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#USUALLY (gestures to them literally sneaking out of the house)
florshedworf · 1 month
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i was wondering why they were burning dolls because to me that seemed really rebellious even for them, until i rememebered
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OHH YEAHHH
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agustdiv1ne · 9 months
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💨‧₊˚.° 11:58 p.m. (m) — choi yeonjun & kang taehyun
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genre: smսt, threesome, doms!fratboys!taejun, sub!fem!reader, friends to ???, high sex + car sex = 😵‍💫
wc: 4.9k (someone sedate me pls)
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becoming friends with frat boys was never part of your plan for college. 
alas, here you are, two of them basically surgically attached to your hip. your first semester of junior year has been full of surprises thus far, your blooming friendship with yeonjun and taehyun being the most significant one; what started out as partners for a project has transformed into a close friendship with the two guys, and your new norm now consists of grabbing starbucks together before heading to class, hitting the gym with either one or both of them in tow, and — for better or for worse — attending their frat’s infamous parties every weekend.
and lucky you: you’ve just arrived at one.
as you climb the steps of tau chi tau’s gigantic house, you spot the bright blond hair of one of the pledges on door duty — your favorite pledge, actually. 
“sunoo!” you greet, tackling him into a hug as soon as you reach him. he reciprocates easily, his lips curling into a small smile before he’s pulling away.
“you’re late,” he teases. “your boyfriends are already high off their asses.”
you scoff, nudging his shoulder with a closed fist. “first of all, they’re not my boyfriends. second of all, they knew i wasn’t gonna be here for a while, and i promised i’d be their d.d. tonight, so,” you shrug. he rolls his eyes playfully, but opens the door for you anyway.
“yeah, yeah, whatever. they should be in the basement,” he says, gesturing for you to go inside. “just be careful, it reeks down there.”
you laugh. “thanks, dude.”
as the front door shuts behind you, you take in the state of the house. the air is hot and humid against your skin, your shoes getting stuck on the floor that is covered with liquids you’d rather not identify. some rap song pounds in your ears, and you nod your head along to the beat as you slip between a small space between two groups, finally reaching the door that leads down to the basement. the moment you swing it open, the potent stench of weed bombards your senses. your nose scrunches up — sunoo wasn’t wrong.
in vain, you wave your hand in front of your face as you make your descent. the haze floating in the air grows a bit thicker the further that you go, your only goal now being to get them out of here before you start feeling the effects as well. you eventually have to drive, for christ’s sake, and you’re not looking to get a dui anytime soon. with one last step, you make it to the bottom of the staircase. the music is quieter down here, but the smell is far worse than upstairs. a familiar laugh pulls your attention to the couch facing away from you, two very familiar heads of hair catching your attention. as you sneak up behind them, you press your index finger against your lips, silently telling beomgyu — who sits on the couch opposite to them — to keep quiet. he simply smirks at you.
“y/n’s here,” he calls. annoyed, you flip him the bird and send him a scalding glare before leaning over the back of the couch, your scowl quickly being replaced by a grin. two pairs of red-rimmed eyes find yours, widening in tandem when they register that you are, in fact, there. 
“my baby!” yeonjun cries, his hands reaching up to pull you down towards him. his lips meet your forehead, pressing an aggressive kiss there, palms squishing your cheeks to hold you in place. you struggle to pull away from his grip, ignoring his pout and insistent grabby hands once you do. you sate him by linking your fingers with his. 
“you’re later than usual,” taehyun comments from next to him, a smile permanently etched on his lips, the sight a testament to his inebriated state. unlike yeonjun, he doesn’t move to touch you, perfectly content with watching. 
“i literally told you earlier that i had a paper due at twelve,” you remind him, removing your hands from yeonjun’s as you round the side of the couch, aiming to sit on the arm of it. that is, until yeonjun pulls you between them so that you rest on his left thigh and taehyun’s right. yeonjun wraps an arm around your waist, while taehyun rests a hand on your upper thigh. you try your best not to squirm. they’re your friends, but you’re not fucking blind. 
“you could’ve asked me for help,” taehyun murmurs close to your ear, squeezing the meat of your thigh. his warm breath tickles the side of your neck, and you gulp. directly across from you, beomgyu meets your flustered gaze, an amused eyebrow raised as he sinks further into the couch. you tear your eyes away from him to focus on your fingers twiddling in your lap. 
“i-i didn’t wanna bother you,” you admit, and he emits a giggle. the hand not sitting on your thigh reaches over to pinch your cheek.
“you’re so cute,” he coos, and for some reason, the praise goes straight to your center. “i wouldn’t’ve minded.”
okay, time to go. you don’t think you can handle any more of their pda, and you’re starting to feel a bit weird after inhaling all of that smoke. if you want to get to their apartment, you need to leave right now. standing, you stretch your limbs in a poor attempt to rid them of their shakiness. 
“time to go,” you voice, turning to face them. their eyes are dark and hooded as they look up at you. you falter a bit, stumbling when yeonjun rapidly leans forward and gathers you in his arms again. 
“but i don’t wannaaaa!” yeonjun whines, pulling you back onto the couch and straight onto his lap, his grip around your waist tightening enough that you’re pulled against his chest. “ten more minutes!”
sighing, you wiggle in his grasp, to no avail. you look over at taehyun for help, only to find him laughing at the sight. then, an idea pops into your mind, something that you know will appeal to both of them.
you turn your head towards yeonjun. “what if i take you to mcdonald’s?”
that gets them going. after one last odd look and crude gesture from beomgyu, you guide them out of the house and into yeonjun’s car. taehyun rides shotgun, while yeonjun mumbles in the back about how that’s unfair treatment — it’s his car, after all. despite yeonjun’s initial complaints, the drive over to the closest mcdonald’s is filled with loud, off-key singing from yeonjun and hysterical giggles from taehyun. it makes your eyes roll, but a tiny grin pulls at your lips all the while. 
“you’re lucky i love you guys,” you mumble, pulling into a spot in the parking lot after giving the drive-through worker the largest order that they have probably ever received, digging into your mcflurry as they silently inhale their burgers, fries, and their own mcflurrys. the pace at which they eat both impresses and terrifies you.
as soon as all three of you have finished, you begin the drive over to their place. you assume that they will let you stay over given how late it is, and it’s not as if they’ve ever minded before. after a few minutes, you realize how oddly quiet they’re being, and you look over to find taehyun staring at you, eyes unblinking and full of an emotion you can’t quite place. you whip your head back to the road — until you hear a sharp shink from the back. looking through the rearview mirror, you find yeonjun’s lighter poised to a brand new joint that rests between his plush lips, the flame bright and inching closer and closer to the paper.
“dude, you are not about to hotbox this car,” you groan. “put the fucking lighter down.”
“it’s my car. i can do whatever i want,” he mumbles in defiance, the lighter moving precariously closer again and illuminating his face in the dark backseat. you swing an arm between the two front seats in a poor attempt to grab the lighter. a hand moving to your thigh — taehyun’s hand — and squeezing nearly causes you to swerve the car before you gain control again. 
you glance over at the boy next to you as his fingers trail up and down your inner thigh, panic lacing your pupils, but you are distracted once again when the flame in your peripherals returns. “yeonjun, i swear to god—”
“don’t you want some?” taehyun interrupts, his hand stilling on a patch of skin high on your thigh, dangerously close to your center. “you worked hard today, you should let loose.”
you do. you really, really do. the stress built up in your muscles has become almost overbearing, and you’d think that it would be gone after your paper was out of the way, but no. honestly, all you want to do right now is relax, and taehyun’s offer is more than tempting — but you also don’t want to crash yeonjun’s car. at the same time, you are within walking distance to their apartment, so maybe…
“fine. just— just let me park first,” you concede, pulling into the nearest empty parking lot, parking in the dark back corner and subsequently cutting the headlights. twisting in your seat, you find yeonjun already prepared with an old pill bottle full of pre-rolled joints. an insane amount of them, actually. you snatch one and place it between your lips, reaching for the lighter in yeonjun’s other hand, only for him to pull it away. 
“nuh-uh,” he drawls with a lazy smirk. “c’mere.”
in curiosity, you lean forward, wondering what, exactly, his game is. he sets the bottle down, and his fingers reach up to grip your chin, fingertips lightly digging into the skin as he brings the lighter up and lights the joint for you. your stomach flips, your thighs automatically closing around taehyun’s hand. wrenching your face away, you turn towards the front again, heart racing in your chest as you take your first hit. then another. you block out the other two as you allow your high to take over. you don’t notice taehyun’s grip on you slip away.
over the course of what you think is a few minutes, your body begins to relax into the seat, head thrown back against the headrest as your brain fogs up. blurry eyes stare up at the gray ceiling. you eventually register just how hot it is, then notice the sheer amount of smoke that’s floating past your vision. a finger pokes your cheek, and you follow the hand back to taehyun. you smile subconsciously.
“such a lightweight, so cute,” he says, tapping his finger against your cheek again. you notice that he doesn’t have a joint of his own. “gimme a hit.”
“get your own,” you reply with a defiant hum, cheeks warming as you jokingly shield your joint with your body. he sighs. 
“c’mon, i just wanna try something. you trust me, right?” he murmurs. blinking hard, it takes you a moment to send him a lethargic nod. he peels the joint from your fingers with ease. “come closer.”
you obey, leaning over until mere inches separate your faces. he grabs you by the collar of your t-shirt, urging you to come closer. his eyes flit to your lips before they meet your gaze again — as if the weed wasn’t enough, this whole situation is rendering you even dizzier. 
silently, he pushes a thumb against your lips, pressing forward to part them. your mouth immediately accommodates the digit, and it presses against your tongue for a moment before dragging down to your bottom lip, your saliva mixing with your lipgloss. something quiet and pathetic sounds from your throat, your breath stuttering in your chest when he bites down on his own lip, his big, wide eyes far from innocent as he stares at you.
“keep it open,” he quietly orders, voice low and demanding, before he removes his thumb completely. you sit there, mouth agape like a fish out of water while he places your joint to his lips and inhales deeply. the seam of his lips closes immediately. then, he leans in, his lips mere millimeters away from yours. he holds your gaze as he opens his mouth and blows the smoke into your mouth, and you inhale it with a shaky breath. it travels down your throat and deep into your lungs, but the heat that spreads through your body isn’t from the smoke — no, it’s something overwhelmingly feverish. needy, wanton. 
the moment your eyes flutter close, taehyun’s lips are on yours, the taste of him sweet from the ice cream he ate earlier. the smoke you exhale passes between your parted mouths, drifting out into the cabin of the car. he feels around for the cupholder, then for his soda, using a single hand to pop open the lid before he’s dunking the lit blunt into the liquid, the movement of his lips unwavering all the while. he wastes no time in curling his palm around the nape of your neck, pulling you closer as he devours you whole. 
“holy fuck,” you vaguely hear yeonjun gasp, too far gone in the sensation of the languid, saliva-slicked kiss. it feels as if you are floating on top of a cloud, and you move to grab at his bicep to ground yourself. taehyun slips his tongue past your lips, curling the muscle around your own and immediately establishing his power over you. whining into his mouth, you attempt to pull away, only for yeonjun to cup your face and take over the kiss. taehyun’s hand slides down your neck and to one of your covered breasts, groping the soft mound of flesh over the fabric of your t-shirt. you moan into yeonjun’s mouth.
gentle hands pull you over the center console and into the back, yet yeonjun doesn’t break the kiss as he gathers you in his lap, your trembling thighs straddling his hips. you feel his cock press directly into your center when presses you down by your hips. your arms throw themselves around his neck, your lips slotting against his like a matching puzzle piece. the car rocks when taehyun slinks to the back as well, but yeonjun refuses to share you, hips angling upwards to grind his boner harder against your panty-clad core. 
“quit hogging her, you asshole,” taehyun growls from next to you, flipping your skirt up in the process to reveal your lacy panties to their eyes. the man next to you caresses the swell of your ass before landing a light smack. you jolt on top of yeonjun with a pathetic squeak, and his hand comes down again. in stark contrast to his actions, his tone is kind, perhaps a bit condescending, as he addresses you, “ooh, that feels good, doesn’t it? our baby likes to be spanked?”
their baby? something warm fills your veins at that, a quiet whimper muffled by yeonjun’s mouth. with the thin fabric of your panties embarrassingly sticking to your folds, you tear your lips away from yeonjun’s to hide your face in his chest, unable to face either of them. however, the rhythm of your hips does not falter. yeonjun forces you to look at taehyun with a firm grip that squishes your cheeks together, your lip puckering involuntarily. 
“answer him.” his warm breath fans over your ear as he speaks. a shiver racks your body despite the feverish heat surging through your body. knowing your voice will betray you, you opt for a shaky nod. 
taehyun’s gaze burns into your own, the blunt, rounded edges sharpened by lust. his dark pupils are the only thing that you can see in full clarity, the rest a foggy blur. “use your words.”
“yes,” you mumble, eyes screwed shut and your cheeks hotter than they’ve ever felt before. the feeling has spread down to your neck, your chest, the epicenter settling in your lower stomach. it festers there and tears at your insides like a feral beast and all you can think about is them — them using you, them fucking you. your breathing grows heavier before you feel a tap to your cheek, the skin stinging at the contact. 
“open your eyes, baby.”
you’re not sure who says it, but either way, you submit. eyelids fluttering open, you find both of them peering at you like two wolves stalking a soft, wide-eyed little lamb. your tongue feels like sandpaper in your mouth when they exchange scheming looks, their hands all over you as they maneuver your body as if you’re a doll. when did they plan this? how did you not notice their soft murmurs? 
you end up sitting between them, legs spread wide with one leg thrown over each of their laps. taehyun aims his focus towards your breasts, shoving your t-shirt up and yanking your bra down with little care, a hand tweaking one of your tits as the other curls itself in your hair and yanking your head back against the headrest. you cry at the sensation of his lips mouthing at your neck and his fingers pulling and groping your sensitive flesh. on the other side of you, yeonjun wastes no time in attempting to divert your attention back to him. shifting your panties to the side, he caresses your folds before dipping down to your entrance and groaning. 
“oh my god, you’re fucking soaked,” he groans as he gathers your wetness on his fingertips. “tae, you gotta feel her.”
said man’s hand leaves your breast, reaching down to join yeonjun’s at your center. a light brush over your clit causes your hips to twitch before he’s reaching down to swipe your entrance and—
“shit, you’re right,” taehyun breathes against your neck. “that’s so hot.”
without speaking, they begin to work in tandem as they pick you apart. a quiet, barely there voice in the back of your mind wonders if they’ve done this before, but that thought is quickly shooed away once two of yeonjun’s long fingers slide into your needy hole to the knuckle, the delicious stretch of your walls causing you to keen. your spine arches off of the seat when he begins to slide them in and out, curling up and grinding into that sensitive little spot inside you that you can never quite hit. meanwhile, taehyun ghosts a finger over your clit that aches for stimulation, his free hand digging into your thigh to keep you spread wide for them, your leg twitching in his grasp. he circles the sensitive bud as yeonjun adds a third finger to the mix, his movements growing faster as he feels your walls relax around his digits. taehyun ducks his head down to your breast, wrapping his lips around your nipple, his teeth scraping lightly against it. crying out, you plead for them to keep going. 
“such a tight little pussy,” yeonjun rambles directly into your ear, and you clench around his fingers. he nibbles at your earlobe before he continues, voice deep and growly and too much. fuck, it’s too much. “you look s’sexy right now, y’know that? so fuckin’ pretty. gonna make sure you can’t think about anything but us— gonna fuck you so dumb, baby. haven't even had our cocks ‘n you’re already losing it. s’cute.” 
with how wound up you are already, it doesn’t take long for the heat building in your stomach to bubble over, the overwhelming sensations all over your body coaxing you through your intense orgasm, waves a pleasure wracking your trembling body, your release coating yeonjun’s fingers while taehyun leans up to capture your lips. your whimpers are muffled by his mouth. the pleasure seems to have no beginning nor end, dizzying and causing your mind to drift somewhere far away, barely able to reciprocate the kiss. neither of them stop their ministrations until you’re pawing at their hands with a pitiful whine, your words staccato and incoherent.
you sit there, chest heaving and your clothes disheveled, barely able to comprehend the way the two boys argue over who should have you first. hands fly in front of your vision, a closed fist versus a flat hand, and though you can barely see through the smoke floating through the air and your terribly cloudy vision, you recognize that they’re playing a petty game of rock-paper-scissors. a dopey giggle shakes your body as you throw your head back against the back seat. they share a concerned glance. 
“y/n? can you look at me?” taehyun carefully asks. your empty-headed grin remains on your face while you turn to face him, humming in half-baked acknowledgment. he frowns, a hand coming up to cup your face as he takes in your red-rimmed, glazed over eyes. he peers around you towards yeonjun. “i don’t know if she can take more, jun.”
the words sober you up slightly, your grin dropping. “n-no! wan’ more, wan’ your cocks,” you ramble. “need them, please.”
“you heard her. she needs us,” yeonjun muses, already reaching for your loose limbs. “‘n i won, so c’mere, baby.”
yeonjun gathers you into his lap like earlier. this time, however, you feel his tip pressing at your fluttering entrance, an arm around your waist to hold you up. he looks up at you with a smirk. “ready, baby?”
you nod, and he wastes no time to begin slowly pushing your hips down. the flared, leaky head of his cock breaches your entrance. you whine, walls fluttering around him already as he moans. the rest of him presses into you inch by inch. it seems as if you can feel him everywhere — in your stomach, in your throat, the length of his cock almost too much for you to handle. the tip curves perfectly against your, his shaft grinding against your g-spot as he gently rocks his hips, allowing you to adjust to the overwhelming stretch. your whines grow pitchier as he finds his rhythm, hands on your waist as he bounces you up and down on his cock. he curses under his breath, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. he watches you with his tongue between his teeth, lips curled into something cruel and patronizing.
“feelin’ good, pretty?” he breathes, eyes rolling back into his skull as he begins to snap his hips to meet your own. the slap of skin grows louder, echoing throughout the car along with each of your moans and whines. your eyelids flutter, speechless, a cry tearing from your throat when he swipes a thumb over your slick clit, your walls tightening further around him. he doesn’t seem to mind your lack of response, and with a string of curses, he slams you down harder, lips clashing with yours as both of you chase your highs. desperation coats your tongues as he bites down on your bottom lip, pulling it back as you whine, clinging to him desperately, nails biting his skin and leaving deep half-moons in their wake. the slight sting of pain spurs him on, pulling away to spew filthy words into your ear.
“gonna fuckin’ cum deep inside you— ohh fuck, you seem to want that, hm? t-tightened so much around me. you need my cum, don’t you? say you need it,” he demands, holding your face close to his, dark pupils searing into your skin. a light slap to your cheek wakes you up a little. “c’mon— shit. say it or i won’t give it to you.”
“n-need it!” you unabashedly sob, feeling your high hit you. “please, jjunie, cum in me. pleasepleasepleaseplease—”
a deep groan cuts your pleas off, a warmth that floods your walls following close behind. he paints your insides white as he whimpers against your neck, hips twitching as he fucks it further into your hole. you quiver on top of him, holding him close with your arms slung around his neck, nearly in tears at how amazing it feels, sweat clinging to your skin and sticking to your shirt. it takes you much longer to come down this time, your body twitching erratically as the aftershocks continue to roll through your body. 
“jesus christ,” taehyun mutters next to you, and you remove your face from yeonjun’s violet hair to look over at him. his cock lays heavy in his hand, veins bulging as he strokes up and down, pausing at the top to swipe the bead of precum at the tip and smear it over the angry head. the sight causes your mouth to water. the urge to feel him against your tongue is almost too much for you to bear. sliding off of yeonjun with a whine and sore legs, you go to lean down for a taste — before taehyun stops you with a firm hand.
“what do you think you’re doing?” he asks, jaw set as he leers over you. 
“i-i just wanted to—”
“nuh-uh, baby. you don’t just get to do what you want. jun and i are in charge here,” he says, squeezing your jaw roughly. “now, get on your back. head on jun’s lap.”
silently, you do just that, finding yeonjun’s dick already rock hard again right near your face. your juices mixed with his cum gives his lengthy cock a light sheen in the low light, but your attention is soon pulled back to taehyun when he wraps his legs around his waist. towering above you, he guides his head along your slick folds, smearing the remnants of your and yeonjun’s last orgasm along himself. he taps it against your clit, chuckling when your hips jump.
“such a sensitive little thing,” he coos. taehyun doesn’t warn you as he guides his cock to your entrance and pushes his hips forward in one fluid motion, burying himself to the hilt in seconds. the feeling of his cock inside you is far different than yeonjun’s; taehyun’s is a little shorter, but much thicker, the stretch of your hole borderline painful. 
“h-holy fuck, you’re tight,” he gasps, voice sharp as he tries to hold himself together, resting there for a moment as he allows you to adjust to the sudden intrusion. the moment your hips start to grind against him, his jaw ticks, rolling his hips into you as he watches your brows furrow and mouth fall open into an ‘o.’ hands grip your waist as his thrusts quickly sharpen, harder and deeper and cruel. you blink up at him, whining. smoke hangs around his head like a halo, but the cruel snap of his hips is far from holy. 
diverting your gaze away, yeonjun poises his tip at your lips for you to suckle, breathing shaky as your soft tongue delivers kitten licks to the head. just as he curls a hand in your hair, you slip your tongue into the small slit at the very top as your moans vibrate against him, reveling in how he hisses at the feeling, his thighs flexing beneath your head. your dopey smile returns, eyes rolling back as taehyun continues his hard thrusts, quiet grunts falling from his lips as angles his hips upward in an attempt to get your gaze back on him. it works, your eyes widening adorably as he presses his cock right against your g-spot. his teeth graze his bottom lip, biting down hard when he feels you clench around him, a direct result of yeonjun tweaking one of your puffy nipples. 
taehyun is quiet as he fucks you, only quiet curses coming from him as he uses your body to chase his orgasm. a hand slides up your stomach to wrap loosely around your throat. he barely puts any pressure, but it’s enough to send you reeling, a third high, weaker in magnitude washing over you. after the amount of teasing he put himself through earlier, taehyun isn’t far behind, fingers slightly tightening against your neck as he thrusts into you quicker, coaxing you through your orgasm as his own finally hits him. his moans are high-pitched and whiny as he spills inside you, his cum mixing with yours and yeonjun’s, sticky and hot and satisfying. yeonjun cums against your lips immediately after, forcing you to take his tip into your mouth to taste him. you greedily swallow his release, allowing him to gather the escaped liquid with his fingers and shove it against your tongue. 
pulling out, taehyun watches as the thick, white liquid spills from your hole and onto yeonjun’s leather seats. he gulps, pushing it back into you with thin, lithe fingers as you barely react, brain practically rendered mush. 
“that was…wow,” yeonjun mumbles, caressing your cheek as your eyelids flicker closed. taehyun hums in agreement as he fixes your clothes back into their proper place. lethargic and dumb and feeling so, so warm and full, you drift off into quiet, bleary dreams. their voices seem far away now, their tones faintly worried at your state. a cool feeling washes over your body, causing you to shiver, eyes blinking open for a moment to find the windows now rolled down, airing out the smoke. the cool air feels fresh in your lungs; you’re grateful for it. you close your eyes again, finally passing out for good. 
none of you are sure where this situation will lead when you wake…but you suppose you’ll just have to cross that bridge when you get to it.
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© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.
5K notes · View notes
tarjapearce · 9 months
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you got me thinking how delicious ranchero Miguel is ((and he is 🐺)) going back again to him literally training without a shirt…showing the aftermath of your night’s intimacy on his skin and I mean scratch marks on both his arms and back….👁️👁️
Tell me he won’t show that off to tease you 😭
Oh he would. 👀
He would wake up at crisp five am, his room although in the barn, would be properly conditioned with everything he needed. The least your parents could do was to give him a proper place since his job in the farm the first few weeks convinced them enough to stay.
Miguel slicked his hair back, removing the front bangs from his face as he looked in the mirror. He smirked at the scratches on his arms, his torso, and when he turned around, he saw some more littering the top of his back.
The sudden memory of him being buried womb-deep in you, made the hairs on his arms to rise. They were his battle scars, and of course would flaunt them off. He took a shower, got ready and got himself to work.
------
The blazing sun of mid day, made him remove his shirt. Sweat rolled down his back, the ripples of his muscle contracting and expanding as he shoveled Agustín food in his container.
The horse took a bit of work to manage, almost throwing him out the saddle at first, but slowly, Miguel earned his trust. It was the only time your father had actually acted out of his stuck up and despective persona to congratulate him. He had gotten Agustín as a gift from another farmer. Your father was a well known man in the community.
Miguel then moved to groom him. Soft bristle brushes, a bit of oils for the horse hair, multiple vitamin caplets and of course a new pair of shoes for Agustín front legs. He had taken a like to the horse, even had developed a distinct call just for him.
Another helper under his tutoring approached him with fresh hay for Luis, your horse, he couldn't help but notice the marks on his skin.
"Had a good night, boss?"
He chuckled and prepare the colt's bottle of milk.
"Este chamaco..." (This kid...) he'd mumble.
"I mean, if the Mrs. saw you like that she'd be horrified."
"Cuando no." (As usual) He tittered at the thought, that just evolved into an idea.
"Get Joaquín more hay, if he still refuses to eat, tell the upper boss." He threw Agustín's saddle over his shoulder and prepared him for another training session.
By this hour you and your mother would be awake and enjoying a bit of a brunch in the porch. After grooming and treating Agustín, he put the saddle on him, and rode him to stretch his legs. To his not surprise your mother was there, rambling about how some of your friends looked like they had already had intercourses.
The word made you giggle and you just earned another swat with her rolled newspaper.
