing his leaking cum back inside your hole.

You’re unconscious for the second time that night.

Something wakes you up from your sleep, and you expect it to be morning. However, the moon is still high up, sitting among the stars. You’re wearing one of Jungkook’s shirts, sore from earlier as you rise from the pillow. It takes you a few seconds to notice that he’s sitting hunched at the foot of the bed, staring out the window with an unreadable expression on his face.

Curiously, you scoot down and kiss his bare shoulder, taking him by surprise. He gives you a small smile, tucking you under his arm as you join him to watch the still of the night.

“What are you thinking about?”

His hair flops over his eyes as he shakes his head, “nothing.”

“It has to be something.”

The same unreadable expression returns to his face and you’re annoyed, because you need to know what it means.

“Yoongi is leaving.”

He’s worried.

“I know.”

He opens and closes his mouth a few times before finally saying, “I wish it was that easy for me.”

Your eyebrows pinch together, “what do you mean?”

He blinks, Adam’s apple bobbing when he turns to face you, “I wish it was that easy for me to just leave.”

One thing Jungkook hated discussing, was his family and their line of business. The fact that he’s talking about it tonight tells you that’s deeply affected by Yoongi’s decision. You are too. You just weren’t sure about how he felt about it.

“You can.”

He scoffs, averting his gaze to your intertwined fingers, “yeah, right. I’m in for life.”

You’d rather not speak at all then lie. But the silence after his statement becomes too much for you.

“Where would you go?”

“Hm?”

“If you could leave,” you continue, choosing your words carefully, “where would you go?”

“Far away,” he says with no thought, “far away from here, from everyone. My family, yours. This town. This life.”

“And what about me?”

At that he smiles, nose nudging yours, “I’ll take you with me, of course.”

You giggle, “and what will we do far away?”

“Whatever you want. But—” he holds up a finger “—it has to be nothing like what we do here.”

“Nothing like what we do here?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing,” you tease, cocking a suggestive brow.

He slides a hand over your waist, catching up quickly, “with a few exceptions.”

The kiss is slow and hypnotic, lips moving over one another like you have all the time in the world. Because you do.

If only that were true.

You fell off to sleep on the other end of the bed, waking up to a yelling Jungkook as he shakes your shoulder lightly.

“What? What happened?”

He’s fully dressed, gloves and jacket on, helmet tucked under his arm. You follow him out of the room, a bitter taste on your tongue. Yoongi waits at the door, nail lodged between his teeth while you’re stumbling after Jungkook. Except he’s still in his pajamas like you.

“I have to go,” he states, rushing out the door.

You grab his arm, puzzled, “where are you going? Let me come with you.”

He doesn’t meet your eyes, the same unreadable expression on his face from last night, “no you can’t. It’s not safe.”

“If it’s not safe,” you breathe, blocking your eyes from the brutal sunlight, “then why are you going?”

“Because I have to,” he rushes, faint scar on his cheek much more noticeable now, “it’s Yang.”

Your heart thunders in your chest. Teeth grinding into each other as you try to keep away the tears.

“Is Yoongi going with you?”

“No.”

“How long are you going for?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

His head snaps up, gaze stern, “I have to go.” You let him take your face in his heads, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours and when he pulls away, you can’t keep the sorrow from brimming your eyes. “I promise I’ll be back soon, okay?”

You lick your lips, stepping away from the road, “okay.”

Eyes burning with sadness, you watch him roll away with his bike. A determined crease between his brows when he stops to look at you. Yoongi stands a few feet away, reaching out for you but you’re rooted to the spot, wiping away your tears that worsen the longer he stares at you.

Heart skipping a beat, you wrap your arms around Jungkook’s shoulders when he charges toward you, kissing every inch of your skin available to him before holding you impossibly close, mumbling into the crown of your head. You memorize the feel of him in your arms, the thick leather a little frustrating when your hands skate over his back.

“I’ll be back soon,” he chuckles, squishing your cheeks between his calloused palms, “why are you crying so much?”

“I don’t know,” you wail, “I’m just worried.”

“You don’t have to worry. I’ll be back soon. You’re my strong girl, aren’t you?”

Even if you don’t want to do it, the imploring look in his eyes has you nodding.

“Do you trust me?”

“I trust you.”

“Then try not to worry. I’m still with you,” he says after kissing your forehead, holding up the locket around your neck, “stay with Yoongi. He’s gonna take you someplace safe.”

“Okay.”

“I love you,” he grits, pressing your face into his chest, “so fucking much.”

“I love you too.”

As he drives away, you don’t stay to watch him go like you usually do. There’s an unshakable twist in your gut and you don’t know what to do to get rid of it.

It’s not safe in their apartment, Yoongi says. So, as if your belongings weren’t already packed, you cart everything to his van and take the journey to town. Only one man and his promises on your mind.

“Remember what I said about college?”

You hum, watching the trees blur into one big green blob.

“You up for it? Yuri can help you get in.”

“I don’t know. College? I don’t think I’d qualify for a scholarship,” you exhale a dry laugh.

“Who said anything about a scholarship? Check the bag.”

Yoongi wears a smug grin, gesturing to the bag near your foot with his chin. As expected, wads of cash spill from the seams.

“Whe—”

“Jungkook left that for you.”

“Why?”

He laughs in disbelief, “why? What do you mean why?”

Your gaze flits from his face to the bag, the unsettling feeling in your gut only heightening.

“How long will he be gone for?”

Yoongi purses his lips, eyes on the road.

“Yoongi,” you say warily, “how long?”

“Not too long. He just wanted you to be safe.”

You huff, zipping up the bag furiously, “and you think college will be a good idea?”

“Yeah!”

Yoongi goes on and on about the future, about his girlfriend, Yuri. About everything in life but your future with Jungkook. Jungkook. You have so many questions running through your mind that if you close your eyes to keep them away, it only worsens with Jungkook’s sweet face appearing.

Your fingers graze the locket around your neck. His first gift to you. The photo of the two of you from your holiday together fitted in your palm.

As the minutes tick by, Yoongi’s optimism unable to break your shield of grief, you realize that as long as Jungkook is not with you, you’ll have to live with your loneliness.

❝which scene was your favorite? mine was the hospital scene 🥺♡❞ i’m falling hard for this man pretend you didn’t see this

a/n — please, if you liked this drop a like/reblog or an ask so we can chat about it!

⤺masterlist

2K notes · View notes

noteguk · 3 years

Text

any way you want it | kth | m

— summary; in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself.

— contents and warnings; smut, childhood best friends, Taehyung x reader, bigdick!tae, breast play, oral (f receiving), dry grinding, dirty talk, tae has a praise kink, unprotected sex (be responsible!!), rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, Taehyung takes things personally but he has good intentions, this is what happens when mutual thirst gets suppressed for years of friendship

— words; 6.6k

— author’s note; i have no idea why but this fic was so fucking hard to put down into words??? I felt mentally constipated the entire time but it’s finally here

Taehyung wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when you called him at almost two in the morning, complaining about your newest nightmarish date and practically begging to come over. Like the good friend that he was, he made sure to tell you that you would be more than welcome to join him in his newest documentary marathon about aliens, and wondered if you could bring him some takeout on your way over there. Like the bad friend that you were, you said no.