He adored your laugh, before your mother could shoo him away, he tipped his hat and made a blow kissing gesture your way. You couldn't help but beam bashfully at him. The scratches of your previous night made your legs to cross in instinct. His torso bounced softly with every gallop Agustín did.
"How shameless. Parading his... unholy doings before us."
"It's awfully hot, mom. Might as well swimm a bit on the pool."
"Still, we have rules in this house, (Name)." She huffed and you rolled your eyes.
"I don't know how your father can allow him do such... things under our home! What would people say if they saw a tramp walking out from the bsrn! Oh Jesus Lord forbids it. We would be the talk of town. He should take in consideration your father's job as a head of the church."
------
After a few hours of hearing your mother's rambling and she taking her usual evening stroll with her friends, you'd sneak out in the barn, and hug him from behind.
"You made my mom flustered and angry" You giggled as he spun you around and kissed you deeply.
"Was she pissed?"
"Oh very. Called you inmoral." He smirked and bit your bottom lip, your hands raked on his head, putting his hat on your head.
"Then, I love to do inmoral things to you, chula." You giggled as he made you straddle his lap, kissing you deeper.
"That makes us two"
"Is she out?" You nodded and smirked with a teasing grind.
"Wanna do unholy things in the meantime?" He whispered in your ear with a tempting smile. Of course you'd do. Always.
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tomboy014 · 2 years
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@withjust-a-bite  I can’t believe I forgot about Bruce, Alfred and Babs, so consider this a Part 2 to this post
I’ve got a lot more of these in the works, so to keep them all together, I’ll be tagging them #extended family au
Barbara:  So, let’s start off with Barbara.  As much as she’s a part of the batfam, she’s not one of the Bruce’s adoptees and doesn’t live at the manor.  Most likely, the two have never met, but they’ve heard stories about each other.
Alfred:  Alfred usually stays behind to hold down the fort when the family goes to Amity Park, so Sam only sees him when her family goes to Wayne Manor, but he always has her favorite vegan snacks on hand when she comes over.  And the sheer amount of sarcasm and sass that man can sling at Pam without her notice is something to behold; he’s cool.  Alfred has also been sneaking Bruce’s old MRC albums and paraphernalia into Sam’s room whenever the Manson’s come to visit.  He’s been trying to get it out of the manor and hoping she’ll take it, but she’s emo, not goth.  Still, it’s more effort than her parents put out, so she appreciates the gesture.
Bruce:  Sam doesn’t spend a lot of on-on-one time with the guy.  More often than not, one of his kids gets hurt and is sent to her house to “keep out of trouble.”  It doesn’t work.  Sam once caught Tim trying to climb out the window with a broken arm. or Pam ties up his attention whenever he comes over.  At least he never pushes her to eat meat or gives her grief about her wardrobe, so that’s a plus.  Still, she’s a 14-year-old girl raging against the machine, and Bruce is part of the machine, so she can never admit she likes her uncle.
And as a bonus, INTERACTIONS WITH IDA!!!
Dick:  Holds her yarn while she knits and takes over whatever conversation they have.  Ida’s fine just letting him talk and talk, the subject doesn’t matter.  She knows that sometimes you just need to vent.
Jason:  Ida’s found the best way to keep Jason from running is to get him into the library.  They usually have a nice back and forth in the together, and Ida can recommend a lot of books.  Jason also does a lot of venting toward Ida.
Tim:  Tim is banned from all forms of caffeine in the Manson estate, so as soon as Ida can get him to sit still for 30 minutes, he usually passes out.  Tim is the one who souped up Ida’s mobility scooter.
Cass:  Likes to hold Ida’s yarn while she knits and just listen to her voice.  Her tone and body language are super relaxing and comfortable.
Steph:  Loves to sit and listen to stories about Ida in her heydays.  This woman has stories!
Duke:  Thinks Ida is super sweet, but scary insightful.
Damian:  Has yet to willingly sit with Ida and thinks this whole ritual is ridiculous.  He does not need a babysitter!  One of his siblings or Sam has to literally pin him down with their legs while they sit.  Can usually be appeased with an art book or two to flip through.
Grandma Ida:  She has figured out everyone’s vigilante activities, especially Sam.  She’s the original rebel in the family; the rest aren’t about to sneak anything past her.  Oh, the stories she and Alfred could tell… Also, it’s never shown in the show, but I’m adding elevators to Wayne Manor and the Manson Estate so Ida can get around.  I don’t care what B*tch thinks, I’m making the place accessible.
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msfbgraves · 3 months
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Since Valentines Day is coming up, got any spicy or sweet thoughts about Daniel and Terry in Knights and Pawns? Favorite/least favourite sex positions? Have they ever “done it” while in a public spot, or with others nearby? Are they still hot for each other when they’re older? What’s their favourite non-bedroom place to have sexy times? What’s something romantic or sexy the other does that makes one melt?
Least favourite positions?
Not too many gymnastics for Daniel. He likes being pampered, the darling. Favourite? Terry so likes to watch, so for him having that beautiful peachy backside and Daniel's lovely face in full view - in his lap in front of the mirror. He likes Daniel riding him anyway. But he likes taking his boy and Daniel likes being taken, so quickies are usually from behind, standing or kneeling or bent over some surface. Still, they make tender face to face love a lot, they both need that for different reasons at different times. Handjobs and oral sex too, when Daniel is very heavy with pup or has given birth. Terry likes getting him off when he's all snug in his arms and Daniel gives truly spectacular head.
Favourite room besides bedroom is the bathroom. Terry also likes odd nooks and crannies of the house when they have company, too, but openly in public? No, they've made out and wound each other up but I feel that Terry would think it's unsafe.
Are they still hot for each other later - Nonnie have you seen them? What kind of question is that? 😈😉
Valentine's is always a minibreak outside home, no pups - unless the pup is a literal infant (they sleep a lot). Terry loves grand gestures that take planning, Daniel sneaks Terry little tokens and gifts and bites to eat. Sometimes Terry leaves Daniel something on his pillow. At some point he's definitely given Daniel a claddagh ring.
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blade-liger-4ever · 6 months
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RWBY X Transformers Partnerships 2: Taiyang "Tai" Xiao Long and Ironhide - Combat Veterans
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"So, you have a daughter who loves violence and uses a brawler style, too?"
"Yeah, though Miko's technically adopted, but Ah'm not one to frag around with that bit o' nuance. How 'bout the music taste o' yours? Does she like heavy metal, too?"
"Yang's more into rock 'n roll, but I think they'll end up trading interests once Miko starts training with her new Semblance."
"Heh, yeah. Hope you don't mind her explosions."
"Hey, I was blowing crap up before I enrolled at Beacon. I can handle it."
"Alright, but jus' wait 'til she sneaks along fer a mission and ruins the enemy's day, Tai. You'll see then."
"......Ironhide, why was that so specific?"
Tai's no stranger to waking up to the sounds of explosions. Usually it's the memory of an old mission from his days with STRQ, or the echoes of his daughter training in the backyard.
So feeling the explosions taking place roughly twenty miles away from his home is very much a Bad Sign, in his book.
Throwing on some proper clothes in ten seconds, Tai races through the building to check on its occupants. Ruby's still unconscious, and Yang's stumbling out of bed because of the racket while Mercury and Neptune charge down the hall from their shared guest room. After he's calmed down the three teens, Tai orders the boys to stand guard while he goes to check things out. Tai still isn't sure what to think of the boyfriends his girls (girl and niece, his mind reproaches him) brought home, but seeing as Tai put the fear of the Lord into Neptune, and he and Qrow cross-examined Mercury to the point the ex-assassin asked if they wanted him behind bars or watching the house in case of threats, Tai felt this was a good decision as he drove out to investigate the disturbance.
That resolve wavers once he sees a red and black robot that's a good forty feet tall beating the paint (literally, he realizes) off of three scrawnier robots while half the forest behind him is scorched earth.
Holding back, Tai watches as the red and black robot battles the other three, their fighting style admittedly lackluster compared to their single, giant opponent's unpredictable brawler technique. In spite of the situation, Tai finds himself noticing the red and black robot using a myriad of styles both familiar and unfamiliar to him. A blur of color races by on the ground, and looking down, he sees a girl close to Ruby's age in bright, Huntress-styled clothing dive behind a tree. Her hands glow with purple fire, and no sooner has Tai deduced that it must be her Semblance than does the girl jump out from behind the tree, give a war cry in a language he's never heard before, and throws a massive fireball at the last standing scrawny robot. It hits him square in the face, and gives her apparent ally the opportunity to shoot him through the chest.
Before Tai can fully register that the victorious robot's arm and hand turned into a gun, the girl gives a different shout in English. Watching the scene unfold before him, Tai witnesses the girl runs toward the robot, who crouches down and holds out a hand for the brightly colored teen to throw her arms around his index finger. The innately paternal gesture makes Tai's concern melt away immediately - whether you're a giant or not, human or robot, to treat a child that tenderly is a sign of the individual's safety to be around.
Certain that the enemies are dead - or at least as dead as giant robots can be - Tai calls out to the two strangers. After some cautious introductions, Tai learns that the robot is called Ironhide while the girl is Miko. It takes some more wheedling on his part, but he eventually gets Ironhide to admit that the two have been separated from friends, and seeing as there's not much else for them to do, Tai invites them to stay at his place. Ironhide and Miko discuss this in the girl's strange language, but they noticeably perk up over something, and before he knows it, Ironhide turns into a pickup truck and questions if they have satellites on the planet.
Confused in a way he hasn't been since learning the Branwen twins could turn into birds back in his first year at Beacon, Tai confirms it. The journey back and explaining to three teenagers freaking out - both in fear and excitement - over the existence of apparent sentient robots is a whirlwind for Tai, but he powers through it enough to find out from a still-explodey Miko that Ironhide is using the house's satellite antenna to broadcast a message across the planet to contact the Autobots.
Somehow, the term "Autobots" is the last straw for the senior Xiao Long, and corralling his charges into Ruby's room, Tai has Ironhide stand outside the open window and explain himself to the humans, Miko on the Autobot's shoulder the entire time. In layman's terms, Ironhide informs them in short order about the 'Bots and 'Cons, Cybertron and the war, and the battle that transpired before they were transported to Remnant, the name having been given to the two "aliens" during their discussion. Miko worries if Remnant has energon, but no sooner has she finished the comment does Wheeljack break through the comm with the news that he has an alternative, and as Tai watches a white-red-green sports car drive up the path to the house, he's stunned to see Qrow of all people step out before this vehicle transforms, too.
"Man, I need some STRONG coffee to deal with this."
Tai and Ironhide, being some of the older and more experienced members of this growing alliance, understand each other from a warrior's perspective. But more than that, they recognize in each other a paternal figure, and oftentimes are seen training with the kids, both human and Cybertronian. Once he's made sure that Tai is a competent fighter and skilled in the use of a Semblance, Ironhide allows the man to teach Miko how to use hers so she can better defend herself. Tai can always feel Ironhide watching him, making extra certain his girl is safe, and Tai likewise knows that Ironhide is aware of his presence when he's interacting with Yang and pushing her to get back into the world and accept her prosthetic arm. Although it's hard hearing Ironhide's drill sergeant attitude at the beginning, Tai recognizes that what the older 'Bot is saying to his daughter is necessary, something he later thanks him for doing as he can't bring himself to say such things to his Sunny Little Dragon. In return, Ironhide expresses his own gratitude for Tai's willingness to go toe-to-toe with Miko and not hold back in their training; normally Ironhide would do what Tai is doing with the girl, but he's too big to be able to do more than encourage and push.
This helps them bond during the Autobots' time on Remnant, and they're arguably some of the closest among the human-Autobot partnerships in the alliance. They hang out together, watch over and guide the kids, and enter the fray together, each one managing to keep Miko in their sight. Although Qrow is his brother in all but blood (even when the details of Ruby's true parentage are brought to light), Tai feels a closer bond with Ironhide. Maybe it's the violent streak they share, or the fatherly nature they express to the kids in their care, but somehow, Tai feels like he's gained a more genuine brother in Ironhide. And while the older 'Bot won't admit it in public - or in some private places - Tai knows the sentiment is reciprocated.
After all, only veterans would understand a connection as deep as their bond.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Here's the second part, folks! I gotta admit, I almost handed Ironhide over to Yang, but then I thought, "Why not give him Tai? They're both fathers, it'll totally work out."
And they honestly do, too! At the beginning, their team name was hard for me to find; I had been contemplating using 'dragon' in the nickname, but then I decided on using 'combat' as a part of it. Surprisingly, it didn't take long for "Combat Veterans" to enter my mind, and it truly sums them up: veterans of combat who've seen it all, but don't let it break them.
Now if you're hoping to get outside of Vale soon, I'm sorry to disappoint you. I have a few more partnerships in mind for the remaining characters in Patch, as well as at least three more 'Bots who arrive to answer Ironhide's signal. That said, once I'm done here, I'm likely gonna head to Atlas for some match ups - or I'll take a break after getting Ruby done. I don't know.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, readers! See you around!
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majimemegoro · 2 years
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very rough WIP sneak preview continuation of Happy Miraculous Dream Job!, posted in honor of @skygayzer ‘s bday!
feat. a guy with literally negative morals. youve been warned
[Kadokura shows up at the restuarant Sato goes to on wednesdays or whatever and engages him] “What is this.” Sato’s voice was expressionless, but he was visibly more tense than usual. Kadokura was a tiny bit surprised, but perhaps he shouldn’t have been, given what he knew about Sato’s character. The man was a creature of routine.
“I bought you dinner,” Kadokura said. Which should have been obvious. He flashed a grin. “There must be something you like here?” Kadokura had ordered better, more expensive versions of Sato’s favorite dishes.
Ignoring the question, Sato bluntly said “Why?”
Letting the smile slip away, Kadokura crossed his arms over his chest. “I want to recruit you for a job,” he said. “I’m trying to headhunt promising candidates, and you fit the bill.”
Sato seemed to relax a little - being recruited for a job was a reasonable enough thing - but he didn’t let his guard down. “What kind of job?” he asked. “And what do you want from me?”
“Right now?” Kadokura said. “I want you to sit with me and eat whatever you want.”
Warily, his movements jerky, Sato moved around the chair and sat down across from Kadokura. Sato inclined his head a little. Gratitude, or mere politeness. It didn’t matter much. 
[...] Kadokura leaned forward over the table. “Have you ever killed an animal?”
“Yes,” Sato said.
Barely, Kadokura restrained himself from grinning in pleasure. Of course Sato had killed animals! He probably started when he was just a kid. Out behind his parents’ house, starting with frogs in the creek, until that wasn’t enough, and then one day the neighbour’s cat would disappear… Fond memories filled Kadokura’s head, but he pushed them down and steepled his fingers in a precise show of professionalism.
[kadokura lowjey reveals the job is ‘hitman’ and talks some really nihilistic philosophy about the valuelessness of life]
“Look,” Kadokura said, “I have a private shooting range that you can use for free, Sato-san. Here’s my card, the address is on there. You can show up any time, midnight, four a.m., I don’t care. I’m not always there but you’re welcome to use the facilities. I’ll have my staff know to let you in.”
Sato hesitated, but took the business card respectfully, with two hands.
Obviously he was tempted by the prospect of not having to pay for a shooting range, especially given that he was currently unemployed.
Kadokura was helpless to suppress a grin. “I have all kinds of guns there, too, for people to try.”
“Old guns?” Sato asked quickly.
The man was hard to read. Kadokura wasn’t sure if Sato was insulting him, or just being awkward. “No. New guns, mostly. Some that aren’t even on the market yet.” Kadokura flashed a charming smile.
In response Sato nodded, again unreadable, and tucked the business card into his pocket. [time passes]
“Sir, you told us to inform you if Sato Kiyoshi arrived to use the shooting range, and he has.”
Kadokura hesitated for a split second, and then made an executive decision. He turned back to the screen. “Gentlemen, my apologies, there’s apparently been an issue with the shipping to Thailand that requires my immediate attention. Could we continue this conversation at a later date?”
[kadokura goes to the range] “And don’t disturb me!” Sato looked around. His eyes landed on Kadokura - but really, Sato was looking at himself, reflected in the giant mirror that made up the east wall of the range. Sato gestured stiffly at the mirror, and asked the retainer something. It’s so that trainers can observe a shooter’s technique, Kadokura mouthed involuntarily, the explanation familiar on his tongue. He smiled as the retainer [...] He watched Sato peruse the rifles, passing over an M82 and eventually setting on an SSG 69. It was a sensible choice, Kadokura supposed, given the weapon Sato usually used, but someone would have to get the man familiar with the more innovative possibilities available to someone on his career path. Getting comfortable with the PIV would serve him well, too, Kadokura figured with a twinge of wryness, watching Sato fiddle with the scope on his gun, raise it to eye level, and then fiddle with it again.
It would be almost hilarious if it weren’t so exciting. This guy could hit a songbird in flight at 400 meters, but had never used a goddamn scope before!? This was probably what it felt like to fuck a virgin. A showstoppingly attractive virgin.
A platter with a glass of Absinthe King Gold appeared at Kadokura’s shoulder, and he took it and sipped, all without letting his eyes leave Sato, who was examining the magazine.
“Kadokura-san,” the attendant said, “Richardson-san is on the line again. I know you said you didn’t want to be disturbed, but-“
“Tell Andre I’m busy with something very important,” Kadokura said. “I’ll call him back… later.” The attendant melted away and Kadokura turned his attention back to Sato.  
With confidence this time, Sato raised the scope to his eye once more and took aim, steadying the butt against his shoulder.
Kadokura put down his drink and leaned forward in the chair.
Sato pulled the trigger. Bullseye.
[sato continues training for awhile, then puts away the gun]
But instead of looking around or heading for the exit, Sato picked up another gun. The M24 prototype.
Kadokura let out a hiss and sat bolt upright, hands clutching at the fabric over his knees.
It didn’t take long for Sato to familiarize himself with the M24’s parts and get back in a shooting stance.
[kadokura watches sato use the M24 and uhh really enjoys it] [time passes, kadokura finds out sato has a new job]
“Oh. Oh no, no, no, this just won’t do. Argh, I’m going to have to-“ On the spur of the moment Kadokura grabbed his keys and headed for the garage. He’d deal with this himself.
In 20 minutes he was at Sato’s new workplace. Kadokura parked the car and waited until two hours later Sato exited the store, looking deathly as ever. Kadokura fought down the urge to follow him. Instead, Kadokura ruffled up his hair, loosened his tie, and shed his watch and suit jacket. An instant drop of four social levels. As long as no one looked at his shoes. He jumped out of the car and walked quickly into the store, barely registering the bell that rang as the door opened. He went directly to the worker at the checkout.
“Pardon me, can I speak to the manager?” Kadokura asked, sounding upset. “I have a complaint about your store.”
The employee obviously didn’t want to deal with whatever this was about, and obliged Kadokura in fetching the manager, a fleshy middle-aged man with an impressive punch-perm and a rabidly professional look in his eye. Perfect. “Pardon me. Your new employee is Sato Kiyoshi, yes?” Kadokura asked immediately, no niceties.
The manager looked surprised. “Sir, I’m afraid I can’t discuss the personal details of my employees. If you-“
“He is Sato Kiyoshi,” Kadokura pressed. “I know he is. I recognize him from the newspaper.”
The manager paused. “The newspaper?”
“Yes. I was terribly upset when I saw he was working here. You see, my kids sometimes shop here on the way home from school and-“ Kadokura broke off, shuddering. “It’s a shame. That you would hire someone like that-“
“Sir, sir, pardon me, what do you mean?” the manager asked. There was terror shining in his eyes now, the kind of terror that only a reputation-conscious businessman could feel.
“But do you mean you don’t know?” Kadokura asked, feigning shock. “Sato Kiyoshi was convicted of raping and killing four children in Sendai! He got off on a technicality, but the judge-“
Eyes wild, the manager half-lunged for the phone behind the counter, before staying himself. “Ah, sir, may I ask your name?”
“Suzuki,” Kadokura said. “Suzuki Ren.”
“Suzuki-san, I can personally assure you I had no idea about Sato-san’s background, this man’s crimes are completely antithetical to the values of Fun Variety. I’ll fire him immediately, and in the meantime could I offer you some coupons?”
Kadokura took the coupons. He was trying not to laugh. “Oh, why, thank you! It’s good to know that my kids can be safe shopping here after all. I only hope that Sato didn’t already do something bad while he was working here…” Bowing hurriedly, the manager again grabbed the phone. This time he dialled.
Kadokura used one of the coupons to buy a Fun Pop at 20% off. Outside the store he unwrapped it and stuck it in his mouth. Beside the entrance a homeless man had sat down. Kadokura dropped the rest of the coupons on him.
Still sucking on the Fun Pop, Kadokura got back in the car and smoothed his hair back. Ah, that was better. The mission had been a success. He felt very satisfied indeed. He squirmed in his seat as he tapped on the steering wheel, trying to decide what to do. He’d earned a treat, hadn’t he? Yes, he had.
He peeled out of the parking space and drove to the apartment that overlooked over the public park where Sato often spent his afternoons when he didn’t have a shift at work. Which he wouldn’t, for the foreseeable future.
Gut twisting with anticipation, Kadokura unlocked the door and rushed through the apartment to the window. Below, Sato sat on his usual bench, watching the people passing by. He might have been thinking about killing them. The mere thought made Kadokura giddy.
How would Sato like to kill them? With a gun? Probably. He was a sniper through and through. Not that [...]
[sato gets up from the bench]
He was leaving already? But, no- he walked to the pay phone on one corner of the park and dug in his pocket for change. Kadokura was intrigued. Sato didn’t have any friends; who could he be calling?
Curiosity turned to apprehension. There was really no one for Sato to call. Maybe he knew he’d been fired? Maybe he knew he’d been fired, and he was trying to clear things up? Maybe Kadokura’s ruse had been reckless. But he’d had such a good read on that manager, and played him so easily. Surely the manager would be inured against any protestation Sato could muster.
Surely.
Kadokura’s fingers drummed on the windowsill. Down at the pay phone, Sato’s expression relaxed a little, and he inclined his head as though in gratitude, and he hung up. And he left.
Kadokura’s pulse skyrocketed. This was bad. Had Sato just been reinstated as an employee in good order at Fun Variety? What if the manager described Kadokura to Sato?
Mind racing, Kadokura headed for the door. Something had to be done. By the entranceway he passed his machete. That would do just fine. He picked it up, the familiar weight and grain of the handle grounding him. Everything would be fine. He could salvage this.
As he reached for the door handle, his pager beeped.
He cursed in frustration as he fished it from his pocket. The code was the highest priority “call me”; either there was a serious emergency, or a new development regarding one of Kadokura’s pet projects. Torn, he jigged on the spot between going and staying. Finally, cursing again, he dropped the machete and ran out to his car. He grabbed the car phone and dialled. “It’s me,” he said. “This better be fucking good!”
Straight to business. “Kadokura-san, Sato-san called and said he’s interested in talking about the job.”
Kadokura paused, then lowered the phone to his leg to collect himself. Then he pumped the air and let out a whoop. Then he calmly returned the receiver to his ear. “Fucking fantastic!” he cheered.   Okay, so maybe that wasn’t calm. Whatever. “Call him back! Or tell him to call me! No, call him and get him signed up for the eye exam! No, I’ll call him myself and invite him to the range tonight! No, no, we have to - look, tell me exactly what he said!” Breathless, Kadokura waited.
“Uh, he asked if you were there and I told him no. Then he said to tell you he was interested in talking about the job. Then I told him I’d tell him and that you’d be pleased. After that he hung up.”
Classic Sato! Laconic to a fault. But Kadokura could hardly complain. Everything was coming up fine and dandy.
“Great!” Kadokura said into the phone. He was smiling broadly. He hadn’t been so happy in ages. “Great! How’d you like a bonus and a vacation? Two weeks in Paris, maybe? Or Hong Kong? Bring your wife, you can go shopping!”
“Ah, thank you, Kadokura-san, that sounds lovely,” he said quickly. “May I tell the secretary you said so?”
“Hell yeah,” Kadokura said. “Oh, but before you pack up for the day, could you tell Xixi to bring some girls to the range? I want to celebrate tonight.”
“Yes, sir. Sounds good.”
Kadokura hung up. He looked at himself in the rear view mirror. He looked extremely happy. Suddenly remembering, he dove into he glove compartment and pulled out a little ziploc bag of cocaine. Cheerfully he rolled down the window and threw the bag away. He wouldn’t be needing that.
He drove away. 
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undercoverbastard · 1 year
Text
Pity Party
“I’m sure there’s something we can do to make it more enjoyable. Less horror movie-esque,” Derek grinned. Stiles raised an eyebrow in response and swept his eyes over the boy’s face. Was Derek hitting on him? Making an innuendo?
“Oh, yea?” Stiles prodded, leaning towards Derek a bit more, challenging him. Derek happily leaned in as well, accepting the challenge. “Yea,” Derek said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Please,” Stiles said, tilting his head and squinting his eyes slightly, “do tell.”
+.+.+
OR: That one short-fic I wrote while experiencing writer's block on my actual project and instead wrote a story for a random tumblr post I saw (Stiles doesn't want to go to a party and happily complains all the while, Derek's the host - they eventually end up making out)
Archive of Our Own Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43250739
“Scott, dude, I really don’t want to be here.”
Scott sighed, turning once more to his friend. He gave Stiles a disappointed look paired with the poutiest expression his lips could muster. He looked ridiculous, but he was also successful in getting Stiles to feel both amused and guilty.
“Come on! It’ll be fun. Allison is going and so is Lydia! Besides, you can’t spend another weekend moping around your house about not having a social life when you were literally invited to a party!” Scott said, shaking Stiles’ shoulder in an encouraging gesture.
Stiles simply glared at his friend and shook his hand off. “It’s not moping . And I wasn’t invited! You were and you dragged me along. I wasn’t even a pity invite - I was a pity allowance to get you to come along,” Stiles argued, crossing his arms defiantly.
Sure. He may be being a bit dramatic, but he also wasn’t wrong. Stiles wasn’t invited and he was only here because Scott refused to go unless Stiles came along. And Scott pouted, reminding Stiles this was one of the only times he could see Allison outside of school without having to actively sneak around in fear of her psychotic family sniffing them out. So here he was (unfortunately).
Scott just rolled his eyes and tugged Stiles closer to the house. It was already dark and the effects of the party were already visible. Stiles could see several discarded cups on the front lawn, teenagers milling about the front porch talking, laughing, and smoking. The house itself was emitting a dulled thud of music, a few lights flashing occasionally from the windows. He was sure if he looked in the backyard the damage would be even worse.
The party was even more lively once they crossed through the front door. Loud music, people dancing, hundreds of overlapping voices, and conversations. Stiles usually would be thriving in this kind of environment. He loved the energy and the chaos parties brought, but he had since gotten used to the sting of rejection and distaste the others often met him with when he’d gone to previous parties and meet-ups with the rest of the team.
Since Scott got bit, he had experienced many changes. And Stiles had stuck out for all of them. Learning control? No problem - Stiles will risk his safety and waste many hours of his free time helping Scott master it! Full moon issues? Not an issue in sight - Stiles nearly died but he helped his friend master his control even with the pull of the lunar cycle. Attention due to the boosted abilities? Awesome! Stiles was excited his once socially awkward, tentative friend was being embraced and cheered on by others - it was about time everyone realized how great Scott fucking McCall was, after all.
But the rejection from comparison? Yea, it was okay at first. Stiles and Scott had always been at the lower end of the social food chain but they had each other, at least. But now it was just Stiles. Scott was expected at and wanted at parties and bowling alley hangouts and weekly movie nights. Stiles… wasn’t.
While Scott was embraced due to his new physical prowess and his new social standing from dating one Allison Argent, Stiles was still just Stiles. He was still benched during most of lacrosse to the point he just altogether quit and instead signed up for track. He was still hyperactive and ADHD-ridden which led to one too many rants during class and awkward topic discussions. And, most of all, he was still the son of Beacon Hill’s own Sheriff.
All wrapped up, Stiles was as undesirable as they seem to come. And while Scott still hung out with him for their own movie nights and failed attempts at study sessions occasionally, Scott had become much more busy between dates with Allison, hanging out with the lacrosse jerks after practice, and recently his new pack. And no, Stiles wasn’t upset that the new pack Scott was a part of was adamant that Stiles stayed uninvolved. He wasn’t upset that Scott refused to even confirm who the pack was after his new apparent Alpha told him not to give away any names (though he did have a couple of suspicions, none concrete as of yet).
Scott was still his best friend. But Scott kind of sucked at fulfilling best-friend duties. While at first he demanded Stiles be allowed to join anything he was a part of, he soon became willing to let Stiles stick behind and even started not even telling Stiles about some of the events he was now increasingly a part of.
Stiles still remembers just two weeks ago when Scott no-called, no-showed their pre-planned video game marathon. It was around the anniversary of his mom’s death and mixing Stiles’ own twisted emotions with his father’s suddenly jam-packed work schedule, sudden radio silence, and overall emotional unavailability, Stiles was grateful for the reprieve of a night with his best friend doing nothing. That is, until Scott never showed up. Lo and behold, he had a pack meeting and when Stiles argued the pack meeting couldn’t have been more important, Scott had resolutely decided it was.
They hadn’t talked for a bit after that. Scott seemed to feel guilty about it and had started spending more and more time with Stiles the past couple of weeks. He didn’t miss a single lunch with him at school even if Allison sat with Lydia at another table. He came over several nights after school and even stayed over last Friday, seemingly having no dates to run off to. And now this.
Stiles appreciated it. Truly, he did. His best friend fucked up and was kind of an ass and now he was trying to make it up to Stiles. But this was bordering torturous.
Spending time with Scott was great! Spending time with people who would prefer to ignore his existence and some who even outwardly voiced their disdain for him (daily)? Not so great. He’d much rather be at home - alone even - than be here.
“Here dude,” Scott thrust a cup into Stiles’ hand. He was chattering about Allison and an upcoming date he was excited about. Stiles was staying quieter than usual, just humming along to show acknowledgment of his friend’s words.
“I told Allison about how you and I used to go there all the time with-”
Scott was cut off, a hand clapping down on his shoulder. Quicker than lightning, the other person had seemingly dragged Scott away and Stiles could see him in the opening of the kitchen. There was a group of people standing around the kitchen island, all talking and gesturing, pulling Scott into the throng of conversation with ease.
Stiles sighed to himself and instead maneuvered his way further into the house. He quickly found the back door and let himself out, ducking to the end of the long stretch of the porch that overlooked a backyard with a pool and lights and dozens of bodies milling about. He leaned on the porch railing and instead looked out across the lake and let his eyes dance across the stars, picking out random constellations and letting his mind run wildly about.
He was sure he could find someone to talk to or dance with, but a large number of those in attendance were the lacrosse team and their affiliates, the cheer team, and a couple of other sports teams. Stiles didn’t really listen to who was throwing the party but he remembered briefly catching Scott say something about it being in celebration of some sort of game they had won in nationals. The gathering of jocks was expected and, in Stiles’ experience, was not a good mix for him.
Stiles was already well acquainted with Jackon’s snarky attitude, Danny’s long-suffering eye rolls, and the quiet disdain the overall lacrosse team sent his way. By association, plenty of the other sports teams held similar regard for him.
He did see a couple of people from track who played on additional teams, but he didn’t know them well enough to just walk up and try to corner them in conversation. Track wasn’t in season right now and he’d had to manipulate Coach Finstock into letting him switch from lacrosse to track mid-year even though the track teams had already been set up. His times were a good bolster but his lack of coordination had been a hard obstacle to get Coach over (“I’m running, Coach! No sticks, no balls - not even other teammates! I just have to run, nothing to stumble over or issues with passing”).
“Not enjoying the party?”
Stiles shifted his head to look at the new voice. He was on the far end of the porch deck and it was a bit dark without the direct light overhead, so he couldn’t make out the person right away. As they stepped closer, the face became more familiar.
Derek Hale.
Stiles was fairly certain Derek was on the basketball team and was one of the new friends Scott had around at times. He’d passively seen Scott and Derek talking together in the halls or sitting together during lunch on occasion, but nothing much more. Aside from that, Stiles didn’t know much of anything about the guy.
“Not really,” Stiles offered, turning back to gaze out at the lake. If Derek was on the basketball team then chances were he was friends with Trent and Trent was also on the lacrosse team and had adamantly hated Stiles since day one. Hatred by association was plausible.
Derek moved forward and leaned his back against the railing next to Stiles, catching the other boy’s eye as he leaned back. “No? Why not?” he asked.
He seemed nice, Stiles thought, though he knew that may change if the boy next to him had yet to realize who exactly Stiles was.
Shaking his head, Stiles replied, “Didn’t really want to come but my friend dragged me along. And since he was my ride, I’m unfortunately stuck here until he leaves. Or once I give in to the idea of just walking home.” Which yea, no, not his top choice. They were currently out at the lake. The houses here were spread out far enough, most of them acting as holiday homes for the wealthier individuals around Beacon County. The next closest house was probably a ten-minute walk from here. The center of town was probably two hours on foot. Stiles didn’t want to think about how long of a walk his house was as it was on the other side of town past the center.
Derek smirked and cocked his head to the side a bit, seemingly assessing Stiles as he spoke.
“Wow, you really don’t want to be here,” he mused. Stiles laughed, because yea, no shit. 
“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ a bit obnoxiously, “would rather be home binging movies or something. This place looks like every cliche coming-of-age starting scene. If there was some crazy serial killer on the loose or some mythical creature creeping along the lake, it would even fit the opening of a horror movie. Who's even hosting this thing? Do they know they’re running a Friday the 13th knockoff here?”
Stiles was rambling again, but Derek didn’t seem to mind. He was laughing and smirking, shaking his head. He wasn’t laughing at Stiles but more at the absurdity of his words. And he had a nice smile, Stiles noted.
“Well,” Derek said, peering over at the lake contemplatively, “there may be a creature of the night or two running around here. Who knows?” His following smile seemed highly amused, maybe even a bit mocking. Stiles rolled his eyes, remembering his best friend was a damn werewolf, so yea - there was a creature of the night running about for sure. Whether Derek was in the know of that or not he was uncertain, so he wrote off the look as teasing.
“Definitely. I could see myself getting murdered here, may be sacrificed. The scene is all set and ready to go,” Stiles mockingly waved his hand around the property. His spite wasn’t for the party itself, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but be a bit disdainful of its occupants. For all he knew this party was thrown by one of the lacrosse guys - hell, maybe even Jackson! Stiles recalled Lydia’s family has a house on the lake, though he hadn’t ever been to it before. Maybe this was her family’s house?
“I’m sure there’s something we can do to make it more enjoyable. Less horror movie-esque,” Derek grinned. Stiles raised an eyebrow in response and swept his eyes over the boy’s face. Was Derek hitting on him? Making an innuendo?
“Oh, yea?” Stiles prodded, leaning towards Derek a bit more, challenging him. Derek happily leaned in as well, accepting the challenge. “Yea,” Derek said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Please,” Stiles said, tilting his head and squinting his eyes slightly, “do tell.”
Derek’s grin was even wider than the last. He opened his mouth to seemingly respond, to indulge Stiles in just what they could do to spice up this opening scene of Murder House when another person burst through the back door calling Stiles’ name.
Stiles groaned quietly, mentally cursing Scott’s timing. The guy left his best friend stranded, did he have to potentially cock-block him too?!
“Stiles! There you are. You disappeared, dude,” Scott grinned, joining Stiles and Derek in their darkened corner of the porch. Derek nodded a quiet greeting while Stiles openly aired out his annoyance at his friend in response.
“Oh, Derek! Hey man! Haven’t seen you yet,” Scott immediately turned his focus to the other, slapping him on the shoulder, “great party! No one’s tried to jump from the upstairs window yet so way better than last time.”
Stiles froze, eyes widening.
If Derek’s knowing smirk was any indicator, he knew exactly what Stiles was thinking. “ Your party?” Stiles asked, seeking clarification.
“Yea!” Scott chirped happily. “Remember? I told you it was for the basketball team’s win yesterday - made it to nationals! Derek always host’s since his captain. I mean, the lake house also is pretty helpful.”
Scott was happily retelling Stiles about the details of tonight’s party, none the wiser to Stiles’ inner turmoil and mortification. Instead, he just tightly smiled at his friend and willed his emotions to stay the fuck in check. Scott would outright ask what was wrong and he’d prefer to not further engage in that line of questioning, thank you very much.
“Did you catch up with Isaac yet?” Derek smoothly changed the topic, tipping his head down towards the pool below. “He was looking for you earlier but he’s been in the pool with Cora since you got here I think.”
Scott seemed to light up at this news. Isaac and Scott had become attached at the hip as of late (a strong contender for Stiles’ ongoing suspect list for pack members that Scott refused to indulge him knowledge on). His mild jealousy at the curly-haired, gangly-limbed boy all but replacing Stiles’ role in Scott’s life was still present but dwindling. Still, the small bit of distaste lingering in his mouth at the mention of Isaac was not unexpected (Stiles couldn’t deny Isaac was nice and his particular brand of snark was enjoyable, but he was still a bit of a friend-snatcher!).
Parting with minimal words to Stiles, Scott saw himself off to the backyard, hunting down Isaac and Cora who were presumably still in the pool somewhere among the small crowd of people.
“So you just let me babble on and shit-talk your own party for the hell of it, huh?” Stiles couldn’t help the abrupt comment. If Derek hadn’t maimed and killed him yet he doubted he would at this point, but still, self-preservation was a skill he should keep in mind.
Derek smirked, leaning back in towards Stiles and minimizing the distance between them once more. “Yea,” he smoothly replied, “I sure did. But as the host, it really would be inconsiderate of me not to try and entertain my guests.”
Stiles raised his eyebrows in response. He studied Derek again, looking for the joke or anger or something that could be hidden in the seemingly flirty banter. He found none.
“Right, so… you aren’t going to kill me then, right?” Stiles hedged, looking once more for clarification before jumping headlong into this proposed plan of ‘bettering’ this party experience.
“No killing. Creature of the night’s honor,” Derek grinned, his eyes flashing at Stiles. Stiles blinked and shook his head. He looked out at the lake to clear his head for a second.
Sigh. “Of course your fucking werewolf,” Stiles mumbled. Derek laughed and knocked his shoulder against Stiles’.
“Is that a problem?” he challenged. Stiles scoffed and flailed a hand out in the direction of Scott as if to say ‘yea, totally, that’s why I’m best friends with one’ . Derek hummed, seeming to understand the words unspoken. A pleased smile once more took over his features as he studied Stiles.
With a cock of his head, Derek leaned in to whisper directly in Stiles’ ear, “So about making this whole party experience more enjoyable…”
Stiles turned to look the other boy in the eye. A slow grin took over his own features as he locked eyes with Derek. By this point they were barely an inch or two apart, noses nearly bumping into one another and each of them almost going cross-eyed to look at the other.
“What ideas you got?” Stiles whispered. The answering smirk and flash of mischief returning to Derek’s eyes made his stomach swoop. By the flare of his nostrils and the cocky look he gave, Stiles was sure Derek could sense where his mind had gone. He also seemed entirely on board with said train of thought.
“Oh, I’ve got a few,” Derek murmured as he leaned in the last bit. His lips brushed against Stiles’ and within an instant, they were pressed against one another. Derek’s hands found themselves stationed behind Stiles’ neck and the other cupping his jaw, adjusting Stiles himself to deepen the kiss and guide their movements. Stiles had a hand curled on one of Derek’s hips, tugging him closer, while the other found purchase on his shoulder, fingers digging in to anchor himself.
And boy, Stiles had to agree - this definitely improved his overall party experience. He quickly got caught up in the way Derek traced his tongue along Stiles’ bottom lip before biting and tugging on it. The way his fingers pulled at the hairs on the back of his neck, pulling muffled groans from Stiles. Stiles also got caught up in the sounds Derek made when his hand slid from Derek’s hip and up under his shirt, dull fingernails dragging against skin.
How long they stayed there, mouths all but glued together, hands searching, tugging, and scratching at the other, neither were sure. All Stiles really knew was that one minute he was pressed against Derek Hale’s porch railing, making out with the guy in question, and next Derek was leading him around the side of the porch to the front, and into the backseat of a Camaro. 
“Is this still improving the party experience if we leave the actual party?” Stiles pondered, pressing Derek into the backseat of his car and attaching his lips to the boy’s neck. Derek moaned, hands coming up to clutch at Stiles’ hips and dragging them closer to one another.
“Fuck the party,” he mumbled, shifting to push Stiles down against the seats and straddle Stiles’ hips.
“What about me?” Stiles grinned mischievously, already pulling Derek back down to press their lips together again. Derek mumbled a curse or two against his lips, hands coming up to grip Stiles’ wrists and pin them haphazardly above his head and against the inside of the door.
“I’m getting to that part,” Derek said, grinning widely down at the boy beneath him before diving in to suck marks along the side of his neck and along his collarbones. Derek gave up the grip on Stiles’ wrists to instead lean down and push his shirt up, spreading his hands against the newly exposed skin.
Just as Derek began to press and roll his hips against Stiles, he abruptly stopped his actions as Stiles let out a yelp and a curse.
“Okay, not that this isn’t a great way to improve my partying experience,” Stiles began, reaching a hand up to rub at the top of his head, “but maybe we could move this somewhere where we’re not packed like sardines.”
Derek laughed while sitting up, helping stiles to sit up as well. He stayed straddling Stiles’ lap, a hand coming up so he could trace the boy’s lips with his thumb. “Yea, I think that’s a fair request,” he mused, earning a grin from the boy below him.
“It’s 11,” Stiles said, glancing at the clock on the front dash, “I can volunteer my house at 12. Maybe we can kill an hour at the diner - get some shakes. Your treat, of course, for concussing me on your door and all.”
Derek smirked, leaning down to ghost his lips over Stiles’. “Is this your backward way of asking me on a date, Stiles?” he murmured, teasing the other’s lip with his teeth. Derek gasped as Stiles slid a hand up and groped at Derek’s ass, pulling the other boy forward the slightest bit with a mischievous grin on his face.
“Depends,” Stiles replied, “is this your backward way of accepting?”
“Definitely,” Derek said, pressing in to properly kiss Stiles again as he did so.
+.+.+
They made it to the diner and easily killed an hour with shakes and fries. They did not make it to Stiles’ house after getting a knock on the window from Parrish and a personal escort back to the Stilinski house - where Parrish pointedly waited for Derek to leave once dropping off Stiles.
They did however both make it to dinner with his father the next night. And to the Hale house for dinner the night after. The already-formed hickies on Stiles’ neck didn’t help their case much in either instance, but Stiles finally got to meet Scott's pack so he counted it as a win.
(And if Derek happily added more hickies after school that following Monday, well, Stiles surely didn't complain.)
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jungkxook · 3 years
Text
—pour up. (m)
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader x taehyung
⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / fuckboy!taehyung + smut  
⟶ words: 14,048 (idk how it’s literally just smut)
⟶ rating: 18+
⟶ summary: sleeping with both notorious frat boys kim taehyung and jeon jungkook doesn’t sound so bad ━ especially when you’re drunk and faded.
⟶ warnings: mentions of drug/alcohol use, essentially pwp lol, threesome, double penetration, voyeurism, messy rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dry humping, manhandling, doggy style, riding (sort of?), fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), face riding, face fucking, deepthroating, breast play, slight begging (mostly oc making jungkook beg hehe), brief name calling, dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie
⟶ note: this is a repost of a fic from my old blog! also shout out to miss jlin @bratkook​ for being the sweetest and for liking this trashy fic of mine, and a happy early birthday present to @onherwings​ miss juno, the resident taekook lover!! 💛
also the accompanying song to this fic is pour up by dean!
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There were times when you were sober where you were persistent about never being in a five foot radius of a frat boy, much less strip yourself of your dignity long enough to sleep with one.
Your appalling disgust and immense irritation of the male species that were frat boys kept you well in tune to your rule ━ until you’re far past the point of drunk and faded. Only then, when your bloodstream is laced with alcohol and your mind is nothing but a hazy cloud of smoke, you shrink into a shameless hypocrite and favour the appeal of a simple hook up. But you have needs too; it isn’t entirely your fault. Kim Taehyung offers you exactly that, with the promise to then act as if nothing happens the very next day so that the two of you can revert to despising one another out in public.
You act as if no one knows about your flings with ultimate frat boy Taehyung almost every weekend, as if they’re just as oblivious as you, but damn near the whole school knows and most certainly the rest of the boys in Beta Tau Sigma, or as Taehyung puts it, his brothers. It’s a useless cycle of bicker, avoid, drink, sex, and repeat, ever since you joined the school as a freshman and the sophomore boy took an interest in you. He’s charming in all the right ways and good looking but his smooth appeal was almost too good to be true and, past his “kind” smiles, you could make him out to be arrogant, vain, and cocky. Maybe you would have given him an actual chance had it not been for his snarkiness but all your brain could truly handle was his dick for a few hours a week.
Unsurprisingly, you always end up crashing at Beta Tau Sigma after one of their raging parties that results in your hook ups with Taehyung; surprisingly, Taehyung is miraculously into pillow talk post-sex and so he doesn’t entirely mind if you stay the night. But, by morning, when the alcohol has all but turned into a terrible hangover, he can hardly care less if you stay or not.
Usually, you wake up on your own, courtesy of past sober you setting an alarm on your phone to make sure you wake up earlier than all the other walkers of shame and anyone else in Beta Tau Sigma. Ideally, it was to help guarantee that no one would ever see you or judge you for stooping low enough to sleep with a fuckboy but you don’t know how well that’s working out for you anymore, if you’re being honest.
That’s why, early one fateful Sunday morning after a night of fun with Taehyung, you awaken with a start to the shrill Marimba tone that rips through the silence of the room and causes you to literally jump out of bed and crash onto the floor. You groan at the sharp pain that shoots up your spine and accompanies your groggy mind as your eyes flicker open only to be greeted with a blinding light that is the sun as it filters through the shut curtains. Littered on the ground are clothes, your clothes, beer bottles, red solo cups, discarded bed sheets, a singular condom wrapper (you thank your past selves for at least being sober enough to remember to use one), and your cell phone.
“Turn that shit off, for fuck sakes,” he grovels.
His hangover, and the early morning, makes his already deep voice even rougher, huskier, and you blame your disoriented mind for thinking he sounds even remotely sexy. He doesn’t bother to lift his head from his pillow or to find where you are in the room, the messy longer-than-usual curls of his hair flopping into his lashes as he flips onto his back. Other bodily remnants remain from the night before, from the mellowing ache between your legs left in the wake of his dick sufficiently railing you to the bite marks on his neck that you had so graciously bestowed him.
Now, you roll your eyes at him instead but dive for your phone nearby and tap the snooze button before it wakes the entire house and rouses the army of fuckboys from the dead.
“Good morning to you too,” You remark. “Is that better, princess?”
“Much.”
You push yourself to your feet and stretch, the stiff joints in your body popping and cracking, before searching for your clothes. You’re certain Taehyung has fallen back asleep as you dig around through the clutter to find your belongings but what else is new? It’s a routine the two of you have come to know well, and one that neither of you mind. You spot some sort of lacy material hidden underneath a few of Taehyung’s dirty laundry laying on the floor and reach for it thinking it’s yours. You’re only mildly disturbed to find that it isn’t yours at all ━ though you’re more concerned about the hygienic purposes of touching some other girl’s thong than you are about the blatant fact Taehyung sleeps with more girls than just you (a fact you swear you could care less for).
“Jesus Christ, your room is a disaster,” You scoff now.
“You could clean it,” Taehyung suggests sluggishly. Now, he’s awake, pretty and hooded eyes fluttering open to find you nearby. He props his hand behind his head to lift his gaze a little higher.
You snort, tossing the underwear away. “You never cease to━”
“Amaze you?”
“Repel me more than when I see the collection of thongs you have hidden in your room,” You correct. Fortunately, you spot your own underwear nearby and scoop it up, quickly slipping into them.
“Aw, baby, is that a bit of jealousy I hear?” Taehyung asks. He runs a hand through his dishevelled dark locks and shoots you a drowsy smirk. “You know you’re my one and only. I can always count on you when I want good head.”
“Please, flatter me some more, Tae,” You quip dryly.
As you hastily slide into your stiff shirt and jeans next and turn to face him, combing your fingers through your hair, Taehyung seems to take your words to heart and tries again. “You look like shit.”
You feign a voluntarily loud and overly dramatic moan. “Ugh, you really do know how to treat a girl━” Your cut off by a shameless snort from Taehyung before you continue on, “You know, you don’t exactly look the hottest right now either.”
“I beg to differ,” he replies nonchalantly. Technically, he isn’t lying, but you refuse to feed his ego any more.
“As if.”
“Funny,” he hums. “Could’ve sworn last night you were calling me hot when you were begging for my dick.”
You don’t bother to reply. Instead, you shake your head as you rub your tired face, uttering, “I need a coffee.”
“You could stay,” he offers. “I can make you one.”
“You don’t even know how to boil water,” You retort. “But thanks for the gesture. Try not to throw up on yourself today, okay?”
Taehyung mumbles something in response but then he’s already flipping over onto his side to fall back asleep again. You grab your bag from the floor and slip into your shoes before tiptoeing out of the room.
The Beta house is just as much a disaster as Taehyung’s room is and you find yourself stepping over more bottles, cups, empty pizza boxes, and hungover passed out people with phallic images doodled on their faces. The sun filters into the ever grand mansion and only illuminates the chaos the frat boys put it through. Everyone is thankfully still asleep as you head downstairs but, as you sneak past the kitchen, you notice two figures rummaging about, boisterous unabashed laughter filling the house that somehow hasn’t woken the others yet.
Jeon Jungkook stands before you with Park Jimin, both fellow Beta brothers, though Jungkook is in the same year as you. They, like most other Beta boys (and especially Taehyung), are well known on campus but Jungkook is perhaps even worse than Taehyung. Now, he’s adorned in only low hanging gray sweatpants that show off the ripples of his toned chest and the happy trail that threatens for your eyes to follow it. He holds a bowl of cereal close to him with the same arm decorated on every inch with tattoos, a snapback pushing his messy hair up and away from his forehead. The best part (and you mean that not at all) ━ or the worst ━ is the fact that he stands on a hoverboard, as if walking is too much for him to handle at nine in the morning. Jimin isn’t far off wearing the same attire, only his look is paired with the fuckboy-essential-starter-pack of socks and Adidas slides, and he’s at least actually using his legs to walk.
“Morning,” Jungkook smirks. “Time for the walk of shame?”
You have to retain a sigh. “I’m surprised you’re up, Jeon. I was sure you were gone past the point of saving last night.”
“A couple of shots do nothing for me,” Jungkook replies, shovelling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “I was pretty much sober.”
At this, you sit back on your heels and look him once over skeptically. “You kept trying to hook up with me, called your dick Jungcock, threw up in one of the vases, and then passed out in the bathtub. I wouldn’t have exactly called you sober.”
The smirk remains on Jungkook’s face. If anything, he seems more so amused and it pisses you off. Jimin bursts into a fit of laughter and shakes his head.
“Always a pleasure seeing you, Y/N,” he greets. “Hey, are you coming to the party going down at Lambdas house after exams? It’s pretty exclusive but you and your friends are all invited by courtesy of us.”
“Ugh, I can’t even think about going to another party right now. How do you Beta whores do it?” You grovel. “Besides, why would we come if we know you’re going to be there?”