To be fair, the nearest takeout place was across the city from his apartment (about thirty minutes away and in a bad neighborhood), and you were already having a horrible night as it was. Besides, you refused to take part in Taehyung’s search for a high blood pressure and cholesterol levels, arguing that it wasn’t the right time to stuff his face full of hypercaloric noodles.

But you did pity him enough to comply with his second request: a big pot of vanilla ice cream, which you were sure you’d end up consuming too. You were in a crisis.

As if to prove that the gods above were laughing at you, during the walk of shame to Taehyung’s apartment, it had started to rain (because of course it did), and your umbrella was only able to save you from the shoulders up before it crumbled and flew away from your gasp, rolling on the asphalt like a ball of dirt in a Wild West movie. By the time that you dragged yourself to his front door, you were completely soaked (and not in the way you had planned for that night to end), and about to break down crying.

Taehyung, like the angel that he was, helped you with your heavy coat and talked you into taking a warm shower before you got sick. He took the supermarket bag from you (where the ice cream had probably already melted) and walked you to this bathroom, excusing himself so he could grab you some dry clothes — and you only saw the ones he had picked when you got out of the shower.

With a silly smile dancing on your lips, you fumbled with the black booty shorts that Taehyung had jokingly gifted you that past Christmas — one that read “daddy’s juicy butt” in big, bold, neon pink letters over your ass — and then decided that your dignity was already dead by that point, so another kick wouldn’t hurt. Taehyung had also given you one of his favorite band shirts, which he only revealed during desperate times.

Your heart melted with the thought of your best friend trying to comfort you, and pulled the fabric close to your face so you could take a deep inhale, drowning in his scent. It smelled of that stupid cologne that Taehyung had used ever since he hit puberty, and a bit of fabric softener.

The two of you had an extremely close friendship, to the point that it got kind of strange at times. Ever since childhood, it was joked that you and Taehyung had been long lost soulmates — doing everything together, from going to school to laughing at the same exact jokes during movie marathons, often at the same moment and for the same amount of time. Before puberty hit (and the hormonal rage took over your first teenage years) you couldn’t remember disagreeing with him even once. You two had always been in sync.

But the uncomfortably close part only hit after you two went to college, and your anxiety for being a virgin in a sea of starving sharks got the best of you. After long conversations, you had managed to convince Taehyung to help you learn a thing or two about the art of naked wrestling.

Apparently it was weird to give your best friend a handjob and a blowjob for the sake of education. Go figure.

Regardless, your friendship wasn’t affected by any of that — even if you two had agreed to never mention any of it ever again — and you could always count on Taehyung to catch you when you fell.

Even if it was at two am on a Tuesday, after one of your nightmarish dates.

You threw yourself on the couch next to him, hugging your knees against your chest to form a barrier between you and the divine providence that had taken you to that point. You had half-assedly dried your hair, but pools of wetness had started to build on the back of Taehyung’s shirt.

Instead of accusing you of ruining his favorite piece of clothing, Taehyung reached for the remote and paused his documentary just as the narrator was starting to explain how hieroglyphs were actually part of an alien language. “Just tell me how bad it was,” he said, a mustache of ice cream melting over his top lip.

You took a peek at the bowl of melting vanilla on his center table, and decided that you would probably pass the desert for the night.

You glanced at him sideways, voice coming out monotone. “You sure you want to go down that path?”

Taehyung licked his sweet mustache off and nodded, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, hit me with it. You look like you need all the help that you can find.”

You sighed, turning around on the couch so you were facing him — legs still against your chest. “Okay so… I went to his place...”

“Yes…”

“And... we had dinner, talked for a bit.”

“How was the talk?” He asked.

You shook your head, trying to kill the memories inside. “He didn’t let me say a word. He just went on and on about this new website he’s working on, and how expensive his wine glasses were.” You scoffed, angry at yourself for ignoring the clear red flags of an arrogant douchebag. That was what the desperate need for immediate human connection could do to someone, you thought. “Apparently it’s supposed to be the next Facebook or something. Or twitter. I honestly wasn’t paying much attention.”

He chuckled. “Starting off strong.”

“That wasn’t even the main issue,” you said, lowering your forehead so it was touching your knees. You just wanted the world to end at that moment, so you wouldn’t have to go through those experiences again. “After that, we sat on his couch and started watching a movie. And you know how that goes, we started kissing, he pushed me down and got on top of me…”

“And?” He instigated.

With a sigh, you raised your head, meeting your friend’s gaze. Taehyung thought he had never seen you look so dead inside. And he had seen a lot from you. “And he humped like… my lower abdomen for about three minutes and came in his pants.”

Taehyung cringed visibly, taking one hand to cover his mouth. “Oh, man. That’s bad.”

You nodded, strangely relieved at his reaction. Part of you was worried that you were the evil witch in that scenario, that maybe you had done something wrong. “The worst,” you agreed. “Wanna know what else?”

“What? There’s more?”

“He didn’t even ask me if I was satisfied with whatever the hell that was.” You told him, bitterness dripping from your tongue. In the grand scheme of things, that was something silly to get mad over, but the fact that your date didn’t even have the guts to ask if you had gotten something out of that was ridiculous. “Not that I could possibly be. But it’s like he didn’t care and I was just a pillow for him to hump like a… sexually repressed religious teen, I don’t know.”

Taehyung only nodded, realizing that there wasn’t much that he could say to fix the situation. “Was he a good kisser at least?”

You sneered. “I think he was trying to crush my face with his.” You glanced at your friend, only half of his face bathed by the yellow and orange shades coming from the television. Maybe a documentary about ancient history and alien expeditions wouldn’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, it would knock you out, and you wouldn’t have to think about that mess anytime soon. “Also, too much tongue, just… the amount of saliva…”

“Got it. You can stop there.” Taehyung raised one hand, his eyes closing for a second. His palm lowered and met one of your knees, standing there in a silent attempt at consolation. “I’m sorry about your terrible date experience, dude.”

“If you could even call it that.” You ran one hand through your hair, suddenly overtaken by a wave of anger. “God! I was just… so… ugh! Like… ughhhh!!”

Taehyung, bless his heart, sometimes couldn’t understand the random neanderthal sounds you threw his way. “So... what?”

At last, your makeshift protection came crumbling down, and you collapsed on the couch dramatically, legs dangling off the edge. Taehyung thought that you were being possessed for exactly two seconds before you started talking again. “I did a full body shave for this night, Taehyung. Do you realize what that means?” His lips fell open, but, before he had the chance to answer, you continued. “It means that I really wanted to get railed tonight. Actually, I wanted to find a guy who actually knew what he was doing for once in my life.”

Taehyung chuckled, trying to disperse the tension in the room. “Come on, the dating pool can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” you said.

He wasn’t giving up that fast. “How bad?”

You raised your head to look him dead in the eyes, a silent threat, before finally uttering, “Try no-man-has-ever-made-me-cum bad,” and crashing your head back against the sofa.

If you weren’t so hyper-focused on your own sexual melodrama, you would have noticed the thick silence that fell between the two of you, Taehyung’s face contorting into fifty different emotions within a few seconds. He thought that he had heard it all — from the secrets hidden in Machu Picchu to the obvious extraterrestrial influence on earthy religion — but no amount of bad documentaries could ever prepare him for that revelation. That didn’t make any sense.