“‘Cause Tae’s going and you’re probably gonna wanna suck his dick,” Jungkook suggests snidely.
“I was gonna say the free booze,” Jimin offers instead. “Man, you know the Lambdas. They’re all rich pretentious sons of country club owners. They hardly throw parties but, when they do, you know it’s going to be wild. I wouldn’t miss it if I were you.”
“Well,” You say, “thanks for the invitation but we’ll see. Maybe if we have a pre-game where I can get drunk enough to handle your faces and the Lambda boys together.”
“I’ve always said you’re more fun when you’re drunk,” Jungkook hums pensively. Your eyes narrow into a glare and you’re fortunate Jimin is there to block your path from tackling Jungkook.
“Okay, whatever,” You grumble. “I’m out of here. I think if I stay here any longer, I’ll lose all my brain cells.”
Jimin chuckles but hardly seems bothered by your comment. He waves you off as he slips out of the kitchen to retreat into another room, leaving you alone with Jungkook.
“Can I get you anything before you go?” he asks. There’s a cheeky tone laced in his words that makes you blatantly aware he’s trying to suggest something more, like his dick.
“Absolutely not,” You wave him off. “See you around, Jungidiot.”
He grins and shoves another spoonful into his mouth. “Hey, maybe next Saturday you can think about blowing me instead of Tae, yeah?”
He’s met with you jamming your middle finger in his face and it only seems to entertain him further. As you march out of their home, slamming the door behind you, you have one discernable thought amongst your hangover and that is that you’ll definitely need to have that pre-game before you have the audacity to even see Jungkook, or any of the Beta boys for that matter, at the Lambdas.
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That Saturday, you find yourself at the Lambdas house party.
So maybe you had sort of been lying when you said you weren’t so sure of going to it, but the thought was tempting enough and you aren’t one to pass up on a good party, especially when it’s after weeks of headaches and stressing over studying and exams.
Mid-terms come and go and when you finally finish writing your last paper, all you want to do is let loose and party and get dicked down by Taehyung. The Lambdas, despite their pretentious behaviour, looks to be very promising ━ but only after you down a few shots beforehand and have a beer while you’re getting ready. You’re not exactly as drunk or as tipsy as you would have prefered but it still gives you a nice enough buzz that makes you warm and lets the adrenaline pump in your veins and excites you even more for the party. The house you rent is off campus but it’s close to Beta’s and Taehyung offers to give you guys a lift to the Lambdas who are a fifteen minute walk away (but you know Taehyung will do anything to not walk anywhere his penny board can’t take him ━ and it’s not even Taehyung who is driving but his friend, Jin).
You can hear the party at Lambdas before you’re even there. The thump of bass coming from the house isn’t hard to miss, especially not with the way it seems to rattle the ground the closer you get. The house is crammed full to capacity and people have already begun to spill onto the lawn by the time you have arrived. A potent waft of alcohol and weed fill your senses and it is all you could really make out in the rambunctious party. You can hardly hear yourself think, let alone what others are saying to you. Yet, you still found a way to have fun almost instantly, drifting away from the guys to party with your friends.
Most of the night is a blur and a haze of confusion but you can remember drinking and drinking some more until you’re sufficiently smashed. You can’t quite recall where you had lost your friends, though you suspect it was after the intense game of beer pong you were suckered into in which you were certain there were no winners or losers as it was just an excuse to drink even more. It’s nearing 1 a.m. when you finally bump into a familiar face, pulling you back from the unruly party and the adrenaline rush coursing through your veins.
You’ve just slipped outside for some fresh air, perched on the front porch, when you notice Jimin is passed out on the lawn below. The other stragglers gathered outside barely take note of him but maybe that’s because he had chosen to faceplant in the shadows under the porch, tucked safely away from the rest of the party. Just before you can even think to walk over to him and make sure he’s still alive, the front door of the house swings wide open and a frenzied Taehyung bursts outside, shortly followed by an equally dumbfounded Jungkook.
“Where the fuck is he?” Taehyung hisses.
“I don’t know,” Jungkook sighs, disgruntled, “but leave it to him to run off and disappear.”
“Looking for someone?”
The two boys startle at your voice. They whirl around to find you taking a sip of the drink in your hand, as if only just noticing your presence. You hadn’t seen them since you parted ways a handful of hours ago in the party, though you’re fairly certain they’re just as smashed as you.
“Ah, babe!” Taehyung beams wolfishly. “What a pleasure seeing you out here. Uh, you wouldn’t happen to have seen where Jimin went, would you?”
You nod in the direction of the sleeping boy down below. “He’s there. He’s passed out cold, though. What the hell did you do to him?”
“Nothing,” Jungkook says. He grimaces as he hastily follows Taehyung down onto the lawn to stand near Jimin, and you in tow. “Jimin just likes to get out of hand. What should we do, Tae? We can’t just leave him here and Luna’s going to be pissed if she sees him like this.”
Taehyung stares down at Jimin miserably, thinking momentarily. “Well, Luna’s looking for him so we might as well drop him off at her dorm. He can deal with her when he’s sober.”
There’s a brief moment where you spot Jungkook seriously considering this though, as if leaving Jimin on the lawn of a frat house is a safer option than returning him to his girlfriend. Ultimately, he caves and you watch as Taehyung nudges Jimin awake (and by nudge, you mean he slaps the boy across the face) before pulling a very disoriented Jimin to his feet and slinging one of his arms over Taehyung’s neck.
“Fuck, he’s heavy,” Taehyung huffs. “Give me a hand, Jungkook.”
Jungkook nods, stepping forward to take Jimin’s other arm and hook it around his own neck. The two boys seem to be struggling carrying most of Jimin’s body weight, though they’re carrying mostly dead weight as Jimin continues to drift in and out of consciousness.
Before they can leave you offer to help though you don’t know what you can really do so you suspect your inebriated mind just wanted to go with them for the hell of it. Luna’s place isn’t far. It’s a ten minute walk from Lambda’s, but in that ten minutes, none of you talk about anything of real importance except for chuckle and laugh about things that happened at the party.
Eventually you make it to Luna’s, who answers the door angrily after you knock on it as if you’ve disrupted her slumber and frowns when she sees Jimin’s current state. At least she has the decency to thank the three of you. When she shuts the door behind her, the three of you turn to look at one another, almost clueless.
“So, what now?” Taehyung asks. “Head back to the party?”
The thought of making the ten minute walk back to the party in your drunken mind seems like an eternity. That, mixed with the way your feet scream in agony from the heels you’re wearing, you begin to pout and shake your head.
“I can’t walk anymore,” You whine, words drunkenly slurring together. “I’d be fine just sitting here.”
Jungkook’s nose scrunches as he looks at you once over. “How drunk are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, how about we just go back to our place?” Taehyung asks. His arm slides around your waist then, tugging you close to his side. If one thing is for certain, the boy tends to get more handsy the more drunk he is, and you never seem to mind. “I’ve got a fresh bowl we can hit and we can drink there and just chill?”
You and Jungkook consider Taehyung’s offer fleetingly and, to you, it seems much more appealing.
“Sign me up,” You say. “The Lambdas were a bit too over the top for my liking. There’s only so much I can handle.”
Jungkook shrugs and nods in agreement. “Then I guess I’m going with you guys.”
The five minute walk to Beta is short and soon you’re inside the eerily empty house and climbing the steps to Taehyung’s room but not before the three of you raid their cabinets for any type of liquor. Eventually, you’re all lounging in Taehyung’s room, some type of music playing in the background as the three of you pass around a bottle of whisky and the bong Taehyung had promised he had, giggling at each other.
By 2 a.m., you are smashed and faded but blissfully so.
Taehyung and Jungkook are not too far off. It’s Taehyung who comes up with the idea to play strip poker, though with a twist. His version of the game includes: taking a shot anytime one of you loses a round along with either stripping an article of clothing or being allowed to pass it and get dared to do something else, though each person only has three passes.
Jungkook loses the first round, shedding only his jacket. Taehyung and you lose the second round; you decide to strip out of your own cardigan while Taehyung flicks off his hat. Jungkook and Taehyung lose the third round and both kick off their shoes. The game progresses slowly, with the three of you coming up with “clever” loopholes out of the rules, like stripping one sock one round and then another sock the next and all of you are too drunk to really protest. Eventually, the game winds up with Taehyung and Jungkook both in their pants and you still wearing both your shirt and jeans. Both the boys have used one of their passes and are still losing which, you will admit, boosts your confidence ever so slightly especially when you have such a nice view in front of you.
Both boys are toned, with certified gym rat Jungkook’s abs a bit more chiseled, and you know that sober you would cringe at how hard you seem to be drooling over them. Jungkook must notice because he shoots you a wink that has you squirming in your seat.
“Like what you see?” he asks.
“N-No,” You say shortly. “Shut up and go. It’s your turn.”
You end up losing that round, unfortunately, but you have no qualms with stripping out of your jeans and kicking them to the side. The next round, you lose again, except you decide to use one of your passes which has both boys groaning in defeat.
“Remember,” You coo, “play nice boys.”
The two exchange a look and you wait patiently, taking your shot of whisky in the meantime as Taehyung chides you on encouragingly with a cheeky, “Pour up, baby girl.”
You down the shot in one gulp, wincing as it burns down your throat, then chase it quickly with the drink you had stolen from their kitchen. A drowsy smirk tugs at Taehyung’s lips as he takes another rip from the bong, breathing out a cloud of smoke as he hums insouciantly, “I’ve got your dare.”
There’s a split moment where he makes eye contact with you and pushes his hair out of his eyes.
“Come here and kiss me.”
Had you been sober, you might have rolled your eyes at his simple yet assertive dare but, instead, you can’t help but snicker as you lean across to him from your seat on the floor and pull him down for a not so graceful kiss. His whisky coated tongue instantly collides with yours in an open mouthed frenzy that’s full of teeth clashing and wet sounds but it’s hot, too hot, even as Taehyung pulls you closer to him with his hand grasping at your chin. You instinctively react, teeth nipping at his lower lip as you suck hard, momentarily forgetting about Jungkook sitting in the room.
A moan emits from you as your fingers thread through his hair. Jungkook is left to watch but his eyes stay locked on your figure and the way you cave so easily to Taehyung, the way your mouth moves against his. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your position on your hands and knees, or the way you arch your back in an attempt to get closer to Taehyung, and he certainly can’t seem to look away from the tempting curve of your ass jutting in his direction. All Jungkook suddenly wants is for you to be kissing him the same way you’re kissing Taehyung.
You’re only interrupted when he finds the nerve to clear his throat after a few moments. “Nah, it’s alright, I’ll just sit here. Do you guys want me to leave?”
He’s being sarcastic, of course, and when you and Taehyung part to look at the boy, he’s scowling. The two of you chuckle lightly but don’t respond, though you remember the game you’re still playing. Taehyung kisses you one last time before you settle back onto the floor, a sheepish giggle bubbling in your chest. Taehyung loses the next round and he decides to strip down into his underwear though he hasn’t lost yet (the goal is nudity and neither of your drunk selves have enough dignity left to give up before then).
The round after that, you lose again. You decide, once more, to use another one of your passes and the two boys pause, thinking of a dare for you as you take a shot (which, you have realized, only get harder to take as time passes).
“I have one,” Taehyung says at long last.
“Bro,” Jungkook groans, “if you just wanna fuck, let me know. I’ll leave. I don’t think I can sit here and watch you dare her to suck your face again.”
Taehyung laughs and shakes his head. “Easy there. I was just gonna suggest that you━” he points at you before nodding toward Jungkook, “give him a lap dance.”
“A what?” Jungkook’s jaw drops open, his eyes widening. “M-Me?”
You glance up at Taehyung, quirking an eyebrow. “Him?”
Taehyung erupts into another fit of laughter but he’s the only one who finds the situation hilarious because you and Jungkook continue to sit there, dumbfounded. When Taehyung calms himself down, he wipes his eyes and shakes his head.
“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t been noticing?” he asks.
“Noticing what?”
“The way Jungkook keeps eye-fucking you,” Taehyung says simply.
Jungkook gaps. “The fuck? I haven’t.”
“Jungkook, you’re not exactly sly,” Taehyung says. “He’s been doing it the whole night, babe. It’s not the first time he’s done it, too. I just figured we could do him a little favour.”
Your turn to look up at Jungkook and purse your lips. He’s seated in Taehyung’s desk chair and has a frown painted on his face. It’s not like it comes as a surprise to you because he’s constantly trying to flirt with you even when you’re sober but his sudden flustered appearance puzzles you slightly. You’ll admit the idea is ludicrous, but Jungkook is undeniably hot, and grinding on his dick sounds more than wonderful to you in your current state. Either way, you stand to your feet.
“I’ll do it,” You say. “Why not?”
“Wh-What?” Jungkook yelps. “You will?”
“Yeah,” You flash him a pearly smirk. “What? Is confident Jungkookie finally shy?”
At the mention of the taunting nickname, he straightens up in his seat and scowls. “No. I’m just surprised you gave in so easily. You must really like me, huh?”
“Keep dreaming, Jeon,” You retort.
The music is still playing in the background as you slink towards Jungkook’s seated figure. Meanwhile, Taehyung is watching with an amused look on his face and sits back, clearly enjoying the view as he tells you that you have three minutes. As you approach Jungkook, he leans back in his seat and watches you with dark eyes. Jungkook’s eyes sweep over your figure, from the way you muse your hands through your messy hair, your tight tank top with one strap falling down your shoulder, your lacy and scantily clad underwear, and your smooth legs. He gulps at the sight and shifts in his seat.
As soon as you’re standing in front of him, you whirl around so that your back is to him and jutt your butt out just enough to catch his attention as you sway your hips to the music. Your hands ghost up your sides just faintly enough so that chills run down your spine and you lock eyes with Taehyung for a split second to see him grinning. You sit back on Jungkook’s lap and his breath hitches in his throat suddenly. He hates to admit how easily you’re driving him crazy and as soon as you are but he takes the time to enjoy the dance anyway, eyes staying trained on your ass as you grind against him in agonizingly slow circles and right against his dick nestled against his thigh. He can’t help it when a moan emits from him.
“Fucking hell,” he grunts, raking his hands through his hair. You snicker at his reaction, craning your neck to look behind at him.
“Enjoying yourself, Kookie?”
“N-No,” he rasps. This is a lie, of course. “Turn around.”
His command only humours you but you don’t disobey. You get up for a second to spin around and face him before climbing back onto his lap, swinging one leg over his. Before you drop your hips completely on him, you’re rocking them back and forth against the thin air, your hands snaking around his neck. His hands suddenly find purchase on your waist and he yanks you down onto him with a sudden neediness that surprises you, though you don’t complain. You continue to grind against his lap and you can’t help your greedy self when your hands reach out to run up and down his toned chest. He shivers at your slightest touch, his jaw clenched, but he keeps his gaze focused on your eyes, as if challenging you for more. Behind you, Taehyung is taking another hit from the bong and laughs lightly at Jungkook’s reactions.
“Let him touch you,” Taehyung says.
You expect Jungkook to listen to Taehyung and reach out to grab onto you but he hesitates, his hands remaining at your hips. So, instead, you take his hands in yours and begin pulling them up, sliding them along your midriff and up to your chest. You don’t even flinch as you let him cup your boobs over your clothes and you watch him slyly as he gulps.
“Is this the first time you’ve actually touched a girl, Jungkook?” You quip. “You’re gawking at my boobs like it is. Not gonna wet yourself, hm?”
“Fuck off,” he growls, though there’s no malice in his voice.
Instead, he focuses his attention on your breasts and the weight of them in his palm. They’re soft and supple and he squeezes them firmly, jiggles the flesh as he fondles at you blatantly. He hates to admit it but he feels as if he’s going to combust at any second, repressing the sudden urge to tear off your shirt and burrow his head in your chest, your boobs in his mouth. He doesn’t know whether the soft moan that slips from your parted pink lips is intentional to mess with him or because you had been getting carried away yourself. Either way, Jungkook’s certain it’s the hottest thing he’s heard in a while, the hottest thing he’s seen in a while, and he hates how his sudden erection forms, how embarrassing it must be. When you feel his hardened length start to poke at your thigh, you look down at him past your lashes and smirk.
“Are you hard already, Kookie?” You giggle.
Taehyung roars with laughter abruptly and the outburst only makes Jungkook redden.
“I━I━” he stammers helplessly.
You shake your head at him and then purposely press your hips a little more firmly against his, gripping at his shoulders now. You’re challenging him now too, and he doesn’t know what you have in mind but you’re wickedly set on making him cum in his pants before Taehyung stops you.
“Time’s up,” he says.
Jungkook almost groans out loud in frustration when you pull away and step off of his lap. He’s embarrassingly hard now but his drunk self doesn’t try very hard to hide it. Taehyung’s stare is settled on Jungkook as you walk back to your seat but, before you can even sit down, Taehyung is beckoning you over.
“Come here, babe,” he hums. You look at him curiously but move in his direction. “What do you say we help Jungkook with his problem, huh?”
“Help? How?” You question.
“Come sit,” Taehyung gestures to his thigh.
Jungkook watches with silent seething jealousy as you take a seat on Taehyung’s thigh and then he’s kissing you, pressing his lips against your neck. You react almost instantly, your head craning to allow him more access and your eyes clamp shut, your mouth hanging open in delight.
“Tae━” You mewl, tugging at his hair, as if to prompt him wordlessly about Jungkook’s presence. But when does it become too much? Every action seems to keep building and building, that you know where the night surely must be heading; that you crave it.
Taehyung’s tongue swirls at your neck, his lips sucking on the sensitive skin, before he peeks one eye open to look at Jungkook.
“Look at him,” Taehyung hums against you. “Look at how jealous he is right now. Look at how bad he wants to be me right now.”
You take a moment to register his words, your head spinning. You struggle to find Jungkook as Taehyung continues to ravish your neck. Jungkook’s stare is hard, his jaw clenched; his hands are balled into tight fists that let you see the bulging veins in his arms. Is he jealous? Angry?
Taehyung suddenly bites down onto your neck and you gasp in surprise, leaning against his chest. His nimble fingers find the hem of your shirt which he lifts and discards on the floor with ease. Next to come off is your bra. You don’t realize your torso is bare until a slight breeze hits your breasts and perks your nipples and Taehyung reaches up to cup the soft tissue in his large hands and Jungkook can’t look away because, fuck, touching you is all he really wants to do.
“Do you see him staring now?” Taehyung asks. “Do you see how desperate he is for you? Look at how bad he wants to touch you right now, baby girl. Will you let him?”
You’re still staring at Jungkook as Taehyung speaks and note how fast Jungkook’s demeanour has changed. He looks helpless, his erection more prominent in his straining jeans which he shamelessly palms at to feel some sort of relief.
“Better yet,” Taehyung hums, averting your attention back to him. He’s sliding one of his hands down your front and in between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. His digits come in contact with your clothed pussy and the sudden touch, light and feathery, makes you jump and gasp. You hadn’t been aware of how wet you had been until he touched you just then and the coil in your stomach only tightens with each passing second. “Will you let him play with you?”
It takes you a second to respond, though that isn’t because you’re struggling to decide. The thought entices you far more than you ever believed it could. Taehyung is suddenly rubbing his fingers against your clothed clit in so very slow circles that it suddenly has you tripping over your own thoughts. You’re biting hard onto your lower lip as you force yourself to nod hastily.
“Do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.
“Fuck, yes,” You whine. “Mmm, Tae━”
Taehyung shifts you in his lap so that your back is pressed against his chest, leaning all your weight against him. It’s hard to focus as one of his hands fondles one of your breasts while his other presses figure eights onto your clit. You’re on full display for Jungkook now, though his eyes fall to the wet spot that forms on your pretty little underwear as your arousal leaks from you.
“How badly do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.
“So badly,” You whimper.
This catches Jungkook’s attention and he leans forward in his seat. Taehyung smirks against you and then he’s moving, withdrawing his hand from between your thighs to hook around the waistband of your underwear. He gives it a quick tug and you fumble to lift your hips so he can pull the useless fabric down your legs. Once it pools at your feet, you kick it off to the side and then Taehyung’s hand returns between your thighs.
“Spread your legs,” he says.
You do as you’re told, pushing your thighs apart but then instinctively squeezing them shut when Taehyung continues to press his fingers against your clit. The sudden stimulation is too much for you and your face begins to heat up so Taehyung uses the chance to push your legs apart for you. He hitches one of your thighs over his own as if to anchor you in place and it works.
“Can you stay like that for me, baby?” Taehyung drawls. “Look at Jungkook for me.”
You nod, your throat dry as you lift your gaze to lock eyes once more with Jungkook. You find the boy gawking at your sex and you moan suddenly. His head snaps up to stare at you with a sudden blazing determination and lust in his eyes before they fall once more to your pussy, admiring the way it pulsates each time Taehyung swipes at your clit or tweaks at your nipples. But the best part? The best part is just how wet you are, your clear juices coating Taehyung’s fingers, spilling onto yours and Taehyung’s thighs with the passing seconds, and suddenly Jungkook is hungry for you. But what he doesn’t know is how you suddenly imagine Jungkook in Taehyung’s place, sat beneath you poised daintily on his lap, his fingers pressing against you.
You twist on top of Taehyung, your own hand reaching up to grasp at your other breast, pinching at the nipple tightly. A delighted moan fumbles from your lips. “Jungkook━ Fuck━”
“It’s nice, yeah?” Taehyung asks aloud to the other boy. “She’s pretty, hm?”
Jungkook nods eagerly and then groans. “She’s dripping. Fuck, it’s so hot.”
Your face burns at his words but you don’t have enough wits to think of a snarky retort like usual.
Taehyung chuckles. “Why don’t you come here then and touch her? Taste her? Is that okay, baby?”
When you realize Taehyung is asking you, you nod eagerly. “Shit, please━ Jungkook, wanna feel you━”
At your request, Jungkook practically tumbles out of his seat. As soon as he’s standing on his feet, the realization seems to hit him and he takes his time, walking to you slowly. His gaze sweeps over your exposed body and he licks his lips, his eyes suddenly darkening. Taehyung doesn’t stop touching you or marking your neck his even as Jungkook walks closer and it hits you in that moment what exactly you’re doing and who you’re with ━ and you fucking love it. Jungkook kneels down in front of you and Taehyung nods in encouragement.
“She’s impatient and feisty,” Taehyung informs. “But that makes her fun to tease.”
“I know how to pleasure a girl,” Jungkook quips.
“But you don’t know how to pleasure Y/N,” Taehyung replies. “You’re too cocky, Jungkookie, and she doesn’t like that. You need to take your time with her and you don’t do that often with girls, do you?”
Jungkook doesn’t respond but, judging by his face, you assume Taehyung is right.
“What do you want me to do?” Jungkook asks. He’s staring at your face now and only your face. His intense stare makes you squirm on Taehyung’s lap, and makes you suck your lower lip between your teeth.
“Touch me,” You rasp. “Touch me, please, Jungkook.”
God, how he loves hearing you moan his name. But the anticipation is killing you. You’ve felt Taehyung’s fingers plenty of time; you’ve never felt Jungkook’s, and the abrupt need seems to grow more intense with each passing second.
“You heard her, Jungkookie,” Taehyung says. He draws his hand away from your heat and kisses your neck softly. “Go on. Touch her. Be gentle, go slow.”
Jungkook is shaking with excitement ━ or maybe it’s just the weed and alcohol in his bloodstream ━ but he eyes you carefully, gnawing down on his lower lip. He reaches out at a tedious pace and hesitates, his fingers hovering over your core. Taehyung is watching with eager eyes whilst planting open mouthed kisses along your shoulders, neck, and jawline. Jungkook finally presses his fingers against your pussy and your reaction is immediate. You toss your head back against Taehyung’s shoulder and jutt your hips forward.
“Nnngh, fuck, Kook━” You whimper. “M-More━ Wanna feel more━”
Jungkook takes that as a good sign and follows after Taehyung, rubbing circles into your clit slowly. He feels just how wet you are, his fingers coating with your cum as they move with ease past your folds, and it’s enough to let the wave of glee wash over him again.
“See? Look how much she loves it already,” Taehyung says. “Keep going.”
Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. As he rubs his fingers over your clit, his other hand comes up in a greedy fashion. He can’t stop himself from slipping a finger past your folds and it takes all you can not to moan out loud but you give up on the prospect of remaining quiet when it feels so good to have both boys on you.
“Let him know how you feel, baby,” Taehyung purs. “How he’s making you feel.”
You struggle to find your voice momentarily, too caught up with the lust and desire but then a cry of delight falls from your lips. “Fuck, ah, Jungkook! That feels s-so good━”
Jungkook’s head snaps up to look at you in pure disbelief.
“Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot,” he huffs. “I never thought you’d moan my name and now you’re so wet and tight and for me━”
“And me,” Taehyung admonishes offhandedly.
Jungkook doesn’t reply but that’s mostly because he’s suddenly fixated on curling his finger inside of you and watching your every reaction. Your hips jut forward and you cry out, panting at the blissful feeling but it isn’t enough. You need more, and you need more now. As if Taehyung can read your mind, he chimes in again, disrupting yours and Jungkook’s reverie.
“Why don’t you have a taste of her?” he asks. “You won’t regret it.”
Jungkook’s eyes light up and he watches as you nod eagerly, desperate pleas coming from your mouth. Jungkook lowers himself down between your thighs and you wait with bated breath before he’s licking a clean stripe against your folds with his flattened tongue. The sudden slippery warmth has your body writhing in pleasure.
“Jungkook━” You cry out. “Oh my god━”
Jungkook grins. Then he’s licking at you again, tasting your sweet succulence, and groans into your hot core.
“Shit,” Jungkook huffs. “You taste amazing.”
He nibbles down slightly on your clit without warning and tugs. You instantly jerk into his mouth, a strangled moan ripping from your throat that sounds something like a scold of his name and a desperate plea for more. “Jungkook!”
Taehyung snickers against your neck and you can feel Jungkook’s lips curl into a taunting smirk between your thighs. Jungkook’s finger still curls deep within you as his tongue returns to lapping at your clit and you can feel his nose brushing against you the deeper he burrows into you. Meanwhile, Taehyung is continuing to ravish your neck, his hands tweaking at your nipples. The onslaught of senses is so much for you that you nearly scream when Jungkook’s tongue dips into your heat so suddenly to accompany his finger. He laps at you hungrily and you gasp, your breath stuttering as your hands come down to tug hard in his raven locks, your hips bucking forward and into his mouth. It feels fantastic, too incredible for you to put into words, as you feel the wetness of his tongue lap at your walls and suddenly you’re aware of just how susceptible you are to both of the boys near you.
“Fuck, don’t stop, Jungkook,” You moan.
“Now who’s the needy one?” Jungkook coos against your cunt. “Gonna cum on my tongue?”
“P-Please━ Want it so badly, Kook━”
He smacks his lips against you, taking as much as he can of you into his mouth and sucking hard until all you hear are the lewd wet sounds of his tongue and finger working miracles against you. You’re clutching his hair so tight, pushing him closer into your heat but he doesn’t relent. One of his hands comes up to hold onto your waist, to push you firmly back onto Taehyung’s lap and closer into Jungkook’s mouth. You can feel Taehyung’s budding erection poking against your thigh and it’s enough to make you flustered once more.
In an attempt to help Taehyung, you find yourself grinding not only into Jungkook’s mouth but onto Taehyung’s lap, earning a growl into your neck. Taehyung’s free hand comes up to your chin which he grabs roughly. He forces you to look at him and then he’s smashing his lips onto yours in a heated fashion for an entirely ungraceful kiss. It’s needy and hot, completely open mouthed as your tongues mingle in the air and as Taehyung sucks on your lower lip. Yet you tear your gaze from Taehyung to look down at Jungkook as he buries himself further into your pussy, his nose nuzzling against your clit. You’re dripping by now and you can see your own juices smear onto his lips, dribble down to his chin, and it’s the hottest thing you could ever imagine seeing. He doesn’t seem to care as it spills down his neck and suddenly the mere sight has you squirming again. You part from Taehyung’s mouth with a wet pop that rings in your ears and moan.
“Fuck━ nghn, I━I━ think I’m close,” You whimper.
“Fuuck, yes,” Jungkook growls against you.
“Let it go, baby,” Taehyung hums, nibbling at your ear. “Cum for him, for us.”
Jungkook’s pace quickens, pumping his finger faster in you and sucking at your clit until you have no more strength to hold off. Your hands fumble in his hair, trying desperately to pull him closer, and you hate how badly you want your sweet release already. It doesn’t help when Taehyung twists your body ever so slightly so that he can lean down to your breasts and catch one of your nipples between his teeth. His tongue swishes back and forth against the perked bud and you whimper again, the coil in your stomach tightening and loosening.
You’re so close now and Jungkook can hear it, can feel it, can taste it. You don’t have much longer after that before your orgasm is hitting you hard.
“I’m gonna━” You reach out to grasp at Jungkook’s hair, tugging at the roots. “Fuck, Jungkook━”
You cry out suddenly, the coil in your stomach springing apart. Jungkook moans into your pussy as you cum, pulsating around his tongue and finger and dripping into his mouth. You’re reduced to nothing but a whimpering, writhing mess against Taehyung as you buck back and forth into Jungkook’s mouth to ride out your high. Taehyung pulls apart from you to rub circles into your hips and the seemingly gentle move somehow soothes the intense wave of pleasure into something much sweeter. Fire burns at your core and flicks outward until your whole body is warm and numb and then you collapse against Taehyung’s chest, panting hard. Jungkook drinks up every last bit of you and you begin to cringe at the oversensitivity before you gain some of your wits again. You push his head away hastily and this time he relents.
“Did all your little happy wet dreams finally come true, Jeon?” You snicker languidly.
The boy sits back on his knees and looks up at you, locking gazes with yours. You can finally see his face, his tousled black hair, his swollen red lips, and chin, all of which are covered in your perfect sheen. He licks at his lips and wipes at his chin and neck where his tongue can’t reach and he does all of this without breaking eye contact with you. A small smirk forms on his face and suddenly you’re filled with an intense need for payback.
“Yeah, you act confident now but you seemed to enjoy it when you were riding my face,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, about to reply before he adds, “So, you’re welcome.”
“You’re impossible,” You huff, pushing yourself off of Taehyung’s lap.
“Where do you think you’re going, baby?” Taehyung mewls behind you. “We still need you.”
“Oh, I know,” You quip. You reach down to grab onto Jungkook’s chin, forcing him to look up at you. “But it’s my turn, don’t you think, Tae?”
Taehyung chuckles and nods in agreement. Jungkook, however, hardly looks bothered, though he seems a little taken aback by your sudden assertiveness when you begin pulling him up to his feet before pushing him back onto the bed. Taehyung scoots over so that the three of you can fit comfortably on his bed and then you’re moving, crawling over to Jungkook on your hands and knees.
“Are you trying to intimidate me?” Jungkook asks. “Because this is sexier than it is scary.”
You’re hovering over his crotch when he speaks, your greedy hands reaching forward to brush against his hard dick straining in his jeans. He nearly jolts in his seat at the sudden touch and you and Taehyung giggle again.
“Mmm, baby, teach him a lesson,” Taehyung hums. “Suck him off nice and slow but don’t let him cum.”
“Not unless he begs for it,” You say wickedly.
Taehyung stifles a chuckle. “I told you she’s feisty, Jungkookie.”
The younger boy is eyeing you carefully as you busy yourself by undoing the belt buckle on his jeans. He acts unimpressed, unfazed, as you unbutton his jeans and began sliding them off his legs, but you can see the needy and impatient glint in his eyes. Your eyes fall immediately to the ever present straining bulge in his boxers and you gulp in response, licking your lips. You can’t help yourself when you reach out to brush your fingers faintly along his length. He jolts in his seat and grits his teeth, shooting you a hard glare.
“Are you seriously going to tease me?” Jungkook grumbles. “We can skip all of that, y’know━”
“It’s payback, Jeon,” You hum, running your fingers down his dick and then back up again. “Where’s the fun in it if I skip all of the teasing?”
“You know,” Taehyung murmurs from beside you. He’s reclining back, watching you with intense eyes and is completely shameless about his prominent erection contained by his boxers. “I’m surprised the idiot hasn’t referred to his dick yet as Jungcock.”
You giggle, an all too innocent and sweet sound for the way you’re palming at Jungkook’s dick. Jungkook, who is apparently having a rather difficult time keeping up with his surroundings while your fingers continue to work against him, scoffs. His eyebrows knit together as he throws a beady glare at the older boy.
“You’re ruining the mood,” he grunts.
Taehyung clicks his tongue against his teeth, a smirk tugging at his luscious lips. “Of course. I digress.”
You turn your attention back to Jungkook who’s staring down at your hand with parted lips and a crease in his brows. Without warning, you grasp him through his boxers and he groans suddenly, bucking forward. The desperation of his situation only seems to increase in severity when you peel back the elastic band of his boxers and slide them off his legs, finally freeing his dick which springs out from it’s confines. He’s much bigger than you expected, his tip angry and red, leaking with pearly beads that dribble down his length and the bulging veins that line it.
“You’re staring again,” Jungkook hums when he notices you pause, your eyes wide. “Sure you don’t like what you see?”
You shake yourself from your daze and frown. “Shut up.”
The boy starts to chuckle at your flustered expression but yelps when you clasp your fingers around the base of his cock. A beautiful moan falls from his lips and excites you even more. You start pumping him slowly, guiding your hands up and down his length in careful and measured motions, wiping your thumb across his tip each time you reach it. Jungkook shudders in your touch, his teeth coming down to gnaw hard on his lower lip. His eyes are glued to your hands working against him, his face scrunching up in pure euphoria.
“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts, his head lolling back. “Stop teasing me and go faster.”
You don’t listen. If anything, you slow your pace and it has him so frustrated that he lets an involuntary whimper escape him. He bucks into your clenched hand, practically begging for more but remains quiet, safe for his heavy panting.
“You heard her, Kook,” Taehyung says. “Beg for her.”
“There’s no way I’m begging,” Jungkook hisses through gritted teeth. “Never. I never have and never will.”
“Bullshit,” You scoff. You fondle at his balls with your other hand and he moans again. Your hand comes to a complete halt all of a sudden, interrupting Jungkook as he is about to speak. Before he can protest, you lean down and lick at his tip, swirling your tongue around him once to taste his saltiness. His hips rut forward into you but you pull back almost immediately and find Jungkook gaping. You meet his desperate eyes for a steady gaze. “Beg. Just once, Jungkookie.”
Jungkook’s stare wavers as you run your fingers along his tip, squeezing slightly. He tries to compose himself, to remain calm, but when you are relentless, he caves very easily. He only gives in when you kiss the base of his cock. And those eyes ━ fuck, the way your eyes turn so wide and already look so fucked out. How could he resist you?
“Fuck, fuck, okay,” he gasps. “I need more, baby, please. Ah, please━ You feel so fucking good.”
His needy pleas satisfy you and your lips curl into a devious grin. You lower yourself on him suddenly, licking a clean stripe up his length and he moans loudly. You enclose your mouth around his tip and suck, earning a small growl from him as he pushes his hips forward for more. In the next second, you sink your mouth down his length, taking as much of him as you can.
“Fuck!” he moans abruptly. “Ahh, shit, that feels amazing, baby.”
You hollow out your cheeks as you pull your head up and then back down, starting at an even pace that has him moaning and writhing beneath you. He feels much bigger in your mouth but you don’t mind even when he bucks himself into you unexpectedly and hits the back of your throat. The action makes you gag around him and, in return, he curses at the way it feels.
“K-Keep doing that,” he mumbles. “Please, fuck, just like that.”
His fingers thread in your hair and he pulls you down greedily on him but you don’t refuse.
“Can you do it, baby girl?” Taehyung questions. His hand finds his way on your back where he rubs gentle circles into your skin. “Can you take all of him in your mouth?”
You nod carefully around Jungkook’s hardened length.
“Good girl,” Taehyung smirks. “Go slow.”
You follow his orders, sinking gradually onto Jungkook until you feel the tip of him hitting the back of your throat. You gag once more but, instead of pulling back, you shut your eyes and take a few deep breaths in through your nose. In, out, in, out, and then you swallow. Jungkook’s reaction is sudden and intense. He bucks into your mouth unwillingly and moans even louder, his fingers clutching at your roots.
“That’s it, baby,” Taehyung hums and his sudden presence is comforting.
“A-Again,” Jungkook stammers. “Again, please━ holy shit, you feel amazing.”
You swallow again and then a third and each time you can feel yourself sinking lower onto him. Tears prickle at your eyes as your nose is suddenly pressed against his lower abdomen but his reactions are well worth it and so you continue.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung says, planting a chaste kiss against your shoulder. “You deserve some more attention, hm?”
His fingers slowly rub circles down your back, his lips following your arch and has you shivering beneath him, before stopping at the dip just above your ass. He’s kneeling behind you now, his fingers massaging into your thighs. You sigh against Jungkook when you feel Taehyung’s fingers continue their trek to your ass, rubbing you carefully. You, in response, push your hips back, waiting for more.
“You’re still so wet, baby,” Taehyung says. “I bet you’d come with one touch of my finger.”
With Jungkook buried hilt deep inside your mouth, you’re hardly prepared for when Taehyung slips his fingers underneath to your folds. It’s embarrassing to admit how right he is. You react instantly, moaning around Jungkook and jutting your hips back for more. The simple vibration has Jungkook groaning, his hips bucking forward. You hadn’t even been aware of just how wet you are before Taehyung pointed it out but then you can feel it, pulsing out of you and dripping down the top of your inner thighs.
“But you need more, don’t you?” Taehyung asks. “How about my cock? Will you let me fuck you, baby girl?”
You nod eagerly, the simple question exciting you even more. Taehyung chuckles and leans down to press a kiss to the arch of your back.
“But you’ll have to be good and keep pleasuring Jungkook too, okay?” Taehyung says.
You hum in response and swallow around Jungkook as if to tell both boys that you have no plans on stopping. Jungkook twitches inside you and scrunches his eyes shut.
“Fuck, Taehyung,” he grumbles. “Hurry up. Any time you touch her, she swallows. It feels so good.”
Taehyung snickers but he takes his time. He runs his fingers up and down your folds until you’re moaning needily against Jungkook. You look over your shoulder to see Taehyung’s fingers wrapped around his own hardened and pulsating erection, pumping himself a few times as he stares at you carefully. He positions himself behind you and takes the chance to run his tip and length along your folds. You whimper suddenly, hoping your desperate noises will spur him on.
“You want more, baby?” Taehyung asks.
You hum again, your voice muffled and hoarse.
“Okay,” he sighs. “Only because you’ve been so good.”
You have no time to brace yourself from the sudden impact of feelings. He doesn’t do much except for push himself into you, past your folds. It’s only just the tip and yet your heart jolts in your chest, the coil in your stomach tightens. It feels so good to finally have something of larger girth in you that you gap, simultaneously sinking down further onto Jungkook. The two boys grunt above you, both of them panting hard.
“You feel so good, baby,” Taehyung mumbles. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
He leans down to press a kiss against your shoulder, his other hand coming up to rest on the dip of your lower back to guide you. He slowly, so very slowly, pushes himself into you, inch by inch, so you can feel the way he stretches you open, feel the way he buries into you. Your leaking arousal only proves to be of an advantage, letting him easily push into you without any trouble. Your fingers grip the bed sheets beneath you in an ironclad grip and you squeak when he’s finally buried hilt deep within you. You nearly gag around Jungkook again, who’s still panting and writhing above you, but the way Taehyung’s tongue marks patterns into your shoulder comforts you. You whine against Jungkook, pushing your hips back for more and the simplicity of your action has Taehyung’s breath hitching in his throat.
“So warm,” he grunts and then sighs against your back. “You always feel so amazing.”
He still hasn’t moved and you’re beginning to grow impatient, distraught over the feeling of him rock hard inside you but unmoving. You debate pulling apart from Jungkook to yell at Taehyung but you assume he can understand your haste judging by the way your body writhes beneath him, your fingers clench into fists. He pulls out in one languid movement, his breath stuttering, until only his tip is left before he pushes himself back in, equally as slow. He sets at a steady, easy pace that, at the very least, lets you grasp onto some sensible thoughts and pushes you to keep pleasing Jungkook. Jungkook can’t take it anymore; he starts rutting his hips up into your mouth with gritted teeth. It’s a hot, erotic mess of mingled moans and groans but you never want it to stop ━ in fact, you want more.
“You like that, baby?” Taehyung grunts.
You nod hurriedly, humming in response.
“Ah, fuck━” Taehyung groans. “Want it harder?”
You nod once more, this time eagerly. When Taehyung pulls back one more time, he slams himself back into you without any warning and you jerk forward, sinking down onto Jungkook. The younger boy moans, his head lolling back as his fingers twisting in your hair. You don’t expect Taehyung to do the same thing again, pull out slowly and then push himself back in with more force, but he does, and he repeats the action again and again until he abandons it for a whole new pace. Soon, he’s thrusting into you hard and fast but always making sure his hips reconnect with yours before pulling out so you can feel him practically in your throat.
“Like being fucked like this?” Taehyung asks. “You like being used like a little slut?”
His thrusts are relentless suddenly, jerking your body and back and forth until he’s fucking you in a way that has you sucking off Jungkook just right so that you hardly have to put in any effort. Although his hard thrusts feel amazing, each time you’re pushed forward, you sink further down onto Jungkook unwillingly and that, paired with the way Jungkook frantically fucks himself into your mouth, you nearly gag each time as he hits the back of your throat, drool pooling at your lips and dribbling down your chin. Tears prick at your eyes from the feeling and it’s too pleasing to quit, to pull away from Jungkook just yet. Jungkook’s staring down at you when he notices your scrunched up face. You’re surprised when his hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing reassuringly into your cheekbone.
“You’re doing so━ ah, fuck━ so well, baby,” he rasps.
You can taste the saltiness of precum on the tip of your tongue and you wonder how close he is. You have no qualms in finishing him off then and there but soon the pleasure you’re receiving from Taehyung becomes too much. Soon, he’s hitting you at an angle that shakes something in you. You pull apart from Jungkook with a loud pop, saliva and cum coating his length and your lips, and a gasp wretches from your throat.
“Fuck!” You cry hoarsely. “Ah, T-Taehyung!”
You’re too weak to push yourself up and end up burying your head in Jungkook’s lower abdomen, feeling the heat consume you. You’re near numb, senseless, as you let Taehyung ravish your body, fuck you hard into the mattress and Jungkook. It’s a frantic build up, an intense wave of emotions that you seem to pass through, and you can hardly bring yourself to react. All you can hear is the sound of moaning and skin against skin and the heat seems to make its way up to your head, making you warm and fuzzy. Jungkook gently pulls at your face, lifting you up and bringing you to him so that he can smash his lips onto yours and all you can taste is bitter liquor, you, and him, but that doesn’t stop him from sucking on your lower lip even when you pull apart to moan and gasp.
“T-Tae,” You sob. “Fuck, Tae, I━I’m c━close━”
“Cum for me, baby girl,” he murmurs. “Let me hear you.”
You shake your head frantically at the sensitive sting between your legs still raw from your orgasm from Jungkook, shutting your eyes. Taehyung’s hands find their way onto your hips and he pulls you down his length until you’re balls deep and pauses. He lifts your hips and you can feel him twitch inside you that it even makes your own thighs tremble and shake. You’re sure you’ll collapse on him if he doesn’t hold onto you and he must realize this too because he grips your hips tight to continue thrusting into you. Soon you’re tumbling towards your high. Taehyung’s pumps are frantic, growing sloppy with each passing second, as he pushes you to yours and his high. The coil snaps in your stomach again and you’re in a moment of freefall where you’re stunned by the wave of pleasure. Then, Taehyung is bringing you back down to reality with his hard thrusts, the way he moans, and the lewd wet sounds of him pumping himself into you.
“Ah, T-Tae━” You whimper. “So good, fuck━”
His name falls from your lips in a repeated mantra. You crumble beneath him, collapsing entirely against Jungkook, who’s brushing your hair away from your face. You’re shaking with each touch, your walls pulsing around Taehyung and clenching hard. He moans and curses behind you and you know he must be close to his high because he, too, is fumbling for it. His thrusts are even more hasty and soon he’s reaching his climax. His moans increase in volume and his thrusts become sloppier until he finally pulls his cock from your walls and nearly collapses against your back.
With his hand clenched tightly around his shaft, he jerks himself off until he’s releasing onto your back in white hot spurts. He’s panting hard, sweat coating his forehead, but he takes the time to press chaste kisses along your back and shoulders as the two of you attempt to calm your shrill hearts. It’s silent in the room for a moment despite your panting breaths. Taehyung takes a moment to grab his discarded shirt and wipe at the mess he’s made before he collapses next to you at long last with a huff of air. You moan wearily, rolling off of Jungkook to lay on your back between the two.
“God, you’re amazing,” Taehyung sighs.
You giggle up at the boy and lean towards him to kiss. His fingers rake in your hair and a few silent seconds pass before you’re nearly back to an even breathing pace. That’s when you notice Jungkook, his hand gripped tightly around his still painfully hard dick.
“Jungkook,” You pur his name, catching his attention. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” he quips.
“It’s your turn,” Taehyung points out. Jungkook glances at Taehyung and then down at you, quirking an eyebrow.
“W-Well, I just thought━” Jungkook stammers. “I just thought you’ve had enough. It’s okay, you don’t have to.”
“I call bullshit again,” You scoff.
“Baby girl,” Taehyung hums, “do you want Jungkookie to fuck you?”
You nod eagerly but Jungkook doesn’t seem too convinced, or maybe he’s hesitant. Taehyung’s eyeing him closely, curiously, before he gaps. He bursts out into a fit of chuckles, earning both yours and Jungkook’s attention.
“Shit, of course,” Taehyung grins. “He’s probably gonna let go the minute he’s in you. You’re close, hm?”
“Only because she’s already been down on me,” Jungkook grumbles.
“You know that’s not it,” Taehyung replies. “You’ve been wanting this forever.”
Jungkook’s eyes suddenly darken as he glares at the older boy. “Taehyung.”
“Wait, what?” You ask, turning to gawk at both.
“Jungkook has a little crush on you,” Taehyung smirks. “This is all he’s ever wanted. I bet he’ll bust a nut the second he fucks you and he’s embarrassed.”
You gasp as you turn to face Jungkook who looks entirely disgruntled but you’re more shocked about the fact that Jungkook likes you than anything else. Jungkook, notoriously arrogant fuckboy, who’s seemingly made it his mission to give you a headache every waking moment by trying to flirt with you. And maybe you’ve always sort of known it; maybe you’ve always sort of felt the same.
“That’s not true!” Jungkook protests. “I━I━ Well, Tae hardly finishes when he’s with another girl. He’s jacked off to the thought of you before, too━”
Taehyung starts. “Fuck off━”
You’re stuck between the bickering boys, staring up at both of them with a dumbfounded expression. Before either boy can strangle the other, you’re speaking up and interrupting them.
“I don’t mind,” You say. “I’m just… surprised.”
Both boys are silent now, aggravated probably, and you giggle. You reach up to rake your fingers in Taehyung’s hair and then look up at Jungkook, using your other hand to grab onto his chin once more and force him to face you.
“Come here, you idiot,” You drawl. “I want you to fuck me. Wanna feel your dick.”
Jungkook seems taken aback but then his eyes are sweeping down your body and he writhes in his seat. Before he can protest, you’re pulling him down onto you to kiss. It’s passionate and rough but hot altogether as your lips smack against one anothers. Jungkook’s desperate situation seems to hit him again, especially when you snake one of your hands down to his length and wrap your fingers around him to jerk him off. He pulls apart from you, gulping.
“Fuck, okay, okay,” he gasps. “I need to be in you right now, please.”
You and Taehyung smirk as Jungkook shifts around on the bed to kneel between your legs. He pauses, glancing up at you once more and noting the way you bite your lower lip seductively, before finally pushing himself in. He goes slow, but not as gradual as Taehyung. You can still feel him stretching you open and he groans. He seems to slide the rest of the way in with a lewd squelch sound because of just how wet you are and then he’s buried balls deep, fitting so snug within you.
“Holy shit,” he whines. “You weren’t kidding, Tae. She feels amazing.”
Taehyung hums in agreement. “What does she feel like? Let her know, Kookie.”
Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut momentarily to focus. “Wet,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Warm, tight ━ fuck, so tight.”
He marvels at the feeling, wonders how you can still clench so tightly around him despite being stretched wide by Taehyung. He bows his head to rest in the crook of your neck and moans. His words are enough to spur on your own reaction and you whimper against him.
“Oh, fuck, Jungkook━”
The sensitivity you feel in your core met with his hard cock makes you cringe but simultaneously pleases you and you’re bucking your hips for more. He groans at the feeling, his hands flying down to grip your hips. He’s big, stretching you wide, but you feel anything but pain except for the sharp burning sensation as the intensity of your past orgasms start to hit you. He rolls his hips back and then thrusts into you so hard that you yelp and jerk back on the bed.
“Go easy on her, Jungkook,” Taehyung admonishes. “She’s not a doll.”
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook sighs, nipping at your throat. “You just feel so good, Y/N.”
“I’m okay,” You reassure. You feel his length twitch within you and your head lolls back. “Fuck, I feel more than okay.”
“Can we try something?” Taehyung asks.
He receives two weak nods in response. Jungkook pauses, shifts the two of you until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips, his dick never once slipping from your core. The older boy grabs onto you and yanks you onto his hips.
“What do you say we give Y/N the pleasure she deserves?” he asks. He pushes his length past your folds and is rewarded by the sound of your moans as your jaw unhinges. “Think you can handle both of us, baby?”
“Fuck, yes,” You gasp.
Jungkook seems just as enticed by this. He’s careful as he pushes his cock into you and your reaction is explosive. With Taehyung already stretching you wide, you wonder how Jungkook will fit but it’s snug and perfect. You can feel him stretching you further, inch by glorious inch, and he hasn’t even begun moving when your walls clench around the two of them. Taehyung hisses in your ear and Jungkook pauses at once, sputtering for air, giving you time to adjust. When Jungkook pushes himself further into your cunt, rubbing against Taehyung’s cock and your own walls, you can’t help the delicious moan that falls from your lips.
“Oh my god,” You whimper. “Fuck, fuck, that feels so fucking good━”
It’s such a sticky, hot mess, and all you can hear is the sound of guttural moans and grunts. You jut your hips forward, a silent plea for something more. Jungkook’s hand grasps at your ass and then he’s pulling out. He growls suddenly, thrusting his hips forward and the sensation suddenly overwhelms you. As he picks up a pace that leaves you breathless, Taehyung slowly thrusts into you and the pleasure becomes too much. Your hands reach out to grab at anything, fingers digging eagerly into Jungkook’s chest, Taehyung’s sides.
“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook grunts. His face is scrunched in pleasure and concentration, his mouth hanging open.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung growls. “You like being stretched wide like this, huh? Such a good girl too. Fuck━”
He’s sweating, but so are you, and all you can hear is the sound of yours and the boys’ moans, the vulgar wet slap with each thrust Jungkook makes. It’s only amplified with each small leisurely thrust Taehyung makes into your throbbing pussy, his dick rubbing against Jungkook’s with each thrust. Your walls tighten around Jungkook and Taehyung as the seconds pass and you know you’re already close to your third orgasm of the night but you try to hold off despite the room spinning. All you can do is lay there for Jungkook to ravish and control, for Taehyung to enjoy, too caught up in the moment. Your breasts bounce wildly with each thrust Jungkook makes and his gaze seems fixated on your chest before flickering down to watch himself disappear inside you each time. Taehyung is raking his fingers through your hair, soothing you through your next climax and it’s close.