“Wait. Seriously?” He finally found his voice and managed to push his doubt out of his throat. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

You chuckled, humorless. “Oh no, I’ve had plenty of those. Just not from another person.”

“How’s that possible?” he asked.

“I ask myself that every single day.” You sighed, forcing yourself to sit back up. Taehyung was staring at you like you had just grown two extra arms, and you wondered what an amazing sex life he must’ve had for that confession to get him so confused. “Guess I’m just really bad at picking partners, who knows.”

There was a soft grunt on your throat as you fixed your position on the couch, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your entire day piling up at once. Your gaze mindlessly traveled to the TV — a big plasma monstrosity that Taehyung had bought compulsively during a Black Friday sale — looking at a white-bearded man pointing maniacally towards a specific, round-shaped hieroglyph. You didn’t even need to hit play to know that he was making it seem like it was an UFO, but curiosity got the best of you.

“Can you pass me the remote?” You asked, pointing at the small device that laid beyond Taehyung’s body. “I kinda wanna see what—”

“I’ve made tons of girls have orgasms,” Taehyung interrupted, looking at you like he had just clicked out of a transe.

You laughed at his monotone voice. “I’m happy for you, Tae.” You leaned over his legs so you could finally reach the remote. “That wasn’t a jab at your masculinity, I’m sure you’re a very caring partner, and I’m sure there’s tons of guys out there that—”

“I can make you cum too, if you want.”

You had just grabbed the small piece of plastic when his sentence hit you like a smack in the face, making you drop the remote back on the couch, eyes widening. “You… what?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, taking one hand to massage the back of his neck. “Did that sound as creepy as I think it did?”

“A bit, yeah.” You forced out a light chuckle, trying to break the ice. There was no sign of mockery in his voice, and you didn��t know how to react. You could not say that the offer wasn’t tempting (you’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive), but his proposal was so oddly-placed that it sounded like a joke. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyung sighed, turning his head to look at the television. “I just think it’s really unfair that no one has ever made you cum before.”

You smiled. “That’s very nice of you, but…”

“And I want to help you with that.” He looked back at you. Oh, he was being a hundred percent serious. There was no longer a single ounce of doubt in your mind. “We’re friends, it’s not gonna be weird. We’ve done similar stuff before.”

“We were a lot younger, though.” You didn’t know why your mouth suddenly felt so dry, your fight or flight response kicking at full strength. You could tell that Taehyung was also trying to convince himself about the strangeness of the situation. “It’s gonna be kind of weird, yeah.”

“Not if we don’t make it weird,” he threw back. Was it bad that you were actually considering it? Maybe it was the piled-up exhaustion combined with the years of sexual frustration, maybe you were finally out of your mind. But you were really considering it. “I don’t wanna pressure you, alright? Just making a friendly offer. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.”

You kind of wanted it, though. There was too much accumulated libido inside you from years and years of unsatisfying partners, and you trusted Taehyung with your entire heart. It sounded like a safe enough bet: if all went to shit and it got too awkward, you two could just stop, no hard feelings. Besides, you knew that Taehyung cared about you, which was more than you could say about all your dates in the past couple years.

And the more you stared at him, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, the more you grew soft under his presence. At once, you were hit with desires that you had never considered before: you wanted to kiss those soft lips, wanted to know how his large hands would feel around you. You really, really wanted to know how it was to have a good sexual experience with someone, and you couldn’t think of a better candidate than your best friend. Even if you still thought it could be seen as a little bit weird.

But you also kind of didn’t care.

You licked your lips, finally finding your voice after a long moment of silence. “How… how would you do it?”

Taehyung turned his head and looked at you, noticing the expectation in your eyes. “How would you want me to do it?” He asked.

You tried to think, but your mind was completely blank. What did you want him to do? What did you like? Suddenly you weren’t sure about anything anymore. “I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down.

Taehyung smiled at your nervousness, one of his hands moving to your chin and tilting your head up. “How ‘bout I start by kissing you?” He questioned, gaze flickering to your parted lips. “Is that alright?”

There were no words in your throat, so you simply nodded, closing your eyes as he leaned in.

Taehyung’s mouth tasted of vanilla and you thought, even for a moment, that you were in paradise. The second that his tender lips met yours, your anxiety melted away, giving space to a newfound flame of desire. Taehyung kissed you softly, sensually, taking his time caressing your mouth and drowning in your heat. His hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you closer to him and leaning your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss.

He sighed heavily into your mouth when your tongues met, his other hand moving to hold your waist. The position on the couch was kind of awkward for kissing, with the two of you sitting side by side, so it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when Taehyung tugged you onto his lap, making you straddle him.

The kiss was starting to get hungrier, messier, a small whimper dying in your mouth when his palms traveled down to cup your ass, pressing you down against his semi-hard cock. Taehyung sighed and groaned at the feeling of you on top of him, loving the way that your fingers played with his hair, your body so perfectly tight against his. If there was any hesitation before, it had completely vanished by that point.

It caught you off guard when he suddenly broke off the kiss to ask you, “Do you like any pet names?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Hm? What?”

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know, you want me to call you by something?”

You realized that Taehyung was really taking that personal service to a different level, and you couldn’t say that you were let down by it. If any of your past partners had the dignity to ask what you liked, you wouldn’t be in that position in the first place. “I… like being called ‘baby’,” you told him.

Taehyung smiled. “That’s cute. Baby it is.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Taehyung’s lips were back on yours, a dreamy sigh leaving his mouth as your tongues met once again. Only a few seconds passed before he shifted his weight to lay you down, never breaking the kiss as he positioned himself between your legs, hovering over you. Taehyung started trailing a path of kisses down your neck, his large hands slithering beneath your oversized shirt and caressing the skin of your stomach.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at your shirt.

You agreed and, within a heartbeat, that piece of clothing was already on the floor, and Taehyung was diving in to kiss the valley of your naked breasts. You moaned timidly when one of your nipples was wrapped by his lips, his tongue coming out to play with it. Taehyung’s other hand was occupied fondling your other breast, tugging and pressing down on it, and the sensations were taking over your mind.

“You have great tits,” Taehyung mumbled against your skin, switching to mouth your other nipple.

“I’m glad you like them,” you teased, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You were letting out these cute little whimpers that were making him lose his mind. “Feels really good.”

“Yeah?” He asked, moving back to kiss his way up your neck. His tongue was hot and heavy as it danced on your skin, and you knew that those sucks he was giving you were surely gonna leave a few marks on your flesh. But you didn’t really care. “Gonna make you feel even better, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at the pet name — it sounded heavenly when Taehyung used it with his deep, honeyed voice; his warm breath hitting your neck as he continued with his ministrations.

He kissed his way to your cheek, placing a small pec on your lips before saying, “Can you do something for me?”

You nodded. “What is it?”

Instead of responding right away, Taehyung’s gaze fell to your lips, and he was once again attacking them. That time, you weren’t able to hold back the whimper that you let out, your panties already glued against your core with how much he was turning you on.

One of his hands had trailed down your exposed abdomen, teasingly playing with the hem of your shorts. You held your breath when he tugged them down, bringing your underwear with it and throwing them somewhere in the living room. Taehyung grunted loudly when his fingers slipped past your folds, digging into your heat. His brain almost short-circuited because of how wet you were.

He broke the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes. “I want you to sit on my face, baby,” he said, and his request shot straight to your core. “Let me take care of you, okay?”