“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses, panting hard. “I’m not gonna last.”
You push your hips forward as if to probe him on and he growls.
“No, shit, let me enjoy this, baby,” he whines. “Ah, so tight━”
He’s grumbling to himself, cursing under his breath and you smirk tiredly. Jungkook leans his head down to kiss at your chest, catching one of your nipples in his warm mouth. His tongue swishes back and forth over the perked bud and your chest arches into his face. Your fingers are clutching tight at his hair even as he obeys and adds more force with each thrust, slowly picking up his pace. His mouth widens and he sinks lower on your breast, humming against you in pleasure. Taehyung’s own pace quickens. It’s not as relentless as Jungkook’s but he makes sure to help aid you to your high, ramming his hips into yours until both their cocks slip into a seamless pattern. All you can focus on is the crude wetness, the way their dicks threaten to slip from your hold at how sloppy and wrecked your cunt becomes.
“Ah, yes,” You hiss. “Fuck, yes, yes━ So good, oh my god━ Right there━”
Your voice is cut off by a loud moan. You feel the familiar wave hit you once more and this time you hardly have any strength to fight it off or welcome it.
“I can’t━” You wail suddenly. “Fuck, I can’t━ I’m gonna cum━”
You’re fumbling for words to warn him that you’re close before you’re cuming around them. Their names wrench from your throat in no discernible pattern, accompanied by vulgar curses. Your body writhes between the two boys, your chest arching into his mouth, your legs tightening around Jungkook’s waist.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” Jungkook coos. “Come on, wanna feel you cream all over us━”
Stars form behind your eyelids and explode into galaxies as they swirl down your spine and to the tip of your toes, making them and your fingers curl in delight. Your vision grows blurry and tears stream down your face at the build up of pressure finally being released for the third time and you can’t help it when your mantra turns into delighted sobs and whimpers. You’re clenched so tight that Jungkook feels as if he hardly has any space to move and the confinement of his length has him gasping. He pulls apart from your breast to watch your scrunched up face with hooded eyes. He moans again, and desperately leans down to suck at your jawline.
You’re too spent to keep up with him or Taehyung as he helps you further to your high but you know Jungkook is close when his thrusts become messy, quick spurts. You gasp each time he thrusts up into you until he’s finally cuming.
“Shit,” he hisses. “Gonna cum━ Gonna let us fill you up, baby?”
“Please, please, wanna feel it,” You mewl.
He slams his hips into yours and stills for a moment as he releases into you in one hot wave and emits a beautiful moan of your name. You’re panting hard even as he rides out both your highs with a few more incredibly sloppy pumps before he finally collapses against your chest. The two of you are struggling to catch your breaths, your heart beating in your ears.
The room is silent, blissful, and it takes you a few moments of basking in it before you’ve regained your breath. Your fingers rake in Jungkook’s soft and sweaty hair and you hum in content. His mouth presses a few open mouthed and hot kisses along your neck and jawline before connecting with your own mouth. This time, the kiss is chaste and you smile against his lips before he’s pulling out of you. You moan at the missing feeling of his warmth and the way his own cum leaks from your core, down Taehyung’s cock, and your own thighs.
But Taehyung isn’t done. He thrusts up into you to ride out his own high, pushing Jungkook’s release back into you. His pace is steady, deep, and all you can both do is moan and gasp for air.
“Fuck, Tae,” You rasp tiredly. “Cum for me, baby.”
The boy gasps for air, nearly fumbling behind you to reach his high. “Gonna make this pussy mine. Fuuck━”
When Taehyung finally reaches his own high, it’s in another sticky stream of hot cum, each fluid mingling with the other in a pitiful mess. He pulls his slackened length from you and you whimper at sudden the loss, core and legs aching. As you slide onto the bed between the two tired and breathless boys, Jungkook wipes at your glistening core with a shirt and you sigh in content.
“Why haven’t we done that before?” You gasp, earning a chuckle from both. Jungkook lets out a boisterous laugh and you flick his arm. “If you say anything dumb, we’re never having a round two.”
“Round two?” he asks, wriggling his brows. “You want this to happen again?”
You nod, though you can already start to feel yourself succumb to sleep as it creeps upon you. “What do you think, Tae?”
“I think,” The older boy hums, “that’s your best idea yet.”
Jungkook seems surprised, excited even, and you smile sleepily. Taehyung throws his arm over your waist and pulls your back to his chest, wrapping you in his arms as he slips off to sleep. 
Before you fall asleep that night, you snake your arm up Jungkook’s chest and let your hand rest against his beating heart which you can still feel beating shrilly even long after your messy night together.
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You awake to the familiar sound of your alarm.
It’s loud, annoying, and jolts you awake only to toss you into a haze of muddled confusion and an incredibly terrible hangover. Your head throbs and your body aches. Sunlight splashes in from the closed blinds and illuminates your face, making you squint.
“Turn that off, Jesus Christ, Y/N,” Taehyung snaps, his voice muffled and aggravated.
Your mind is too groggy to realize he’s sleeping next to you, too groggy to suddenly remember what happened the night before. Until, of course, you feel your limbs tangled with not only Taehyung’s but another’s. When you crane your neck to look, you see Jeon Jungkook splayed out beside you sleeping peacefully and you gasp.
The events of the night before suddenly flood your mind and everything is hazy up until your wild time with the two boys. Your muddled sober mind alerts your heart and suddenly it’s beating hard and fast in your chest as you register the situation. You’re used to waking up with a naked Taehyung by your side but never were you used to waking up next to a naked Taehyung and Jungkook.
Jungkook stirs in his sleep then and you curse silently, diving for your phone on the floor before realizing your drastic mistake. Your core is still tender and your legs feel so delicate, nearly caving in beneath you as you wobble precariously. Somehow, you manage to grab your phone and tap the snooze button hastily. Taehyung’s still half asleep on his side but Jungkook lays on his back and you’re surprised to see him looking up at you with a quirked eyebrow and a tiny smirk.
“Don’t you dare say anything,” You hiss. “Holy shit, that wasn’t a dream?”
You gnaw on your lower lip and reach down blindly to grab the nearest article of clothing on the floor (one of Taehyung’s shirts) to toss over your bare body. To soothe your aching muscles, you resort to kneeling on the edge of the bed.
“It wasn’t,” Taehyung murmurs.
“Nice to know you think our dicks are dream worthy though,” Jungkook snorts. “So when’s our round two?”
Your promise from the night before dawns on you all too suddenly and, though you feign your usual annoyance for both boys, the potential prospect of another night with the two of them thrills you to no end.  
“I━ I━” You stammer.
“Come back here, baby,” Taehyung muses. “It’s too early to be up right now. You can sleep a bit longer before you pretend you hate the both of us.”
Your eyes flicker down to your phone to check the time: 6 a.m. You can barely walk, let alone function this early in the morning, even without the added stress of your hangover, and sleep seems far too appealing to ignore. Maybe you can stay for a few more hours…
“Fine,” You grumble. You crawl back between them and wiggle around until you’re laying back on the bed. “But you’re making me that cup of coffee when I wake up, Taehyung.”
“Anything else, princess?” Taehyung grins.
“Maybe run me a bath too,” You wince as you settle back against the bed. “Everything hurts.”
“Will do,” Jungkook says. “Gotta do the most to make sure we get that second round. Now, come here━”
The boys snicker and, soon, the three of you have slipped back into a peaceful slumber.
You know that when you wake you’ll profusely deny that the night before and the morning after had ever happened; that you’ll never again find yourself in either Jungkook’s or Taehyung’s bed, much less with the both of them at the same time ━ but you find that you never really listen much to rules anyway.
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sodasback · 3 years
Text
Let Go
Reposting Let Go from my deleted accounts. Minor edits made.
JJ Maybank x Reader
Just SMUT. Real filthy smut.
Warnings: Very explicit sexual content. Cursing. All consensual. 18+
JJ got a gig cleaning pools on Figure 8 for the summer. And your family had a pool. Ergo, JJ was at your house every couple weeks cleaning your pool.
Of course, you knew JJ Maybank. He was the gorgeous bad boy Pogue every girl swooned over. And JJ Maybank knew you too. You were the Kook man-eater, currently on the arm of none other than Rafe Cameron. And sure you and Rafe had a good time together and you loved how possessive he was over you, but you both knew deep down your relationship was all about status. You were the ultimate young power couple of Figure 8.  
You and JJ, on the other hand, despised each other. …but like many have said, there’s a thin line between love and hate. And the truth was: you and JJ hated each other because you wanted what the other seemed to have.
You wanted to be free. Free of the obligation and the standards and the suffocating expectations. And JJ wanted to feel secure and cared for. Fuck, he just wanted to know where his next meal was coming from and what roof he was gonna sleep under without getting yelled at.
Right now, JJ was standing shirtless and sweaty with perfectly messy wet hair as he used the net to get crap out of the pool at your house while you were coming home from a day of waxing, tanning, manicures and pedicures.
You saw JJ and decided your day just hadn’t had enough excitement in it yet.
“Hey pool boy” You called to him with the perfect amount of flirtation and snobbery. JJ looked up at you. 
“You missed a spot.” You said, pointing to the leaves that were in the pool near you. He walked over to you with his usual cocky, Kook-hating attitude.
“Yeah, so did whoever sprayed that fake tan on you.” He retorted back, gesturing to a blotchy spot on your hip exposed by your cropped tank top.
You looked down at it, “Fuck!” you cursed, causing JJ to laugh as he scooped the leaves out of the pool.
“Shit, money can buy you everything, can’t it Y/L/N?” JJ asked casually, “Fake hair, fake tan, fake nails. Is anything about you real?” He asked looking down at your bare cleavage pushing up through your top.
“There’s only one way for you to find out.” Your was voice dripping in sex and JJ looked at you in shock, not expecting your answer as his lips parted slightly, exactly the reaction you wanted.
“...too bad I don’t date stoner surf bums though.” You shrugged.
And JJ regained the composure he lost for a second as he leaned the net against the wall and turned back to face you.
“Yeah, you prefer psychotic, spoiled coke addicts, right?” He narrowed his eyes down at you and you glared at him.
“He doesn’t do that shit anymore.” You stated definitively, referring to Rafe’s drug habit.
JJ snorted and nodded at you, “Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night princess. …But I did literally just see him doing lines and drinking cocktails when I was cleaning the Cameron’s pool today.”
You felt disappointed, hurt and angry at this news. Because 1. Rafe canceled plans with you today to do “something important” for his dad and 2. You also knew Rafe wouldn’t usually drink and get high by himself, so you were pretty sure JJ was leaving part of the story out. 3. Rafe promised he wasn’t using coke anymore.
“You know he’s an asshole, right?” JJ asked, wanting you to admit you were a better person than your reputation made you out to be.
You were quiet as you internally acknowledged that JJ was right.
Without an answer from you, he sighed, “But I guess… superficial Kook princess like you will tolerate just about anything to make mommy and daddy happy with that Cameron last name.” He shrugged.
You smirked at this, “You almost sound a little jealous, Maybank.”
JJ scoffed, but you continued taking a step towards him as he held his ground. “I mean, I may not be some desperate tourist or some grungy surfer chick, but I know you think I’m hot.”
JJ broke eye contact with you and shook his head, opening his mouth to object but you took another step towards him and you could hear his breathing falter slightly as he looked back at you. So now you were ready to lie and say the thing you needed to say to get what you and JJ both desperately desired.
“And I know you wanna fuck me.” You said dangerously, taking another step so you and JJ’s bodies were almost touching, running a finger down JJ’s bare abs, making him shiver before you looked up at him, “But you’re scared. You’re scared that you wouldn’t live up to Rafe Cameron because you’re just a dirty, little Pogue from The Cut and-”
“Shut the fuck up.” JJ commanded through gritted teeth as he grabbed your hips and pushed you roughly against the wall of the pool house. You gasped and your eyes widened.
You and JJ both knew you said what you said to get to this point: You looking up at JJ with a little fear in your eyes as your heart raced and your core clenched. And JJ looking down at you like a wolf trapping his prey as he pressed your body firmly into the wall behind you with a harsh grip on your hips. He stepped in closer to you, pressing his body into your’s to keep you in place as he lifted one hand to grip your chin and smush your cheeks a little bit.
“You run that little mouth of your’s so much and no one ever puts you in your fucking place.”
You let the shock of JJ actually making this move leave as quickly as it came and you pushed back against JJ’s chest with your hands and tried to push his arm away from your face, not wanting to give in so easily. But JJ wrestled with your squirming body and grabbed both your wrists and pinned them on either side of your head. You huffed in frustration.
This caused you both to smile at each other, knowing this is what you wanted. But just in case, JJ loosened his grip on your wrists ever so slightly and looked in your eyes seriously for a second, “Hey, you want this right? Say ‘red’ if you actually wanna stop, yeah?” He asked. You looked in his eyes and nodded.
“Like how far do you want me to take this?” He checked one more time.
“Anything JJ” You told him. And he still looked unsure. “I’ll say ‘red’ if I want you to stop, promise.” And he searched your face for a second, then nodded at you sweetly before he smirked going right back “into character.”
His grip on your wrists tightened as he moved them further above your head so he could hold both of them with one hand and move his other hand to squeeze your chin and cheeks again.
“I know you’ve wanted this for a long time. I see the way you look at me. You think I don’t, but I know you open your window whenever I’m here cleaning the pool, so you can catch a glimpse of me. Or even when you’re with your douche boyfriend and see me on the street. You think I don’t see the double take you do?” He said and you tried to turn your head away from him, but he firmly turned your chin so you’d look at him again. JJ moved his grip to your jaw so you could talk.
“If you noticed all that, that means you were looking at me too. At the beach, you stare at me in my bikini. And I saw you at Boneyard parties watching me dance with my friends.” You told him.
JJ just narrowed his eyes at you, knowing he had gotten caught too. You slipped one of your wrists free and grabbed JJ’s wrist to move his hand from your jaw. But he overpowered you and pinned your arm to your side.
“So if you’ve wanted this for such a long time, why are you still fighting it? Are you this much of a fucking brat for Cameron?” JJ asked, still looking in your eyes before he moved next to your head to whisper in your ear.
You closed your eyes feeling his hot breath hit your ear as he continued, “I think it’s because, unlike me, we both know, he doesn’t give a fuck if he makes you feel good.”
JJ pressed a small kiss just below your ear and then nibbling and sucking on your earlobe causing you to let out the smallest whimper you couldn’t hold back.
“You know I’m gonna make you feel better than he ever has, but you can’t admit that, even to yourself, so you’re gonna resist me as much as you can so you can feel like you aren’t betraying him and being a shitty girlfriend for letting a pogue, none the less, be the one to make you so wet.”
JJ continued, sucking on your neck just a little and speaking again, “And you get to run the show wherever you go and even if you won’t say it, you crave for someone to take control from you and put you in your place. For once, in your god-damned spoiled princess life, you want someone to not let you be in charge.” He finished as he pressed his body against your’s before checking your expression.
You chest was heaving up and down as you breathed heavily being way more turned on having JJ Maybank pin you against a wall than you cared to admit. You glared at him with a furrow in your brow. Then you surged forward. JJ released your wrists and you grabbed a fistful of his hair with one hand and gripped his shoulder with the other as your lips crashed on his. JJ’s hand immediately went to the back of your upper thigh as he hitched one of your legs onto his hip. His other hand was squeezing your torso; his thumb sneaking underneath your bra and skimming the underside of your boob in the most aggravatingly teasing way possible.
Your mouths were already open, tongues wrestling each other, teeth hitting in the process. You jumped up and wrapped your other leg around JJ’s waist as he squeezed your legging-covered thighs.
After the initial surge of adrenaline, you both slowed down a little. You tugged at the roots of JJ’s hair and he groaned a little before biting your bottom lip and pulling away from you slightly, giving your thighs a hard squeeze at the same time.
When JJ released your lower lip, you pulled away from him, “Pool house.” Was all you said before your lips started moving against each other again and JJ walked through the door of the pool house, into the guest bedroom.
He kicked the door shut behind him as he nudged your head to the side to start leaving hot, wet open-mouth kisses along your jaw and down your neck causing you to moan as he let your legs slide down his waist so you were standing again.
His hands gripped your hips as he kept working on your neck while he walked you backwards towards the bed. He gave you no space as you fell back onto the bed and he continued to crawl over you, now taking his time to suck your neck as he propped himself up with arm near your shoulder. The other hand massaging your hip.
“Maybank, no hickeys. …Rafe.” You said. And really you said it for both your sakes, knowing if Rafe found out who you cheated on him with, it wouldn’t be good for either of you, but worse for JJ for sure.
“I really don’t give a fuck.” JJ said as he continued leaving more hickeys along your neck just to spite Rafe even more.
“Take your top off.” JJ commanded.
You rolled your eyes and took your tank top off before JJ’s hand flew to your throat holding it with only slight pressure. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”  He said calmly and almost teasingly, which only made it that much more intimidating. He knew he was really pushing your limits of being told what to do.
So after the breath hitched in your throat, you just stared at him defiantly in a stand off. JJ raised his eyebrows expecting an answer from you, but you stayed silent, rubbing your lips together firmly, contemplating your next move so JJ snaked his fingers in your hair and slowly but firmly pulled, cranking your neck to the side and eliciting a sigh full of pleasure and pain to escape your now open mouth. “Fine.” You spat out.
JJ let out a dark chuckle. “You’re such a fucking brat. But you love this don’t you?” He asked before dipping a finger in your bra cup and pulling it down so your breasts were exposed to him.
He took a moment to admire them as he squeezed one before going down and swirling his tongue around your other nipple and biting at it lightly. He looked up at you, “You like to push back because you want me to show you how much stronger I am than you. You love being dominated, huh?”
You took a deep breath as JJ put his mouth on your boob and sucked a harsh hickey there, while his hand started playing with the waist line of your leggings teasing you. “You love feeling helpless underneath me?”
He snuck his fingers underneath your leggings and your lace thong but didn’t move further yet, “Answer me.”
And with the anticipation of JJ finally touching you where you need him, the answer easily fell from your lips “Yes” you breathed out.
“Good girl” JJ praised as he ran his fingers through your folds. You let out a pained breath at finally being touched but JJ also saw the way your mouth twitched like you were going to object and then stopped.
JJ chuckled. “You don’t usually like being called a good girl. But you wanna be my good girl, don’t you?” He asked gently stroking your clit, causing you to close your eyes and open your mouth.
Then, JJ abruptly plunged a finger into you, “Don’t you?” He asked more sternly this time.
“Fuck! Yes.” You answered.
“That’s what I thought. Let’s see how much of a good girl you can be. Take off your leggings and your bra and get on your knees.” JJ said as he quickly pulled his fingers from you. And stood up from the bed.
You sat up on the bed and gaped at him as he smiled at you evilly. He knew he was really pushing your limits, but he also knew it was only turning both of you on even more.
“Seriously JJ?!” You asked getting mad about all the teasing.
When you didn’t immediately get up and follow JJ’s orders, he came over and put his hand under your chin as he pulled your lower lip down with his thumb, “Don’t make me tell you twice, sweetheart.” You narrowed your eyes at him, but grabbed his wrist as his thumb released your lip, to pull yourself up from the bed.
JJ took a step back as you stripped down to just your thong. You smiled, catching him indulging himself drinking in your naked body.
“Knees” he reminded you. And before you could even do it, JJ said, “Don’t even think about rolling your eyes.” You gathered all your strength to not be bratty back with a deep breath as you got on your knees in front of JJ.
As much as you had a love-hate relationship with the way JJ was teasing you, being in this position, on your knees in front of him, only made your panties that much more drenched. Your hands wasted no time going to his swim trunks and pulling them down releasing his cock as it slapped up against his stomach. Your mouth was practically watering.
JJ ran a hand through your hair, “Is my good girl desperate to have me in her mouth?”
“Are you gonna keep making me answer questions this whole time or are you gonna let me suck your dick?” You asked bluntly.
JJ smiled, but harshly pulled your hair eliciting a whiny “ow” from you.
“For once, you need to work for everything you get and you need to be the one not in charge Y/N. And then I’ll make you feel better than any guy ever has. But you have to be good.”
“What if I’m not?” you asked innocently, tilting your head to the side.
JJ smiled, “Then there’s just gonna be more pain with your pleasure.” He said simply and then added, “But I’m learning you’d probably like that too. You’re dirtier than I thought. You like being a little slut, huh?”
You contemplated. Wondering if you should give in to JJ or keep resisting.
You looked up at him and nodded, “Mhmm”
He smiled down at you knowing he had won a little. He pumped his cock a few times. “You want my cock in your mouth?”
“Yes, JJ” you breathed out.
“Tell me how much you want it. Work for it.”
You gathered more strength and finally decided to fully submit to JJ’s whole power dynamic.
“JJ please, I want your cock down my throat.” You said, placing your hand below his, around his cock.
“Put your mouth on it baby.” He encouraged. And you licked your lips before running your tongue along the underside of it. JJ took a sharp inhale and gathered your hair in a ponytail as you wrapped your lips around him and swirled your tongue around the head. You took more of him in your mouth sucking as your hand pumped the rest.
“Fuck Y/N.” JJ groaned and threw his head back. Your head bobbed up and down on his length as saliva started to drip down your chin just a little. Each time you went down, you took a tiny bit more of him into your mouth. One hand now running your nails along his thigh.
Finally, you took all of JJ in your mouth and his cock hit the back of your throat causing you to gag. “Fuck” JJ cursed again. He let you be in control for a few moments longer before he couldn’t help but thrust into your mouth.
“Ahh you’re such a good little slut for me Y/N. You take my cock so well.” He told you as he hit the back of throat repeatedly. “Touch yourself baby. Is choking on my cock making you wet?”
You slid your fingers through your painfully throbbing cunt and opened your eyes to look up at JJ and nodded. JJ pulled out of your mouth completely letting you breathe. “You want more baby?” He asked and you nodded your head eagerly.
“I want you to cum down my throat, J” you said. JJ bit his lip and looked at you painfully, having so many places in mind where he wanted to cum. “Fuck” He cursed again as you took him back in your mouth.
“Put your hands behind your back, pretty girl.” He said and you immediately obeyed as he fucked your face. A few more thrusts and JJ was cumming down your throat and you continued bobbing your head up and down on his cock working him through it while you swallowed. JJ pulled his cock from your mouth with a string of saliva connecting the two as you caught your breath. JJ’s body was flooded with a rush of oxytocin motivating him to lift you from the ground and onto the bed.
“Fuck, so good for me baby.” He said, wiping the saliva and cum from the corner of your mouth his thumb and then peppering kisses along your jaw and neck.
You ran your hand through his hair and pulled him away from you for a second so you could kiss his mouth. JJ and you kissed sensually as he held some of his body weight off you and then he started kissing his way down to your stomach.
He left one more gentle kiss just above the waistline of your thong before he put his arms under each of your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed while he got on his knees on the ground. He sucked red marks that would surely be turning purple on your inner thighs as he ran his finger underneath the side of your thong multiple times.
“JJ stop teasing and do something already.” You whined.
JJ chuckled, “Someone’s desperate” he teased as he pulled your panties down your legs. 
“Spread your legs for me” He commanded as he wrapped an arm around each of your thighs again and took a long look at your dripping cunt like he was looking at a piece of cake. “Ahh your pretty little pussy is so wet, Y/N. Who are you this wet for?”
“You, JJ.” You sighed out feeling his warm breath hit your core and dying for some physical contact.
“That’s right baby” He praised smugly before giving your clit a gentle kiss and then kitten licks that quickly turned to sucking on your clit.
You immediately threw your head back and closed your eyes at the pleasure. JJ was truly an expert at eating pussy. After giving your clit attention he moved down and fucked your cunt with his tongue causing your legs to clench around him and your hips to move. JJ untangled his arm from under your thigh, and grabbed one of your hands as he laid his forearm across your lower stomach to keep you still. You moved your other hand into his hair, tugging at it and making him moan into you. He then sunk 2 fingers into you and pumped in and out; curling them in just the right way while sucking on your clit again.
You moaned loudly as your legs began to quiver. “Fuck JJ!”
“You’re close pretty girl. Let go. Cum for me.” He told you and you let the rubber band snap and the waves of your orgasm rush over you. You tried to close your legs but JJ kept them open working you through it and lapping up every drop of your cum he could before you pushed his head away gently. JJ stood up and pulled you up to a sitting position on the side of the bed after you caught your breath.
JJ held his fingers dripping in your cum in front of your mouth. You obediently opened your mouth and sucked on his fingers, tongue swirling around them. “Such a good little whore for me.” You leaned forward, loving the way JJ talked to you and he noticed.
He pulled his fingers from you mouth and held your chin tilted up at him. “God, you’re so much kinkier than I thought. You like being called names, huh?”
You nodded and then looked away and blushed. “I like when you call me names. I don’t know why- I-”
“No. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s fucking hot. I love that you wanna be called my little cockslut. That for once you don’t need to be this perfect Kook. You can be a dirty little slut for me.” He said pecking your cheek and rubbing his thumb across your chin. 
Then, he paused for a second like he was hesitant about something but then he said, “Open your mouth for me and stick out your tongue.” He commanded as he pulled down your chin with his thumb.
You did as you were told and stuck out your tongue. JJ bent down a little and spit in your mouth. “Fucking swallow.” He ordered lowly. And you swallowed it greedily, feeling your pussy throbbing again. JJ noticed your legs rubbing together and he grew hard again at the sight of you being turned on from him spitting in your mouth.
“Fuck” JJ cursed to himself for the umpteenth time. Then, he was caught off guard as you pulled him onto the bed and crawled on top of him.
“JJ, I need you inside me.” You told him as you straddled him and pinned his wrists to the bed.
JJ looked at you amused, “Oh you think you’re gonna be on top for this?” JJ asked incredulously. 
You smiled at him. “Yup” you said, as you released one of his wrists so you could line him up with your entrance. But before you could, JJ easily flipped the two of you over and pinned your arms down.
“JJ!” You protested in frustration and tried to sit up or flip over again, but JJ just kissed you hard into the mattress. Then he sunk into you, pulling away from the kiss at the same time to hear your moan as you felt him fill you up.
“Shit y/n/n.” JJ hissed, “You’re so tight, baby.” He laced his fingers through your’s, “Ready?” He asked. You nodded your head. And JJ started to rock his hips slowly into you.
“Faster, J” You told him and he just smirked at you causing you to furrow your brow in confusion.
“Beg for it.” He stated.
“JJ” You warned sternly and you wrapped your legs around his waist to try and get leverage to flip you both over so you could control the pace but it was no use.
“Nice try. ..Tell me I’m better than Rafe and I’ll give you what you want.” He said smugly. You immediately rolled your eyes and JJ stopped completely.
“Wrong move princess. Get on your elbows and knees, ass up.” he commanded darkly as he pulled out of you. You whined at the empty feeling. “I’m not telling you again.” JJ said.
“Relax” You grumbled as you got on your elbows and knees and JJ immediately landed a hard slap to your ass.
“Ow! Fuck J!” You yelled at him. JJ spotted a scarf hanging off the headboard and grabbed it.
“Sit up on your knees. Give me your hands” He said tying your hands together with the scarf.
“Really JJ?” You asked.
“You know, I wonder how hard I need to go to fuck that attitude out of you” JJ wondered out loud as he turned to grab something else.
“Maybe if you actually fucked me hard, you could find ou-” You couldn’t finish what you were saying because JJ had stuffed your drenched lace thong in your mouth making you even more turned on and frustrated at the same time. 
JJ pushed you down onto you elbows and then propped your ass up further in the air. “There” he said satisfied landing another slap to your other ass cheek causing a muffled squeak to come from you.
“You’ve been such a bratty little slut for me. I don’t think you deserve to get fucked. But I can’t resist your tight little cunt.” JJ said sinking into you from behind. “Fuck Y/N” he groaned stretching you out again and then slamming into you hard. He continued thrusting into you and then felt your walls clench a little. “Don’t you dare cum, pretty girl.”
“Please JJ” You whined around your thong. JJ reached around and pulled your panties from you mouth. “What was that sweetheart?”
“Please JJ.”
“Please what?”
“Please let me cum. I’ll do anything.” You begged as he continued thrusting into you.
“Tell me I’m better than Rafe.” He spat out.
“Yes, JJ you’re better than Rafe. Fuck!”
“Are you mine or his?” He asked.
“I’m your’s JJ. I’m a filthy little slut for you. Please!” You whimpered.
“Cum all over my cock, baby.” He told you. Your orgasm hit you hard and JJ fucked you through it and then he kept going and reached a hand around to play with your clit. You whimpered from the overstimulation.
“Fuck J, stop, too much.” You whined. And tried to move his hand away. He used his other hand to pull you up by your hair so your back was flush against his chest. “Fucking take it.” He said through gritted teeth as a second orgasm built. “Cum with me one more time. Be my filthy little cockslut baby.”
You moaned loudly as JJ bit into your shoulder and you both reached your climax again. JJ thrusted slowly as you came down from your highs. He slowly pulled out of you and gently laid you both down. He pulled the comforter over you both as you turned to face him and nuzzled into his neck. He wrapped his arms around you as you both laid together naked and completely blissed out.
“You okay? Was that okay? Did we go too far?” JJ asked with his chin on the top of your head. You leaned back a little so he could see your face.
“That was fucking hot Maybank.”  You said and pecked his lips before snuggling back into him. He let out a relieved chuckle and pecked the top of your head.
As you laid there in JJ’s arms, you felt …free. You reached a hand around to comb through JJ’s hair at the back of his head as you rubbed your thumb back and forth his skin where your hand was on his back. And JJ felt …secure and taken care of.
It turned out that you could give each other what the other one so desperately needed.
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outerbankies · 3 years
Text
new light part 4: underneath the moonlight — rafe cameron
new light series masterlist
summary: you and rafe meet the parents (properly) and go to midsummers together, but not everyone is as smitten with your relationship as you two are.
pairing: rafe x kook reader
warnings: drinking, swearing
a/n: say hello to a few characters (tw: ward) i have had yet to feature thus far 🤗 more of y/n being besties with kelce (and topper this time—our fave obx himbo) there’s a lil drama in this part y’all... into the thick of it. thanks for all the feedback 💖not canon rafe
my writing
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yeah if you give me just one night, to meet you underneath the moonlight
You’re startled awake by a loud knock on your bedroom door. You’re squished between 6 feet and 3 inches worth of boy and the pink wall your bed is pushed up against. Rafe always insisted on laying on your outer side, closest to the door of your bedroom. Which means you often woke up pressed into the wall, your neck sometimes aching from the awkward angle. Not to mention Wilbur always taking up the space at your feet, Rafe usually nudging him into your space so he could stretch out.
Rafe stirs also, making sleepy noises and stretching his legs where they hang off the end of your bed. He grumbles and smacks his lips together a few times, your hand instinctively coming to rub along his jaw. His eyes flutter open as the sun streams in through your window, illuminating the hint of golden stubble on his chin. You’d only slept over together a few times, since you were both staying with your parents for the summer, so it’s always nice to wake up with your boy in your bed.
Oh fuck. Your boy is in your bed.
Rafe's eyes widen at the same time as yours.
“Oh shit, we fell asleep?” he whispers, head whipping around your room.
“Fuck, you have to hide right now,” you whisper, stumbling through your thoughts sleepily.
Another knock sounds from the door.
You extract yourself from your spot between Rafe and the wall, his hands guiding you by your hips as you tumble over him.
“Just, fuck, just like—get under the covers or something. God, I hope it’s not my dad,” you whisper.
“Me too,” he says, slinking into the gap between your bed and the wall as best he can, covering his face with a pillow.
You check that he’s concealed enough, turning to open the door just the slightest bit. Dylan stands in the crack.
“We have brunch at the Club in an hour, mom wanted me to ask if you invited Rafe,” he peers around you, gaze moving to behind your shoulder. “Or I could just ask him myself. Sup, Rafe?”
“Shut the fuck up, Dyl,” you whisper-shout. “Where are mom and dad? Can he sneak out the back? And don’t lie to me, or I’ll tell them about Hilton Head.”
“God, calm down. Dad’s in the garage and mom’s getting ready. Just have him go now.”
“Thanks,” you say, all but slamming the door in his face. You turn around and press your back against the door, letting out a shaky breath.
The covers rustle, and Rafe springs out of your bed to gather his things while Wilbur watches him. He always starts pouting when he notices that Rafe is putting on his hat or shoes, signs that he’s about to leave.
“We are so dead.”
“You don’t think he’ll say anything, do you? I don’t think I can sit at brunch with your dad in an hour if he knows I slept in your bed last night.”
“Not if he’s smart,” you sigh. “Want me to walk you out?”
“No, I got it. Just keep Willy in here. I’ll text you when I make it out alive. If you don’t hear from me, just assume your father murdered me,” he jokes, leaning down to give you a kiss after he slips his shoes on. “See you back here in an hour?”
“Yes, please be early. And clean shaven.”
“Yes ma’am. And don’t insult me,” he mumbles against your lips.
“Nervous?”
“Not nearly as nervous as I will be if I get caught, sweetheart. Gotta go so I have time to shower—and shave. See you in a bit.”
He gives you one last kiss before he departs, and you move to the window with Wilbur to watch him slink across the backyard, arms crossed and a fond grin on your face. He turns and blows you one last kiss before he disappears around the side of your house.
“Y/n, can I speak to you for a second?”
Your dad’s voice comes from his study as you pass by, checking yourself over in the entryway mirror one more time. Rafe should be here any minute.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Come sit,” he says, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. You feel the hair stand up on the back of your neck. Your dad only invited you to talk in his study if it was something serious. The last time he did was when he told you he was going to take away your Range Rover if you didn’t pull your Bs up to As your freshman year of college. You’ve had a 4.0 ever since.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes, everything’s fine. Just wanted to talk about the new boyfriend.”
“What about him?”
“I always knew of him while the two of you were growing up. But I talked to him a bit back during Dylan’s grad week.”
As an unruly teenager and the rightful heir to his father's business, everyone in the Outer Banks knew about Rafe and his antics. Good or bad. You could even recall your mom gossiping to your dad, words passed on from Rose, about some of his more... notable incidences.
“Y-yeah, he's...” you trail off, searching for the right words to describe Rafe these days.
“Seems like a good kid,” your dad supplies.
“What did you guys talk about?”
“Business, mostly. His future and whatnot.”
“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”
“No, I just wonder... are you sure about this one? When you were kids, that boy was always causing trouble. And you know your mother and I were always so proud of how you stayed in line.”
“I know,” you sigh. “But Rafe’s not a boy anymore. Just give him a chance.”
“I will,” your dad says, slapping his knees to stand up. “But I'm also gonna give him a hard time.”
“Dad, please.”
“It’s my job. Your mom gets to freak out about Dylan moving out, and I get to handle scaring every man who gets to look at you.”
The doorbell rings.
“Please. I am literally begging.”
Your dad draws a fake halo around his head, and you just roll your eyes.
The morning gets off to an even more embarrassing start as soon as Rafe crosses the threshold into your house. Wilbur jumps into his arms immediately, all ninety pounds of him, and your mom’s eyes widen.
“My goodness, he’s usually so hesitant around strangers!”
Dylan chokes on a laugh, and if you weren’t across the room you’d have elbowed him in the ribs.
“Oh, I’ve walked Wilbur by Tanneyhill before.”
“Yeah, I-I love Willy. Mrs. Y/l/n, it’s so nice to see you again,” Rafe says, effortlessly following your lead after Wilbur scampers out of his hold. He shakes your mom’s hand politely. Your dad sidles up to her then, fixing Rafe with a stare harder than you’d prefer. “Mr. Y/l/n, you as well. Thanks again, to both of you, for inviting me.”
“Good to see you, Rafe,” your dad says, a strong hand clamping onto his shoulder. “Dylan, come say hi.”
Dylan’s grin is devilish, and you're just watching on in pure horror at this point. “How have you been, Rafe? Haven’t seen you in a while.”
Rafe’s grinning ear to ear, hand firm on your thigh, all of the windows in his truck rolled down. He even popped the sun roof, letting you blast your playlist all the way down the road.
“Okay—I just... did that go well?”
“You did great, Rafe.”
Despite Dylan's best efforts to embarrass you two, brunch had gone really well. Your dad took a second to let his guard down, unlike your mother who was immediately gushing over him. You could practically see the wheels in her head turning, the wedding colors she'd picked for you. And your dad came around quick enough once Rafe brought up Formula 1.
Your boyfriend looks so relieved, hand even coming to feel the air pass through his fingers as he hangs his arm out the window, hand on your thigh coming back up to steady the wheel. He taps on it excitedly.
“Lowkey, feel like I nailed it, baby.”
“Okay,” you giggle, leaning over to peck his check. You pull him in with a soft hand to the other side of his face. “Let’s not get too big for our britches.”
“Oh, I’m a parent-meeting expert now. Might go into consulting.”
“You’ve perfected the sport?” you joke.
“No, no. That’s—I’ve never actually met parents before,” he admits.
“No way?”
“Way? Have you?” he asks, slight edge seeping into his tone as he pulls up to the stoplight outside of your favorite coffee spot.
“Uh... once. We weren’t even really dating yet, but they came to visit and he like, ambushed me with them at dinner. They were kinda hippies, though.”
“Yeah?” His tone is clipped as he parks his truck.
“Yeah, some guy from my comparative literature class sophomore year,” you sigh. “But, you’re the first to meet my parents.”
“Mm,” he hums, fingers tapping on your knee. That satisfies him. He gathers one of your hands in his. “You coming in?”
“Will you just get me a latte? Kinda wanna call my mom and debrief.”
He laughs, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll give you a minute, sweetheart. Oat milk?”
Your original plans to meet the Camerons fell through, a last minute staging emergency arising when you were all supposed to go for dinner. You’d tried not to look down while Rafe attempted in earnest to cheer you up, telling you how pretty you looked while you took out your earrings and let your hair down. He'd kissed the crown of your hair and apologized profusely, promising they would love you when they finally got to meet you.
“M’not upset.”
“Okay.” His hand stroked your back through the thick cotton of one of his old water polo sweatshirts he’d let you borrow for the night.
“I’m just really nervous about meeting them. You might’ve set the bar a little too high with my parents.”
“You just have a great family.”
“I don’t know,” you said when you finally cracked a smile. “Made it pretty far on your first try.”
“Don’t worry. They’re going to love you, sweetheart.”
You let him kiss your cheek, your forehead, your nose and chin.
“Hope so.”
“Know so.”
And Rafe had somehow convinced your father to let you go to Midsummers with his family, promising to join up for pictures and greetings later. Your dad had willingly let him, to your surprise.
The event was a big deal to Figure 8 patriarchs and matriarchs alike, always trying to outdo the other in every way, all while feigning some sense of island camaraderie. But when Rafe had set aside time at brunch to specifically ask your family for their permission to accompany you to the event, they’d been hard pressed to say no. Your family immediately accepted Rafe as your boyfriend, any lingering hesitations about his character drowned out by the equal chances of your personal happiness and the heightening of their social and business profiles.
But he’d still come to your house to pick you up, ready to greet your parents in the foyer once again.
He takes one look at you in that blush pink dress, hair, makeup and jewelry all done up this time around, daisy flower crown in place, and flicks his eyes around his surroundings. Your father and Dylan were nowhere in sight, and your mother was busy fixing her earrings in the hall. He takes to your side immediately, a kiss to the side of your head followed by his lips pressing against your ear. “I’m fucking obsessed with you.”
With the high from those words, you ride in his truck to Midsummers, nerves never dissipating no matter how many reassurances he speaks across the summer air streaming in through the vehicle. “Remember, they’re gonna love you.”
He helps you down from his truck so you can focus on keeping your dress off the ground, assuring you for the fiftieth time that Rose is going to like your headpiece.
“Miss Y/l/n, how lovely to see you again you at last,” Ward sighs, sounding somewhat fond. “Rafe’s been talking my ear off about this, meeting you again even though we’ve already met. Sorry we couldn’t make it work earlier.”
“No worries, Mr. Cameron. Thank you so much for inviting me to tag along with your family at Midsummers. You as well, Mrs. Cameron. You look beautiful.”
“Thank you! And of course,” Rose says, bringing you in for a hug, one you definitely were not expecting.“You’re out in California, aren’t you?”
“Yes, home for the summer.”
“That’s a long way from here,” Ward says. His eyes flicker to Rafe. “Long way from Georgia. Shorter, but still a long way.”
“Dad, c’mon,” Rafe cuts in, and you can feel his hand gripping the back of your dress:
“He’s just stating the obvious, Rafe,” Rose intervenes.
“Yeah, it is far,” you agree. Rafe’s head whips around back to you.
“We’re figuring it out,” he says. To anyone else in the vicinity, he probably sounds confident and self assured. But you know Rafe, and you can look into his eyes and see that he’s not. That if he weren’t in front of his entire family, trying earnestly to impress his father, he’d have said: ‘we’re gonna figure it out, right?’
“I’m sure things will work out the way they’re meant to,” Ward says after a lapse in conversation. “One way or another.”
“Let’s get some photos so we can all enter and the two of you can run off,” Rose says immediately after, giving neither of you the time to say anything else.
You do your best to shake off Ward’s comment as the four of you join up with the Cameron daughters, plus Sarah’s boyfriend, John B. After posing for what felt like hours, the photographer asks you and John B to hop out so they can take some family pictures, the two of you swiping up a couple of Old Fashioneds from the bar. You have to assure Rafe twice that you’ll be okay for ten minutes on your own.
“First time meeting Ward?” Sarah’s boyfriend asks, leaned up against the bar like he owns the place.
“Er—of course not,” you say, like it’s obvious. But of course John B knew nothing about Figure 8 social circles. “Just the first time as Rafe’s girlfriend.”
“Yeah, you look nervous,” he admits, chuckling when your mouth drops open. “It’s not too obvious, I just know because—been in your shoes.”
You should be insulted that the teenager compares his and Sarah’s relationship with yours and Rafe’s, but you know he isn’t being malicious. You see nothing but kindness in his eyes. And it’s nice to have somewhat of a teammate in this situation, the two of you standing by while one of the most powerful families in Kildare poses together in their finest outfits.
Rafe looks hot in his grey suit, especially with the pocket square he’d agonized over for weeks before you gifted him one that was hand sewn from the extra material where your dress had been hemmed. Monogrammed, of course.
You’d decided to go with his initials, since it was going to him after all. But your stomach gets fluttery if you think about the expression on his face when he’d received it, telling you that you should’ve put yours on it instead. “That way everyone will know I’m yours.”
Turning back to John B, you can’t imagine how he must have felt the first time he was invited into all of this. It intimidated even you, and you’re pretty sure John B was friends with the boy who delivered your family’s groceries every week.
“Any tips?”
“You’re way better off than I was, first of all,” he laughs. “But he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one. He cares too much about this appearance of a perfect family to make digs in front of an audience.”
You nod. “That’s actually really good advice, John B.”
“Don’t sound so surprised, kook.” He clinks his glass against yours, promptly throwing the entire drink back as you watch and laugh. “That’s another tip. Drink whenever you can.”
“I’m familiar with that one.”
It's intimidating entering the event, a little after everyone else has arrived. Rafe told you that was by design—the Camerons could never be earlier than fashionably late. You always assumed you and Rafe were raised with similar pedigrees, but you're barely through the doors of the event before you realize that's not entirely true. Up until the last millisecond, Rose is fussing with Sarah and Wheezie's gowns, the older daughter making eye contact with you and rolling her eyes at her step-mother's antics. And Ward brushes Rafe's shoulders off more times than you can count, straightening his bow tie for him repeatedly. Rafe just places his hand on your back, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “You ready?”
You smile up at him, but your nerves are firmly settled in at this point. What you reply isn’t completely true. “Of course.”
You take John B’s advice, of course, and choose Kelce as your designated drinking buddy for the night. He was hard to keep up with, but you threw your inhibitions to the wind after you got meeting the Camerons out of the way. Plus, Rafe had more business to attend to than he’d let on, and you were getting pretty bored. Not too long ago he would’ve been right beside the rest of you, causing trouble and borderline embarrassing all of your parents. It was weird to see him walking around, shaking hands and rubbing elbows. He’d invited you into a few conversations, you trying your hardest not to simply watch him in awe.
You’re engaged in some strange dance battle with Kelce when he stacks his drink into yours, both empties at this point. “Your turn to get a round.”
“Boo,” you sigh, throwing your head back. “What d’you want?”
“Surprise me.”
“Aye aye.”
You’re turning on a shaky high heel, and you have to give yourself a little mental pep talk to straighten up. Of course you can, though.
“What can I get you, miss?” the barkeep asks.
“Vodka press, Tito’s, and a Jack and coke. Double Jack. Actually—single. Thanks,” you murmur, trying to fish a ten out of your clutch.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got the tip for this one,” a voice says next to you. Ward Cameron is sidling up next to you, sliding a fifty across the counter. Your eyes widen at the tip, trying not to be embarrassed as the bartender sets the drinks down in front of you.
“Oh, thank you, Mr. Cameron.”
“Ah, call me Ward.” He flicks his eyes back to the bartender, who quickly pockets the tip and makes himself scarce to give the two of you some privacy. You can’t help but think of John B’s warning: ‘he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one.’ There’s no point in even trying seek out Rafe, you knowing full well you’re expected to stay rooted to the spot until Ward dismisses you. “Having a good time?”
“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s always fun to come back out here for this.”
“So, California to Georgia,” he whistles. “That’s probably a five hour flight, at least.”
“Yeah, um,” you take a minute to make sure your flower crown is perfectly in place. “It’s actually two.”
“Excuse me?”
“Two flights. From his school to mine. Rafe checked, he said there’s nothing direct,” you clarify.
Ward let’s out an indifferent chuckle. “Of course he did.”
Your eyebrow furrows because you don’t know what to say, turning to look at where your drinks are starting to melt. Kelce would be wondering where you are by now if he wasn’t three sheets to the wind. And where the hell was Rafe?
“Y/n, as far as I can tell, you are a nice girl. I just need to make sure we’re on the same page about one thing.”
Your heartbeat that hadn’t really settled since Ward approached you is picking up again, and you really wish Rafe had been the least bit more concerned about where you were at this moment.
“Um, I-I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”
“I'm don’t know how serious you two are, Y/n, but I know my son. He's clearly very invested in pursuing you.”
Your resolve crumbles a little at that, your heart warming, thinking about Ward noticing something like that.
“But Rafe needs to be committed to finishing this degree so he can come home and start learning the ropes next year. And in four years, Sarah will do the same. Then Louisa after her.”
“Wow, that’s so lucky for you—that they all want to go into the family business,” you praise, not really knowing what else to say. It must be the wrong thing, because Ward just quirks an eyebrow.
“In this family, our business will always come first. Before anything and anyone else. Do you see what I’m getting at?”
You swallow, catching on to where this is going for the first time. You still go for playing dumb.
“Ward, I really don't think I understand.”
“But you do, don't you? You know Rafe. He’s a bit emotional, he’s a ‘feeler,’” Ward says sarcastically, putting it in air quotes. All of the niceties you experienced earlier when you first greeted Rafe’s family were long gone. You can only gather that it was all an act for Rafe’s benefit. But you know the only option is to sit there and take it. “He thinks with his heart, never enough with his head. Sarah, for example—when it’s time for her to cut that pogue lose, which it will be soon enough, I know she will. Whether it’s my decision or her’s. I can count on that, because she’s just like me in that respect; she knows we have to make sacrifices. But Rafe—I don’t think I can make that same assumption about him.”
“Ward, with all due respect, Rafe is really focused on the business.”
“You're correct, and I’ve worked hard to get him there. Which is why I can't have him spending his senior year of college, when he should be buckled down, traveling back and forth from California and getting distracted from his future by some girl.”
“Mr. Cameron, I would never—”
“You know that it’s true. I can tell you’re bright. You come from a great family.” It’s a compliment and an insult all at once. He likes you because of your father’s business and your mother’s social status, not because of what you do for Rafe, or what you have to show for yourself. He continues like it was nothing but the highest praise. “But right now, you are across the country from him, and I can bet he’s determined to make that work, no matter what it takes. Which I obviously can’t have,” Ward sighs. “It’s just not the right time. You can understand that, can't you?”
You nod numbly and pick up your drinks, hoping he’ll get the signal to wrap this up soon. You’re at the point where you can’t listen to this anymore, liquid courage re-flooding your veins.
“I’m not asking you to stay away from him, because you’re both adults,” Ward says, stopping you with a hand on your shoulder. “But I’m asking you to think long and hard about what’s best for the both of you. Rafe already knows what’s expected of him. He’s always known.”
You look back towards the crowd under the gazebo, able to make out John B of all people. He sees you talking to Ward, shooting you the most subtle thumbs up he can muster. He has no idea. You don’t take the chance to nod at him, turning back to the bar.
“Say the two of you let it go for the school year,” Ward bulldozes, taking a step closer to you. “And you end up back here too, great. But even then Rafe’s going to be working all the time, the longest hours he ever will in his life. For the next few years, Y/n. You’re so young—are you really going to tie yourself down to a commitment like that? What about your future?”
In a tone you hope comes across as confident, you say, “I really appreciate your concern, Ward.”
Ward's perfectly white teeth are pulling into an even more perfect grin, and the sight makes you sick.
“Great. I'm glad we had this talk.” He pats you on the back, leaving first before you get the chance to.
You just shuffle through the crowd numbly, not even reacting when someone steps on your toe, taking it all in stride as you seek the comfort of your friends once again.
You were foolish to think Ward would warm up to you immediately, or at all. You had been way too confident in yourself, especially after witnessing the wear working for his father had on Rafe. ‘He’s not an easy man to please.’ How could you be so naive, thinking you could coast by on your charm?
You’re a few feet away when you notice that Topper had joined up with Kelce again, as had your boyfriend. He’s joking with them, amused at the way Topper is clearly almost done tolerating Kelce’s drunken antics, but you stand and watch for a bit as he scans the crowd, gaze flickering toward the bar you’d just been at. You realize he’s looking for you when he finally spots you, his face relaxing as the two of you make eye contact.
“There you are.” He pulls you in close, kissing your forehead. You want to cry. “Where’d you run off to? One of those for me?”
He’s gesturing to the drinks you’re holding, reaching for the darker of the two. But Kelce is swooping in, snatching it out of your hold quickly. “Nope,” he pops the ‘p.’ “This one’s all mine. Sorry Cameron. Thanks Y/n/n.”
Rafe just rolls his eyes at the two of you, eyes lingering on your face when he notices your fallen expression. He sets your other drink down on the high top table you’re all standing next to, pulling you in by your hips. “You okay?”
If you had a choice right now, about how to proceed with telling or not telling Rafe about what had just happened, your instincts compel you to bypass the decision process altogether; you paint a careful smile on your face, shaking your head slightly. “Yeah, all good. Just zoned out for a sec.”
He isn’t convinced. “Tired?”
“Maybe a little. Kinda drunk. Are we leaving soon?” you ask, melting into him. It’s a lot easier to handle his tone of voice when you don’t have to look him directly in the eye.