“Are you sure?” You asked. You had never done that before.

But Taehyung wasn’t sharing your reluctance. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse and eyes darkened. “Wanna taste you so bad. Sit on my face, please.”

And you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Taehyung helped you get up from the couch so he could reposition himself on it, laying flat on his back and watching as you settled yourself above him, thighs on either side of his head. The couch was the exact size for that, a little smaller and you’d have one leg dangling off the edge.

Taehyung took his hands to your thighs, running them up to your hips. His eyes were focused on your pussy, and you never felt so exposed when he started pressing you down lightly, guiding you closer to his mouth.

You held the back of the couch for support and did as he requested, lowering yourself until Taehyung had you flat on his tongue. Your breath trembled and caught in your throat when he licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, humming around the taste before doing it again. Taehyung was an expert at erasing your worries because, with a few more licks, he had you fully losing yourself in his sinful ministrations.

It wasn’t long until you were whining out his name, your folds lazily dragging against his tongue as you started to grind on his face. “God, Taehyung!” You called out, hand coming down to tug at his hair. Taehyung grunted in satisfaction, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through your pussy. “That’s… that’s really nice. You’re really good at this.”

He moaned in response, closing his eyes at your words. Taehyung was eating you out like his mouth was made for it, like he was starving for your taste and you were all that he could think about. He licked you from your entrance to your clit, playing with your sensitive spots and enjoying the tremors of pleasure that ran through your thighs, his hands locked tight around your hips. You sobbed and cried over him, making special effort to keep your legs steady as you rocked yourself on his tongue.

It was only when he decided to suck on your clit that you realized how absurdly close you were. You clenched your teeth and whined out, yanking his hair harder. “Do that again, please,” you asked and Taehyung, like the good friend that he was, was quick to comply. Taehyung wrapped his mouth around your clit in a way that had you trembling over him, licking and sucking on your sensitive nub like his life depended on it. “Fuck, that’s so good, Tae. Feels so good…”

He moaned again, more desperate this time, and some part of your mind understood the pattern that he was presenting you: Taehyung really, really liked your compliments. And you had no problem giving away any more of them.

“You’re licking me so well, Tae, you’re gonna make me cum like this,” you told him, meaning every word you said. Taehyung was a Greek god beneath you, staring up at you with those dark, focused eyes as if he dared you to cum on his tongue. “God! You’re so good for me.”

And then your praises ran thin, because your mind was gravitating somewhere else — seeking for the high that was dangerously close. It was only when Taehyung started toying with your entrance, brushing two of his fingers on it, that you came undone, crying out his name like it was a personal prayer.

There was a smirk on your mouth as you came down, a flooding relief that overtook you. You never thought that you could come so hard in your life, especially when it depended on another person, and you were so, so happy to be wrong that you could cry.

With shaky legs, you removed yourself from Taehyung’s face, straddling his lap and watching as his lips glistened with your arousal. His pink tongue came out to lick them, a hum on his throat as he took in your fucked-out expression.

“You did so well, baby,” he said, placing one of his hands on your waist. “Come here.”

Obedient, you leaned in and sighed as his mouth met yours. This time, Taehyung didn’t wait to eagerly insert his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself on him.

He pulled away leisurely, his voice hoarse. “Can you taste how sweet you are?” He asked. “I loved making you cum on my tongue, baby. You looked so pretty.”

Taehyung breathed out, planting kisses on your neck, one hand trailing down to squeeze your ass. You whined at his tight grip and pressed yourself down on him, feeling his hard cock poking out against the fabric of his sweats.

Taehyung groaned at the stimulation, pressing down on your asscheek again. You rolled your hips on top of him, wincing in sensitivity as his member brushed your clit. “Loved your pussy so much, baby,” he continued, sounding like he was lost in a daydream, “I can’t wait to be inside you. Bet you’d be so tight for my cock, hm?”

“Yeah,” you managed to speak. Even if you had just reached your orgasm, you were still aching to feel something inside you. You wanted Taehyung more than you could understand. “I want you to fuck me, Tae, please.”

He breathed out, his hands tightening around your flesh as you rolled your pussy against his cock once again. Taehyung looked like he was one heartbeat away from completely losing his self control, and hearing you beg for him to fuck you wasn’t doing him any favors. “Gonna need to lie down for me, baby,” he asked.

With a few more shifts on the couch, Taehyung had you beneath him once again, your legs open for him as he removed his shirt and pants. It wasn’t long before his cock sprung free from its confinement, standing erect. You licked your lips at the lustful sight, pussy clenching in anticipation as you took him in — Taehyung was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, that’s for sure; long and thick and already leaking for you.

You would’ve cried out in need if he didn’t interrupt you. “What are you looking at?” Taehyung asked, the ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips.

Your stare oscillated toward his own. “That’s why you have such a good track record, your cock is huge.” You bit your lip, thinking about how good he would feel inside you. You didn’t know how it was possible, but you were pretty sure the last time you’ve seen his cock — back in the dark ages of your freshman year of college — it wasn’t as big as that. Or maybe you just didn’t have anything to compare it to.

“Hey, I just used my tongue on you, don’t ignore my efforts,” Taehyung teased, wrapping one of his hands around his member so he could pump himself a few times. The playful atmosphere swiftly shifted back, and, when he spoke up again, his voice was deeper. “You think you can take it?”

“Yeah, I can,” you said. You couldn’t be sure, but you were sure going to try.

Taehyung hummed, moving a bit closer so he could brush his tip against your pussy, coating it with your wetness. You closed your eyes in expectation, knowing that you’d love the stretch he would give you.��

“You want it?” He asked, a touch of desperation covering his words. Taehyung was nearing his breaking point, and the fluttering of your pussy on his cock was making him go insane. “Want my cock inside your tight little cunt, baby?”

You nodded, frantic. The brushing of his thick tip on your hole was becoming too much, your walls clenching around nothing, seeking for something to fill you up. “Yes, fuck, I want it so bad.”

“Are you tight for me, baby?” He was trying to prolong that moment for as much as he could, keep the pretty face you made when you pleaded for him to fuck you burned in the back of his head. Making you cum once was a victory he would take forever, but making you cum around his cock might as well be his life’s biggest achievement. “Ready for me to fuck you?”

You cried out when he started pressing himself inside you, guiding his crown inside your pussy, then stopping. “Yes, Tae, just put it all in, please,” you whined, hands fumbling for support on his broad shoulders. Taehyung already had you clenching around nothing, you didn’t know what else he wanted from you. “Please, please, fuck me.”

Taehyung chuckled, looking down at where you two met. He was only human, and his self control was short lived. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Your back arched off the sofa as you felt the delicious drag of his large cock inside you, opening you up gradually, taking its time before filling you up to the brim. You gasped and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling, nails digging on the skin of his back as Taehyung groaned besides your ear.

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He let out a shaky breath, and you swore you never heard his voice get so husky before. “I just slipped right in. You’re so fucking wet.”

Your mind was an apocalypse of confused thoughts and forgotten exclamations, eyes fluttering shut as you dove into the sensation of Taehyung inside you — his hips angling backwards, tilting up just enough so he could move himself away from you core, only to come slamming back inside. The stretch of his cock was amazing, it was making you drunk, and all that you could think about was how much pleasure it was giving you.

“So-So big—“ you muttered, half aware that the words actually left your lips.

“How do you like it, uh?” Taehyung asked, his voice dripping sin and hunger. You could tell that he, too, was getting carried away by the feeling, his hips rutting themselves against you at a lazy pace. “Gonna give it to you any way you want it, baby.”

You bit your lip, a small moan leaving your mouth when Taehyung leaned closer to you, distributing hot kisses on your neck. You swore you’d be happy if you died then. “I like it rough,” you answered.

He groaned, apparently satisfied with your response. “Whatever you want.”

Taehyung got to his knees on the couch, deciding to put one foot on the ground for support, his hands raising your hips to help him reach even deeper inside you. Faster than your brain could compute, the shallow, lazy pace he had sat was being replaced with a harsh, fast pumping that made you cry out his name, eyes closing in sheer bliss.

“Tae! Yes, yes, just like that,” you sobbed, running one hand through your hair. You felt like your body was floating, every cell of your body overheating with the amazing pleasure that Taehyung was giving you. You never had someone fucking you so hard, his cock pistoning inside you, your body bobbing up and down on the couch.

Taehyung’s eyes were glued to the bouncing of your breasts as he continued to fuck you, a deep groan leaving his chest. “That’s it, take it,” he moaned out, quickening his pace even more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth opening in a silent scream. “Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock, baby. Gonna fuck you until you cry. Want that?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you moaned. “Feels so good, Tae.”

“You like my cock, baby? Like it filling you up?” He asked and you could only nod pathetically, your entire body too fucked out to even respond. “F-fuck, your pussy is so good. Tell me that you love my cock.”

“I love your cock,” you whined, feeling like a complete hot mess under his thrusts. “I — fuck! — I love your cock so much, Tae, it’s so big.”

Your words motivated him to fuck you even harder, his member hitting even deeper inside you. Taehyung was getting lost in the stretch of your pussy around him, the glorious sounds you were making, the lust that coated your face every time you called out his name.

“Shit, I don’t know how anyone could look at you like this and not want to see that pretty face cum.” He was breathing out hard, grunting every time your cunt tightened around him. Taehyung wanted to see you like that forever, taking his cock like a good girl, creaming all over him and begging to do it again. You were wrapping around him so perfectly, taking all of him so well, that he didn’t think he’d manage to move on from that anytime soon. “So fucking hot.”

Taehyung chased after your high like a starving man looking for food, experimentally changing the angle and force of his thrusts to see what would get the best reaction out of you. At last, after a pathetically loud cry from your part after he raised your legs up, it seemed as if he had found it. “I bet you’d be so tight cumming around my cock, baby,” he was thinking out loud at that point, trying to make sense of the pretty sounds and expressions you were giving him so eagerly. He wanted nothing more than to see you cum — it was personal at that point. “I wanna feel you cum around me, baby. Wanna feel it so bad.”

“I’m c-close.” Your nails dug into his shoulders, eyes closing tightly. There was a light heat in your cheeks and sweat on your forehead that was making Taehyung wonder if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “You’re so good, T-Tae, you’re fucking me so well…”

Taehyung thought that he could cum right then and there, pushed over the edge with those sweet words alone. He loved being good to you, loved making you feel things that no one else managed to before. He was intoxicated by that sense of superiority, drowning in your praise. He wished that he could fuck you forever.

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he pushed you on, his words hanging somewhere between an order and a breathless plea. You were getting so tight around him that it was making him crazy, your wetness coating his cock and dripping down between your legs like his own personal brand of aphrodisiac. “You can do it, come on. I wanna see you cum so bad.”

You smiled at him, a cute, fucked-out smirk that made Taehyung go to heaven and back. “So good for me, Tae, you’re so big,” you said, your voice so needy and high-pitched. Your orgasm was looming over you, pressing down on your lower body and making you see stars. It was only a matter of time before Taehyung got you crying out his name, back arching off the couch and mouth falling open in delirium. “Tae! Fuck! Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—“

But your warning came a second too late, because you were already spasming around his length, body shaking as Taehyung thrusted hard inside you. Just as expected, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous when you came — all quivering lips and rolling eyes —, and Taehyung was beyond satisfied to know that he was the only one who saw that pretty face of yours.

“That’s it, baby, fuck.” Taehyung was starting to feel his own high approaching, called by the delicious tightening and releasing of your pussy around him. His thrusts were messy and harsh; his sweaty hair falling over his eyes like a cascade. “Can I cum inside you, baby? Can I fuck you full of my cum?”

You noticed the desperation in his tone and, with the throbbing of his member inside you, you knew that he wasn’t far. “Yes, please,” you said. “You were so good for me, Tae, you can cum wherever you want.”

And it was that final taste of praise that pushed Taehyung over his limit; waves upon waves of cum filling you up as he rode out his high. “God— fuck!” He cried out, drunk on the feeling of your walls milking the last drops of cum out of his cock. A few lazy pumps later, and he was collapsing on top of you with a mumbled, “F-Fuck.”

There was an instant of silence after his orgasm, the quietude only filled by Taehyung’s heavy breathing. You took one hand to his head, caressing the strands as a smile blossomed on your lips. “Well, I believe you now,” you said playfully. “I’m sure you made a bunch of girls orgasm.”

Taehyung chuckled, breathless. “Thank you, I try,” he said, looking up at you. The darkness in his gaze was gone, and it was just your best friend staring back at you. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you admitted. You never felt so good in your life. “You?”

“Fantastic, thanks for asking.” He leaned back so he could sit up, running one hand through his disheveled hair before saying, “I’m gonna grab you a towel, hang on.”

Taehyung left you for a couple minutes before coming back to clean you up, tenderly wiping away the mess you two had created. After he was done, he discarded the towel on the floor and crawled back to rest on your chest once again.

There was a comforting quietude that floated in the atmosphere, only filled by the muffled buzzing of his freezer and the vague sound of raindrops drumming on the window. You didn’t really know how to deal with that entire situation, didn’t know how things would stay between the two of you. But, at that point, you made the decision to keep those worries for the following morning and, instead, just enjoy his warmth radiating all around you.

The glorious silence, at last, was broken when Taehyung started mumbling against your breasts. “Hey, ___?” He called.

“Yeah?”

“How many dates have you been on?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment. “Ever?”

Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I don’t know, like, this past year.”

“Uh… like… five or six? I think?” You answered, looking down to meet his gaze. You knew that wicked expression very well. “Why?”

He smiled. “Because we have a lot of shitty dates to make up for.”

#bts fic #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #bts #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #reader insert #smut #au #taehyung au #bts au

5K notes · View notes

xenizaation · 2 years

Text

the baseball club

Warning! Sexual content ahead! Minors please do not interact!

pairing: fem! reader x ateez

genre: sitcom? , high school! au, smut

word count: 5.2k

warnings: explicit language, mentions of violence, choking, protected sex, exhibitionism.

a/n: this chapter is completely scandalous and i admit i have no shame and yeah i know it's a mess and honestly i can't wait to finish this series and all that taken in consideration, i still love writing for it, and why do i use 'and' so much????? anyway guys, i hope you enjoy! stay safe! xoxo

⬅️previous chapter┃series m.list┃last chapter➡️(coming soon)

there was no way in hell you could misread someone this badly, right?

mingi was a stranger, and that definitely made you overlook the things you knew about him when you asked yourself certain things about what he did, but there was no way he was a criminal.

'the new guy stabbed someone at his previous school, can you believe it?' a text followed by a link to an article on a sketchy site about mingi stabbing a teacher in a messy altercation which resulted in him being expelled coincidentally posted right when he transferred to your school.

that had to be fake and turns out it was when you looked more closely, but still, people couldn't get the rumor out of their mouths. the rumor that gave shivers down your spine made your peers talk about it with such joy that it actually disgusted you in some kind of way. how they were happy they found out the 'truth' and not worried that if it was actually true, a person actually got hurt. people were so easy to be tricked and so thirsty for an answer, that they didn't even bother to question it for a lie.

when you got to school, everyone was still talking about it, even though you patiently explained in multiple group chats how the article was fake, and you shouldn't spread rumors that are actually grave accusations. it was safe to say that you didn't want to be in mingi's shoes.

as you sat in your usual place, you started to doubt that he'll even show up but you were snapped back to reality when you felt the chair next to you being pulled. mingi seemed as relaxed as ever, sitting on his chair and stretching out his legs after greeting you. you watched him taking out his book from his bag and placing it gently on the desk.

"you ok?" you ask the silver-haired boy, a bit of concern lying behind your words.

he looks at you with wide eyes and lips held in a tight pout as he tries to figure out what you're asking him.

"ooooh," mingi exclaims, his features dissolving into a relieved expression as he realizes. didn't the whole thing affect him at all? you were sure that he'd seen the link spreading out in the school forums and completely certain that he heard at least one person talking about how 'he is a criminal and should be locked up in jail' in the hallways like you did. "you mean the article?"

you nod.

"yeah, just the jerks at my old school messing with me."

you nod again, looking into his eyes. it could be a lie, everything he says, but you don't believe it is.

"don't you think i'm a criminal?" he questions as he leans closer to you and pokes at your ribs with a long index finger.

"no," you laugh in response. "i actually know you a bit better than any of these people do." you add, elbowing him back in his arm jokingly.

if you didn't know better you'd say he looks relieved to hear that coming from you. the only other person that knows him is yeosang, and he decided today (of all freaking days) to not show up on time for moral support.

"i wonder how long this is gonna circle around..." he says as he plays with his fingers on the sturdy surface of the desk in front of him.

"a couple of days at best, they'll find something spicier when this starts to die down." you inform your friend of the usual endeavors in your high school.

maybe this was a good time to talk to him about the clubs and inform him that he was in high demand for the people leading them. now, more than ever, mingi would need a supportive community so the gossip won't get to him, and you weren't enough to help him.

but right when you open your mouth, you get distracted by the wave of students coming into the classroom, all led by the blue-eyed girl who desperately wanted you to have an opinion about mingi and yeosang's relationship status, who is holding a phone out and coming with determined footsteps towards the two of you.

"hey, new guy! is it true? did you really stab someone?" she asks in an annoying tone that almost becomes a shout towards the end, pointing the phone towards mingi. everyone was looking at the both of you, whispering to each other things that you already heard in the hallways, most probably.

"guys, come on, you saw it's fake news!" you say, trying to remove the spotlight from your desk mate, and not necessarily point it towards yourself, but on the subject discussed.

"even if it is, what did you do to make someone come up with such a lie about you, huh?" she asks him again and you're sure you feel how uncomfortable mingi is just by looking at him.

if there's one thing you could never allow, that was bullying. and the blonde girl in front of you sure wasn't far from being an aggressor if she kept acting like that.

"holy fuck, can you let him be?" you say, throwing your arms out as you rise up from your seat.

the way almost all of your mates have been only rude and kept focusing on every other thing about mingi but welcoming him since he came really started to get on your nerves. you weren't one to lash out, especially with the status you so much struggled to maintain all this time, but you weren't one to shut up when someone was wronged either.

"not until he tells us what got him expelled," she says again, in a n even more high pitched tone that makes everyone in the room silent and focused on mingi and on what he has to say.

you feel fury burning in the depth of your stomach as you look at the annoying girl and you realize that the day has come when you finally have to beat a bitch up.

"that's none of your business." a solemn voice can be heard behind of all the people gathered at the door.

well, the motherfucker was on time after all.

"can y'all get to classes before we have some problems over here?" yeosang says calmly as he strolls through the crowd towards his seat.

there are people who roll their eyes, who sigh because nothing interesting ended up happening, but you? you are grateful. and you never thought you'd be grateful for kang yeosang showing up.

"do you think anyone else is gonna come?"

no, was the short honest answer. but you couldn't do that to the poor boy you just met two months ago, the one no one talked to but still invited everyone to his party when his parents weren't home.

"yeah," you told yeosang, looking around the room and studying every decoration in his house. his parents were filthy rich and even though you couldn't tell from his behavior, you could tell as soon as you saw the outside of the house. "but even if they don't, we can have some fun together."

the first year of high school was hard for everyone and having a party where no one showed up definitely didn't help, so you were certainly not going to leave him all on his own.

"uhmm, i'm gay." yeosang murmured as he looked you in the eyes with concern.

you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"dude, i know! not that kind of fun." you said as you continued to mock him for thinking you were insinuating something different.

you and yeosang simply clicked. maybe it was because you did make-up on each other's faces or maybe it was all the crying over the most romantic, tragic movies you could and find turning the party into a sleepover, but from that moment yeosang remained the only friend you would intentionally see outside of school or other gatherings like parties people threw. the only one who asked you how you feel and the only one who cared enough to actually listen to the answer.

"thanks for showing up." he said the next day, smiling brightly as he walked you to the door before you left.

the memory makes you smile as you walk down the hallway at the end of the day, going once again through everything that happened today and not being able to stop your mind from associating your gratefulness with yeosang's. you should be even now, had he shown up a second later, you would now be in detention with a fistful of that annoying little brat's hair and not on your way home.

"y/n!" a specific shout of your name that instantly makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

talking of annoying little brats.

"wooyoung!" you greet as you turn on your heels to meet the boy's gaze. your sarcastic tone makes it hard for any joy to be detected behind your words "i see you're still alive and well."

of course, he is. satan can never die.

"it's good to see you too." the way his lips are curled on his face tells you anything but this.

you trace your steps back until you come to face wooyoung, a tad bit taller than you, but sure acting like he's way higher than you, and not only in height.

you forgot how many times you actually verbally sparred with the guy. on how many occasions did he leave you so stupefied with his takes on matters that you just couldn't help but go off on him. his way of being a pompous ass who acted like he knew everything scratched you in such a wrong way that you sometimes couldn't help but just shout at him from across the classroom when he would have an idiotic monologue.

of course, the first few times wooyoung pissed you off and you snapped back at him, people were shocked. but with time, it turned into such frequent encounters that everyone sort of got used to them. people weren't really taking sides, but you knew you were speaking for more than yourself whenever you engaged into an argument with wooyoung.

you also knew that he wasn't such a bad guy. was he as dumb as a donkey sometimes? sure. but he didn't always act like that. he always took care of his teammates after every game, and even if you won't admit it, he was good at baseball. still, that wasn't enough for you to turn a blind eye on his side commentaries every now and then.

"so, what have you been up to?" wooyoung asks as he leans back on the wall next to the door of the boy's locker room.

you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. he never showed any interest in you or what you did, so there was definitely a hidden motive for his question.

"what do you care?"

"oh, come on, i'm trying to mend our relationship over here. can't we be friends for once?" the way he coats his lies in a sweet tone almost makes you believe him. you huff before starting a quiet chuckle and right when you part your lips to throw a not-so-kind-word towards wooyoung, the door opens and san captivates both of your attention.

he lays eyes on you first, a look you didn't quite see on him and if you didn't know better, you'd say that he missed you. he scans wooyoung next, and then you again, and then he leans his head to the right.

"did i barge in on something?" he asks curiously.

san was well aware of the relationship between you and his best friend. part of why he never told him of the affairs that happened in between the two of you a few months back. 'what would wooyoung say if i told him i'm fucking his mortal enemy?' made you laugh and feel even more excited for keeping things flowing. the best part was that he was right, you were fucking the best friend of the closest person you could name your rival- of course, in the most superficial way possible. you only liked adding this overly-dramatic veil to a high school feud based on how you simply annoyed each other.

"well, you actually barged out o-"

"no." you interrupt wooyoung who shoots you a displeased look. you add one small victory to the other ones. "get to the point, jung."

wooyoung sighs as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head looking at san. they make eye contact for a brief moment before san looks down at his gym back, zipping it up.

"your boyfriend must be so happy."

just as quick as his hand zipped the bag up, san's gaze shoots up at you, a slight crease forming in between his eyebrows. honestly, wooyoung caught you a bit off guard. of course, you put on a confused look but there was more to it. did he talk about yunho? did he somehow see you two yesterday? was that why he was so cocky about talking to you today?

"oh wait, i forgot he's playing for my league." wooyoung adds before breaking into a short laugh.

mingi. of course he was talking about mingi. thank god he was talking about mingi.

or not. why does everyone keep talking about mingi?

"let me guess, you want him to join your club and since i'm such good friends with him, i should be the one to let him know, right?" you ask on an ironic tone. it's getting tiring for all these people to ask you to sway mingi on their side instead of doing it themselves.

"exactly. and i know that the rest of the clubs asked this of you already but..." he takes a break as he straightens his back, throwing an arm over san's wide shoulders and pulling him closer. "maybe we could persuade you," and his voice comes out like one from a movie. an erotic one, more precisely. "and you can convince him to join our club instead."

his look is almost like he knows what you and san did over the summer, but you know he doesn't. you and san promised you'd keep it secret, and if wooyoung knew, he would definitely be straightforward about it.

still, you huff in amusement at his insinuation.

"did it hurt?" you ask the shorter boy.

"when i fell from heaven?" he asks back, a twisted smirk staining his face.

"no. when the nurse dropped you on your fucking head after birth." you answer and take great pride in how his smile drops entirely, leaving him to stare blankly at you. "you're an idiot if you think i have any say in his decision."

did he even read the fake article? did he want mingi on his side because he read it and thought it was true? wooyoung seemed like the kind of guy who would want to keep those kinds of people close just for the fun of it.

"jeez, you don't have to be a bitch about it. just say you don't have the intelligence necessary to convince someone to do something and we'll stop here." he dismisses with a flick of a hand.

you slap his palm away from where it twists in front of your face.

"i'm not his fucking mom."

"yeah, i figured. you seem like you have other kinks." he teases.

you instinctively look over to san, who barely manages to contain his smirk after hearing his friend's words. you'd like to think that he's amused of the fact that he actually knows some of your kinks and not because what wooyoung said is funny in any way. he was quiet this whole time, only spectating to the exchange of words in between you and wooyoung, something he usually did, so it wasn't strange. san said more with his body than he did with his words.

"is your goal in life to annoy me?" you direct your attention to wooyoung yet again.

"no, my goal in life is to exceed everyone's expectations of me." he says, puffing his chest with pride like he said the wisest thing since aristotle last walked the earth.

"then, congratulations! you achieved it!" you say with the fakest happy tone. "i never thought you could ever be more fucking annoying than you already were."

at this point, you were sure you could see the veins on his neck popping out as he struggled to pick the words for a comeback. it didn't happen though, and as san leaned over to his ear and whispered something, the fire in his eyes seemed to dull down and his shoulders became more relaxed.

"you got me this time, y/n." he admits. unusual for him to back out of a fight so easily. you frown and smile at the same time as he starts stepping away, leaving you and san facing each other as both of you watch the boy stroll down the hallway.

strange how wooyoung was the biggest manipulator you knew, and yet was so easily manipulated by san. you couldn't blame him though, you let yourself swayed by san's words more times than you'd admit out loud.

"can i have a word?" san's soft voice steals your attention from wooyoung, farther away with each step. you nod and he opens the door to the locker room, inviting you in. you hesitate for a bit, looking around the empty hallway before entering. he follows in your footsteps closely, closing the door after him.

"look, i really am sick of talking about min..."

"oh, i don't give a shit about that." san interrupts as he takes a seat on the nearest bench. "saw you with yunho yesterday."

you try to keep the horror from showing on your face as one of your hands shoots to move on strand of hair from your face. when exactly did he see you with yunho?

there were two options and one of them was wrong.

"he gave you a ride home i suppose." he completes, studying your gaze closely. you feel relief take over your body as you let it move naturally towards san, sitting right next to him. so it was the correct option, he must've seen you at school.

taking in consideration that this room is constantly filled with boys, it doesn't smell that bad. still, the infectious nuance of the spray deodorants doesn't caress your nose gently, covering the beautiful floral tones of san's perfume. you look around the room, anywhere other than san, and you try to think of what he is really trying to say with those words.

"he did." you confirm.

"you never let me take you home." he says, lowering his head as he looks somewhere in between his thighs.

there was an emotional part of san that would not combine well with the other things he possessed. one that would be completely opposite from the tough exterior he chose to wear around. you knew it well though, he revealed many things to you during the time spent together and you managed to get to know this side of him better. the side of him that felt.

jealousy was new though. if that was what this was.

"i don't think i have to explain myself to you, do i?"

it's a common thing for you to get rude when you're feeling put on the spot. with time, you've found that it's the best defense.

too bad san already knows his way around your attitudes.

"you didn't have to fuck me all summer either," he says, looking at you from the side. "and yet, you still did." san completes as he leans his shoulder into yours. you look at him closely and study the smirk on his face, the proud one he would always have whenever he was quick enough to reply in the same manner you threw your words at him.

you would like to add one more thing to what he said. you fucked him all summer and ghosted him afterwards, so he should be more humble about it. and even though the words sit on the tip of your tongue, waiting for you to open your mouth so they can jump out on his beautiful face, you don't let them. and that could be cause of his face that is stupidly close to yours, and his breath still smells of watermelon flavored bubblegum which arises in you memories of all the times you felt the scent coming out his mouth just before you kissed him. and he kissed you back. with so much passion that you sometimes wondered 'is there a chance that this guy actually likes me?'. but when you ghosted him, you received the unspoken answer.

no.

and it hurt, looking back seeing how he never texted you to ask if anything's wrong. how he never tried to initiate anything like you always did. you were glad you stopped, you did yourself the biggest favor of not letting your heart catch feelings for a boy who simply wanted something less.

you roll your eyes as you get up from the bench, walking towards the door as you fix the strap of your bag on your shoulder. as if there weren't enough boys annoying you about stuff already, he had to take part as well.

"leaving already?" he asks as he gets up from his seat.

"well, if you have nothing else to say..." you say as you turn to face him.

san's place in the baseball team was the one of the baserunner. he seemed to integrate that in his daily life, seeing how in the blink of an eye he was suddenly in front of you, removing the strap of the bag off your shoulder and gently placing it on the floor. backing away into the door, he follows your every tiny step with more confident ones, until your back is smacked against the blue surface.

looking into his eyes might be the worst thing you could ever do, and yet you can't help yourself from watching the desire in his eyes as his hand slowly creeps up on the skin of your neck until it reaches your jaw and cups your cheek. you swallow the knot in your throat, trying to resist the way his face is so close to you, lips almost brushing over yours as his other hand finds purchase on your hip, pulling you closer to him.

is there a universe where you don't feel like san has complete control over you, your body or your desires?

probably not.

he huffed out a chuckle in response to your containment, letting his lips travel lower, brushing over your jaw and starting to hungrily devour your exposed neck. it was ridiculous to think about how wet you already felt from so little contact.

"do you like him?" san asks with a muffled voice, his lips still buried in the skin of your neck, sending vibrations in all your body with each and every word. it was making you embarrassingly light-headed, how his hands felt on your body- now unbuttoning your white shirt, how his torso was pressed softly against yours in attempt to keep you fixed against the door behind you, how his breath would tickle your neck ever so lightly in between his words.

"what if i do?" you interrogate back, giving your hands freedom to run across his wide shoulders, pulling him closer.

"thought you only liked me." san answers, and you simply know that the annoyance in his voice- the one that underlined his earlier words, the one you mistook for jealousy- was not because he ever cared about you in the same way that you did, more than a sex partner, but because he felt like something only he had access to was slowly being swiped away from him.

"never said that." you struggle to get out, words coming out almost as a desperate moan when his cold hands made contact with your breasts, kneading the flesh inside the bra with fervor.

"never said otherwise, either." san groans as he grinds his torso on yours, making sure you feel every single part of him, especially the one that is getting hard now that he finally got his hands on you again.

his plump lips finally climb up your body again until they rest on top of yours, moving in an all too familiar manner that arises more in you than you'd ever wish. when you feel his tongue prodding at your entrance you part your lips and let him dive in, swirling your own tongue around his while you tangle your fingers in his black hair.

his hands slowly go down your waist and hips, until they reach your bare thighs, raising up your skirt as they travel around and massage your ass cheeks. you moan into his mouth, pulling his head away from yours as a result of sudden rationality, to look into his heavy-lidded eyes.

"what if someone comes in?" you ask quietly, and in return san only kisses the rest of your face, unable to stop his hedonistic thirst.

"everyone's gone home," he says, taking over your lips again while one of his hands moves to your front to cup your heat gently as the other locks the door.

"except the janitor." san adds, moving the material covering your throbbing pussy to the side. "make sure you're quiet." is all he says as he presses two fingers on your clit, taking you by surprise and eliciting a whimper from you.

he's quick to kiss you back to drown the sounds you can't control from escaping your body as his fingers sweetly caress your clit, drawing unknown patterns all over it. your hips buck forward to get more of his intoxicating touch and to get to feel him again, the hardness in his pants that only makes your hole clench around nothing.

"we'll have to be quick," he says as he pulls away from you completely, stepping back and leaning down to get a condom from somewhere inside his spacious gym bag.

san comes in front of you again, leaving you no time to show any of the frustration over the fact that he denied you of the pleasure building up inside of you.

"will you do the honors?" san asks as he hands you the small package.

you take it from his hands quickly, ripping it open as he swiftly takes his shirt off, leaving you to wonder upon his body once again, this time in as much daylight as the small windows allow to enter the room. he slides his pants down the middle of his thighs, letting his hardened member spring free in your sight. you inhale sharply, guiding your hands towards his cock to slide the rubber smoothly down his length.

somewhere in the deep corners of your brain you were still waiting for a drop of common sense to wake you up from this horny frenzy and to make you realize how wrong this situation is. but being in this horny frenzy, the wrongfulness of the situation only made it feel more exciting.

so there you were, legs now crossed around san's waist as he positioned himself with your entrance, sliding in slowly.

"fuck, you're tighter than i remember." he groaned in the crook of your neck.

indeed, you felt it too.

it's been a while since you had any action, so it was only natural that your walls pressed down on his veiny shaft the way they did. looking down to where he was sliding in and out of you made you clench even harder around him, pulling out a soft moan from him.

your sweaty back was now soaking through your shirt, making the cold surface of the door give you shivers as you were trying to contain every sound threatening to come out of your mouth every time san thrust deeper inside you.

his chest glistening with sweat was almost as captivating as the frown that would form on his face every time he slid inside you from a certain different angle that would make your eyes roll to the back of your head. your walls were welcoming him back in a pleasant way after such a long time without feeling him.

the room was filled with your swallowed moans and his silent groans, desperately trying to hide how each of you desired their release more and more by the second. san's hand climbed up your revealed torso, hugging your neck from one side to the other at its base, thumb squeezing little by little, leaving you without at least half the amount of oxygen you'd need to even think anymore right now.

the pace he set for himself was almost not human, smashing his hips into you like he tried to prove how much he missed you- or how much you missed him, stretching you out as you felt every inch of him going deeper and faster inside of you.

the vibrations that announced an orgasm started to make their appearance in the lower part of your body, and you only gasped sharply when san's hold grew even tighter making you see little stars in the corners of your eyes in the most delicious way as you came undone all over his covered cock- legs trembling and threatening to lose their hold around san's body as you jolted under his touch.

your pulsating walls were the last drop for san, a few more thrusts and he stills deep inside you, slowly releasing his hold on your neck and letting your body regain its necessary airflow. his breaths are deep, trying to help him come back from the unbelievable high that made him fill the condom with his hot cum. you press your lips against his again, tasting the sweet watermelon on his tongue and bathing in the sensation of his pillowy lips.

he places you down gently, taking care to slide your panties back in place and to fix your skirt before removing the condom and tying it to throw it in the bin next to you, hiding it in a cup on the surface. he pulls up his pants as you button your shirt, watching the sweat drip down his muscular back as he picks his own shirt off the floor and slides it over his head.

there's a quietness around the two of you that certainly feels uncomfortable. it's the kind of silence that occurs when both of you want to say something but neither of you has enough balls to say it.

ironic, he had enough balls to fuck you in the locker room.

"can i drive you home?" san asks as he looks over to you.

you fix the strap of your bag on your shoulder again as you think it over. an honest friendly gesture, one that comes from no place you would've hoped for two months ago when you would've liked san as something more than a friend with benefits but he was settled for that only.

you could give san every part of your body and he still wouldn't be satisfied if you didn't allow him a peek into your soul- something you weren't able to do back then.

"sure." you smile.

this is either the beginning or the end of something.

last chapter➡️┃taglist form (if you want to know when i’ll post the next chapter)

taglist: @sweetteez @jin-neck-shaft @lovelyvitamin @1sieun @shegotboreddsoo @mirror-juliet @enhypp @noryyyyyyyyy @gayliljoong @assiamor @fairygirl18 @strawberry-joong @jayb17 @revehosh

thank you all for the support! <3

259 notes · View notes