“I vote yes,” Topper says, gesturing towards Kelce, who is somehow sucking down his new drink at an alarming pace while continuing to dance to the oldies tunes they play at these things. “Like, right now. Rafe, you’re hanging back right?”
You look back up at your boyfriend in confusion. “You’re not coming with us?”
He bite his lip in contemplation, looking around the party. The twinkly lights reflect off of his pupils, making him look starry-eyed as he surveys the crowd. A sea of opportunities to prove himself to his father. Rafe looks resolved when he turns back to you.
“Well... I was gonna stay, wrap up some stuff,” he explains. His eyes flicker across your face, still not pleased with your expression. “But that’s okay, I’m good to go now.”
“No, Rafe,” you say immediately. You take a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders and painting on a smile that comes easily with years of experience at parties like this. “Stay, I’ll go ahead. How long will you be?”
“An hour, tops. Will you take her?” Rafe looks hesitant, still taking your green light anyway, already slowly extracting himself from your hold, Topper rolling his eyes but nodding and beginning to corral Kelce toward the exit.
“I can’t believe you’re making me babysit two of them.”
“Don’t let her drink too much.”
“Hey,” you protest, pushing him in his chest half heartedly. The push barely does anything, only proving your impaired motor skills further. Or that you're dating a tree. “What are you, a cop?”
“I’m your boyfriend, actually.”
“Really? When did that happen?” you decide to play along, picking up your drink again.
“‘Bout a month ago, Y/l/n,” he says softly. He can see right through you, can tell you're putting on a show for all of your friends but you're still not okay. You have to break eye contact.
“Hmm, for some reason I thought you were just this guy from middle school.”
“At least this time nobody spilled on your dress,” he teases half-heartedly, and the memory only hurts you more. “Not sure I’d wanna sacrifice this one.”
“Can you—you guys are the worst. Focus. We need to go now, before Kelce gets his entire family blacklisted from the club. You coming or not, Y/n/n?” Topper begs.
You’re nodding, leaning up to give Rafe one last kiss before you leave. He holds you close to him with a firm hand on your back, voice dropping to a whisper right next to your ear. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
The lump in your throat is growing, but you push through, lowering yourself back down to your feet as soon as you can. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Focus on the rest of your night.”
Rafe still looks unsure, his hand resting on the nape of your neck as he kisses your forehead. “Y/n—”
“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” you finally admit. Rafe nods curtly, can tell you’re not going to let him leave with you right now. But he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know that if you pull him away from his responsibilities right after that talk you had with Ward, it’s going to spell disaster for the two of you.
“Just some business stuff, alright?” he assures you. “I’ll see you soon. Forty-five minutes.”
“Promise?” you murmur, fiddling with his pocket square. He smiles down at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“Promise. You look so pretty. Half an hour. Now go.”
Topper’s guiding you towards the parking lot with a polite hand on your back, but you have to watch Rafe as you leave. You watch him approach his dad, who gives him a smile and a pat on the back. Rafe preens under his gaze.
But Ward must have been watching you two from afar because his gaze is flickering back to you, and he fixes you with a hard stare. He raises his eyebrows, bringing his drink to his lips. Taking a leisurely sip, hint of a smirk on his face. You can practically hear his thoughts: ‘Rafe chose to stay here with me, with the business, and sent you off with his friends.’ It’s everything in you to not let the tears that have been building on your waterline spill over. But your friend isn’t easily fooled.
“Y’alright, Y/n?” Topper says from beside you, trusting Kelce enough to walk on his own as you all near the parking lot. He moves to follow your gaze but you stop him, quickening your pace towards his gray Jeep. “Did something happen?”
“Ward Cameron happened.”
———
tags: @moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids
717 notes · View notes
shurisneakers · 3 years
Text
harmless (iv)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)
Warnings: cursing, guns, mention of war, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader
Word count: 1.5k
A/N: good evening i’ve never been to any of the places i mention in this series so dont come @ me
if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them 
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
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Previous Part || Series Masterlist
He spends the weekend doing nothing. It’s supposed to be relaxing. He finds it nauseatingly boring.
“No mini mission this week?” Steve asks him from across the couch. 
They’re supposed to be catching up on Star Wars but two prequels in and Bucky could feel himself lose his sanity. Anyone could present him with a random assortment of alphabets, call it a Star Wars species and he would have no reason not to believe them.
It’s not like he doesn’t like space. It’s just that he’s had enough of it and everything and everyone who came from it for the foreseeable future.
“No. Someone else is taking care of it.”
“Didn’t you volunteer for this?”
“I pulled myself out of the case.”
“I thought you were having fun.” 
Bucky’s head slowly turns to look at him. “Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. “Looked like you were.”
Well, he wasn’t. He likes it here at home, glued to the TV. Popcorn beside him, sweatpants on. Refreshing, calming, slow, mundane, and Jesus Christ, so fucking boring-
His spiralling is interrupted by the dinging of the elevator to the common floor. No one was allowed up there unless it was extremely urgent. Guests were barely allowed into the Tower as it was. 
It reveals the receptionist from downstairs, Marie. She’s always a little reserved, a little shy. But Bucky had seen her chew and spit out trespassers or anyone who dared to get on her nerve. He adores her.
“Hey, Marie,” Steve says while Bucky sends her a friendly wave in greeting. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a hostage situation downtown,” she informs them. 
“Okay...” Steve drawls, waiting for a reason why this was an Avengers level threat.
“They’ve asked for Mr. Barnes by name.” She makes a mention towards him.
Bucky sits up straight. Bits of popcorn fall off his chest. 
“What?”
“They said, and I quote-” she looks down at her notepad. “‘Tell that grumpy motherfucker that I’m waiting for him and that he’s not getting out of this so easily because we have come too far.’ End quote. They’ve also told me to include a kissing emoji. And a skull.”
Steve and he look at each other.
“Well?” Steve prods. 
Bucky sighs and gets up to go get ready.
The entrance of Chuck E. Cheese is more crowded than he’d ever seen. He wasn’t even sure he’d seen people in the store before. If there were, they probably only came up till his waist. 
There are a few journalists, a few policemen standing together outside. Whispers of confusion and curiosity reigned free. 
Bucky gently pushes his way to the front. He gets a nod from a police officer who opens the door for him after a quick briefing. 
The place is darker than it usually would be. A trademark, it seemed. The blinds are drawn shut and most of the light is coming through whatever sneaks in through the crack. 
“Hey, Barnes.” Your voice is muffled by a mask that looks suspiciously like it was made out of classroom craft supplies.
There’s a person in a loose chokehold in your hand with a gun pressed against his head. Once again it looks straight out of a cartoon, purple with round disks lining its barrel. 
“What’s all this now?” He gestures around monotonously. 
“A hostage situation. Didn’t you get the memo?”
“Got that part down, genius,” he bites back. “But why?”
“Fucker kept harassing me when I was walkin’ down the street.” 
The guy’s helpless gaze met Bucky. 
“Catcalling me, stalking me.” You tighten the grip you have on him. “Call me darlin’ one more time, you son of a bitch. I dare you.”
He wasn’t impressed with his pleading eyes. He kinda felt like he deserved it. 
“Why’d you do it here?” The bright colours were starting to give him a heading. “And where are the staff?”
“It’s symbolic, Bucky,” you emphasise, “He deserves to be among other rat bastards.”
Of course.
“The staff?” he asks again. 
“Gave them thirty bucks and told them to leave. I’m not a monster.”
“Right.” He doesn’t bother refuting you. “Why’d you call me here?”
“Dunno.” You shrug. “Thought it’d be fun. You having fun yet?”
You shake the guy you’re holding. He gives a small whimper. 
Bucky doesn’t want to stop you. He had chugged enough Respect Juice in his lifetime to know that this guy probably deserved a threat or two.
Hell, he’d even help but you were more than capable of handling this on your own.
“Listen,” he sighed. “As much as I’m sure he deserves it, this is technically illegal and I’m required to stop you.”
“Sorry sarge, I thought you weren’t interested in playing this stupid game with me,” you mock, voice dropping to imitate him.
“I’m not.” It wasn’t entirely true. One Saturday with Jar Jar Binks had convinced him otherwise.
“Okay, so before you leave, do me a favour and call Hawkeye. I hear he looks mighty fine when he’s annoyed.”
His face involuntarily scrunched up. You were going to replace him with Clint? Clint?
He probably took it more as an insult than he should have.
“I’m not doing that.” Bless his foul mouthed friend, but he was a little shit who was too sarcastic for his own good. At least twice a week he’d say something stupid to Bucky and then take out his hearing aids when he tried to argue back. 
“You’re leavin’ me with no options here,” you groaned, using your thumb to flip a switch. The gun looks like it powered up, lights along the side turning red.
If he let you have this, it’d be a bad look for the Avengers.
New York man dies in Chuck E. Cheese lone hostage situation, unable to be saved by same superhero who tried to fight Thanos with a machine gun.
“Tell ya what,” he says instead, “If you kill him, there won’t even be a slight chance that you’ll see me again.”
Your grip on the gun falters.
“If I let him go...”
“I might consider coming back next week.” He’s trying to spin it, make it look like he’s the one with the upper hand here. “But you gotta let him go.”
You search his face for any signs of dishonesty.
“Let him go or you’ll never see me again.” It sounds too much like Clint’s arguments with his dog who brought a live squirrel into the house. 
“Fine,” you relent, a glint in your eye. “but say goodbye to this fuckface.”
Before Bucky can open his mouth to shout in protest, you pull the trigger. The man clenches his eyes shut, face red.
He expects blood to be splatter across his face.
Nothing happens.
A barrage of bubbles floats into the room.
“I meant it literally,” you say, pushing him off you. “Say goodbye. He’s leaving.”
The man stumbles to the ground and Bucky doesn’t make any attempt to catch him. He scrambles to his knees, picking himself up and scurrying out the door to a hoard of reporters.
The door shuts behind him with the chime of a bell.
“You’re annoying,” Bucky states, giving a small sigh.
“I’m well aware of that.” You pull off the mask, wiping the sweat off your brow.
“Where is the agent assigned to your case?” 
“Dunno. Last I saw he was crying on the driveway of my lair. I just figured he’d pick himself up later so I left him there.”
Bucky’s nose twitches. 
“You weren’t actually going to kill him, were you.” He shrugs with his shoulder towards the door. It wasn’t a question, more a statement. He knew you wouldn’t. 
“I could have.”
“But you weren’t going to,” he repeats. 
“No,” you admit. “I wasn’t. But I’m glad to see you showed up.”
“You held someone hostage as leverage.”
“No, no. I held someone hostage and then asked to see you. They were completely unrelated.”
“You’re evil.”
“You jumped to conclusions,” you point out. “Would you like a trampoline next time? Maybe a pogo stick, you clown?”
He has a very real gun in his holster. His very real metal death arm aches to use it. 
“No one else agreed to come,” he deflects. 
“We both know that’s a lie. You were going to come back anyway.” You stuff the bubble gun back into the bag. “I’m deliciously irresistible.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Then beg.” You give him a smirk and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, you win this round, sarge.”
He doesn’t say anything. He watches you remove your heist gear, revealing normal civilian clothes underneath.
You walk casually to the kitchen, intending to leave through the back door.
“But I can’t say I lost either.” You send him a wink before swiftly pushing open the door and leaving him behind.
He only watches you leave.
It doesn’t hit him until a few seconds later that he let a criminal out of his hands when there were several policemen and journalists outside.
He entertains the idea of chasing you down and handing you over. 
It takes him only a few seconds to decide that if they wanted you, they’d have to try themselves.
Next part 
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beneathstarryskies · 3 years
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I sincerely loved that Madara SFW post (even though I wasn't the one who requested it) 🥰🥰 I'm really just... curious about either Itachi's or Indra's SFW habits 👀 would it be possible to have that alphabet post on either one (of your choice, of course!) Thank you so muuuuch!!!
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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Itachi is very affectionate in private, but not so much in public. In public he will always hold your hand, and soothe his thumb along your knuckles. That’s as far as it goes though, he’ll be a blushing mess if you kiss him in public. When you’re together at home, he will kiss you sweetly every chance he gets. He always wants to have his hands on you somehow. Itachi loves playing with your hair and nuzzling into it to (discreetly) sniff you.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Itachi would be a very good best friend, but he’s definitely the best friend who won’t admit that’s what’s going on. He acts like it’s just a coincidence that he’s always the first person to offer support when you need help or that he wants to hang out a lot. He’ll get a bit embarrassed when someone points out the closeness between you.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
There’s nothing he loves more than holding you in his arms. He’s not even picky about the position. He will just pull you as close as he can in whatever position is comfy for you both, usually hooking his legs around your to keep you close.
He prefers to be the big spoon because he likes to feel protective of you. However, at times he wants to be held close. He’ll curl up against your chest, and might accidentally let out a purring sound if you start playing with his hair.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Itachi loves the idea of settling down, and certainly daydreams about it a lot. He’s just not super invested in the idea, because he doesn’t see why anyone would want to settle down with him with his past. That being said, he’d make an excellent husband. He cooks and cleans, and is very good at it. Most of the time he’ll take care of all the chores without you asking, and if you express feeling guilty he’ll give some vague reply like “it’s the least I could do.”
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Itachi is at his core a very kind man, but he’s also pragmatic. He’ll break things off as smoothly as possible, going above and beyond to spare your feelings. He doesn’t want you to despair too much over him.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Itachi has no issue at all with commitment. He is more than open to being with you for the rest of his life, but he would keep those feelings close to his chest. Itachi would want to play it safe, especially at first. He’d likely have those strong feelings for you very early on (because nobody simps like an Uchiha.)
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Itachi is extremely gentle with you, especially physically. Sometimes when he reaches out to touch you, it’s as though he’s scared you’ll break or disappear like a mirage. He gets better with this as you become more comfortable with your relationship, but he’s always going to maintain a certain tenderness.
Emotionally, he’s similarly careful in how he handles you. Although at times when he tries to offer advice, he can come off as harsh. He’ll always make sure you know these aren’t his intentions. Usually he is right in his advice.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Itachi gives very warm, intimate hugs. One hand will rest on your lower back while the other is between your shoulders. His face will nuzzle against you. You can literally feel him just relax in your arms. He loves hugs, and wants them a lot.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
He’s going to want to say it very quickly, but he’ll keep it to himself for a long time. Definitely Itachi would develop a deep love for you very quickly. He’s gonna wait for you to say it first, most likely.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Itachi isn’t a very jealous person. He wouldn’t be with you if he didn’t trust you implicitly. Sometimes if he feels insecure, it can present itself as jealousy. He’ll get to thinking about how you deserve someone with less emotional baggage, and then maybe see you with a friend and it just burns him up inside. As soon as you look at him and your eyes light up with love and adoration, he’ll forget all about it though.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Itachi is a very slow, precise, but very passionate kisser. Every kiss on your mouth is an attempt to channel all of his feelings for you through the gesture. He is very prone to kissing you anywhere his lips can reach. His favorite place to kiss you (besides your lips) is your forehead or temple. Just a sweet kiss to remind you that he’s there for you always. When holding his hand, he’ll often lift your hand to kiss your hand, sometimes even taking the time to kiss each of your fingertips.
Itachi likes being kissed anywhere. He’s just so grateful for your love, but is also a little bit needy. He wants to be peppered in kisses everywhere. His lips, his whole face, chest, hands, all of it. He just craves affection.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
A little awkward at first, but he warms up pretty quickly. He is very careful with children and treats them with a lot of gentleness. He doesn’t want to repeat the mistakes he made with Sasuke.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Itachi is always going to be awake first. If it’s not too early in the morning, he’ll usually curl himself into you for some lazy snuggles. He’ll wake you up by peppering soft kisses on your face.
If he wakes up very early (maybe because of a nightmare) he’ll usually sneak away. He’ll have coffee and breakfast ready for you when he wakes up. The two of you will talk over breakfast, sometimes he’ll tell you about what has him up so early. Usually, he prefers to listen to you talk about what your plans are for the day.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Itachi adores quiet nights with you. He’s happy just to be around you even if you’re both doing your own things. He likes to lay on the sofa with his head in your lap while he reads, and your fingers twirl through his hair while you either read along with him or watch television.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
It will take Itachi a while to reveal things about himself. He wants to know he can trust you completely before he begins opening up to you. That being said he will take his time revealing things to you. Preferring to open up a little at a time so as to not bog you down with too much at once.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
He’s not very easily angered, especially not with you. Itachi is more likely to pull the whole “not mad, but disappointed.” If he is angry with you, he does tend to fall into the silent treatment. Not so much as a way to punish you, rather to avoid saying things he might regret.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Itachi remembers everything.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
The first time you kissed him. It was sort of out of the blue. When you pulled away your cheeks were so flushed and your eyes were blown so wide while you stammered out an apology. He just pulls you back in for another kiss, because he finally knew that you cared for him as much as he did you.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
He is very protective, and would die for you without question. However, he doesn’t want you protecting him. He would never allow you to put yourself in harm’s way for him.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
He would put a lot of effort into planning out romantic dates to celebrate special occasions. He will be as extravagant as possible for every single date, anniversary, and birthday. But Itachi is also in it for everyday things as well. You truly are partners in life.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Itachi’s worst habit is drawing into himself when he feels overwhelmed or depressed. He’ll pull away from you and isolate himself. Sometimes even recoiling if you try to reach out. He requires a lot of patience and understanding with this.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
He’s not overly vain about anything except his hair. He takes very good care of it, and is very proud of how healthy it is.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Absolutely. Itachi felt so hopeless before you came into his life. The thought of losing you is enough to drive him insane.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Itachi is a wonderful cook, and loves to prepare meals for you. He also sees it as a way of taking care of you, and he is very nurturing.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Itachi likes things being clean and tidy. He wouldn’t like the house being overly messy. He will happily help you keep things clean if you’re not good at it.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Itachi has terrible sleep habits. He often will go long periods without sleep to avoid his nightmares, and then when he does finally sleep he just crashes anywhere out of exhaustion. You’ve found him a lot on the couch or even sitting at the kitchen table with his head down.
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Text
"Kent v Linebacker" -Ted Lasso
Roy's knee is fucked. This is well known.
His fucking monster child, who he loves, accidentally fucks it up more. Such is life.
Part 2 // Accompanying AU
WORDS: 2631
XXX
Their first son is “built like a linebacker,” according to Ted Lasso. Roy shows his usual disdain at the reference to the wrong type of football, but Keeley wearily agrees- she was, after all, the one who carried then delivered their 10-pound baby.
Most people see their son and suggest rugby instead of football, even as they pile tiny Kent jerseys and footballs onto the new parents. Roy insists he doesn’t give a damn if their child wants to play rugby or football or join the damn chess club, but he also tears up the first time Keeley puts him in a tiny (or maybe just small) Richmond jersey.
Because of the way Roy and Keeley are, they balance each other out. Marriage and parenthood come to them relatively smoothly, save for typical growing pains and bumps in the road. But they figure it out, at least for the most part.
One of the more persistent bumps is Roy’s knee. Because, while he was forced to walk away from playing football, Roy is reluctant to accept other limitations. He’ll run or dance or carry around the baby’s new crib, and then swear and pop his knee back into place as needed. Doctors eventually find this out and inform him that this is, in fact, bad. Roy Kent tells them to fuck off. He doesn’t echo this sentiment when Keeley suggests that they’re right.
Because, as usual, she seems to have a point. It doesn’t always take a miles-long Christmas day walk or a rom-com style sprint to Ted Lasso to fuck up Roy’s knee. Somedays, it’s going down the stairs one too many times. Or standing up long enough to make Keeley a fancy dinner. Or jumping around in the coaches’ box after a Richmond win. So Roy concedes this matter, and anyway, he doesn’t particularly enjoy moving his kneecap around or Phoebe’s and Keeley’s face when he does so.
Roy scales back, reluctantly and unhappily. He does modified yoga with the moms and they suggest stretches to help him. Roy doesn’t push himself nearly as much, and so the pain in his daily life decreases.
Then Roy becomes a father, and then his son becomes a toddler.
Oliver is a fucking ray of sunshine. He’s inherited Keeley’s bubbly personality, something evident from his first dazzling smile and the peals of laughter that soon follow. When he starts to talk, he does so incessantly, and he puts every ounce of his energy into babbling and running literal circles around his parents. Even Keeley- even Ted Lasso, occasional babysitter- struggle to keep up. But Roy and Keeley and the Richmond team do their level best to entertain and supervise him, and it works.
Then, because they’re fucking daft, Roy and Keeley decide they want another fucking monster to turn their lives all upside down.
Oliver is three when they tell him he’s going to be a big brother. He’s overjoyed, then he cries, then he’s comforted, then he’s overjoyed again. Roy is the happiest he’s ever fucking been with his son, and Keeley pregnant, and then life comes along and fucks it all up again.
Father and son are just home from preschool, Oliver restarting his long-winded recap of his day when he sees Keeley. Roy hobbles through the door behind him, grinning at Keeley for half a second. She beams back at him, then returns her attention to their child, brows furrowing as she tries to decipher his somewhat senseless story.
Roy’s standing by Keeley’s side, hand on her shoulder as they listen the best they can. Oliver reaches a part of his tale that’s especially exciting- something about cupcakes and a classmate’s birthday, and he gives a shout, then springs up with his arms spread wide, and-
-forty pounds of force collide with Roy’s bad leg. He hears Keely gasp, which is what registers first, then his vision goes white as pain overtakes him, and he feels himself falling.
He opens his eyes a moment later, and Keeley is crouching at his side awkwardly, the swell of her stomach hindering her. Oliver gives a noise that indicates he’s probably about to cry, and Roy shushes him through a groan.
“Fuck,” Roy says, his voice strained. “I’m okay.”
Keeley purses her lips, which indicates she’s well aware of his lie, but she draws Oliver against her side, rubbing circles into his back as she takes Roy’s hand.
“It hasn’t been this bad before, has it?”
Roy shakes his head. “I think I’m fucked,” he confesses, trying to keep the uncertainty and pain out of his words.
“ER fucked?”
“Fuck no.”
“Can you get up, Roy?” Keeley would sound impatient if not for the way her tone wavers. Roy shifts, babying his leg, and Keeley watches as he winces, cringes, and swears again.
Keeley whispers something to Oliver, and he sniffs loudly before scampering off into the kitchen. His wife stands, unsteady and off-balance, and reaches down to help him. Roy uses only his left leg to rise, trying not to knock Keeley over, and he staggers before grabbing the back of the couch to steady himself. Keeley holds onto his elbow and guides him around so he can sit.
“I’m fucked,” Roy reiterates, and this time, Keeley just nods.
-
In the end, there’s no ER visit- just a few pulled strings to get Roy into the doctor the next day. Rebecca stops by to deliver crutches and a few bottles of painkillers once Keeley realizes that Roy can’t get to the bathroom- or anywhere else, for that matter- on his own. More reluctantly, Ted is called, and he promises to give Oliver the “best darn sleepover since the movie Sleepover.” Roy isn’t particularly keen on Ted being privy to this particular moment of weakness, but Ted leaves with Oliver quickly enough, and Keeley’s pretty sure that even just a few minutes of exposure to Ted is enough to force some positivity into Roy’s outlook, and for that, she’s grateful.
Roy sleeps on the couch that night, as stairs are out of the question. Even if he could manage to struggle up them, he can only imagine coming back down via a painful fall. He’s alone, too, because, despite Keeley’s protests, he’s not about to let his pregnant wife sleep anywhere but a proper bed.
He lies awake long after kissing and texting Keeley goodnight, and he contemplates the quiet of the house and the apparent severity of the situation. The doctor had wanted Roy to come in today, but she didn’t throw a fit when he insisted he could wait. Instead, he’ll see her tomorrow, first thing, and Ted will take his son to school, and Keeley and Roy will both miss work for Roy’s least-favorite type of doctor’s appointment.
-
“You dislocated your kneecap again,” Doctor Patel explains, gesturing to an x-ray of a very fucked up knee. “The first time, you twisted it.” She points to a slightly less fucked up x-ray. “But continually dislocating your knee weakened the ligaments. So, when Oliver collided with you, your ACL and meniscus tore completely.”
“That’s why it hurt so damn much.”
Patel nods, then sighs. “You mentioned chronic pain worsening over time- you did everything right, trying to keep it at bay, but this- along with additional trauma- can worsen a knee injury.”
Roy grunts. He expected as much. The first doctor he saw after his final match had warned of this, along with things like arthritis and all sorts of complications. His main worry was that his football career was over, and there was nothing he could do about that, so any accompanying outcomes seemed unimportant.
He was wrong, apparently.
“It’s not unusual for these injuries to get worse over time. Especially when you’re not gentle with yourself. But, your symptoms are indicative of severe tearing. I’m also worried about nerve damage.”
“So what do we do now?”
Keeley is the one who asks, gripping Roy’s hand. He glances at her, then squeezes her hand.
Patel hesitates. Roy likes this doctor- her knowledge and honesty have been extremely comforting to both him and Keeley over the years. She doesn’t take bullshit, not even Roy’s, and he appreciates that about her.
But it’s unusual for her to hesitate.
“I believe our best option is open knee surgery,” she says, and her eyes soften when Roy’s jaw clenches. “There are other routes we can pursue, but we’re at a point where they may not be as effective.
“What are they?”
“We can do more tests and try an arthroscopic surgery or other minimally invasive options, but-”
Roy tunes her out. He’s the last football player of his generation- he’s seen everyone he played with at the beginning of his career retire, and the various injuries that forced this fate upon his fellow footballers. Open knee surgery is a big fucking deal. Especially since he’s not a fucking grandma.
“It’s a long fucking recovery time,” Roy says finally.
A nod.
“We have a baby due in three months.” This time, Keeley squeezes Roy’s hand.
“If all goes well, you’ll be walking unassisted by then. Enough for midnight diaper changes, so long as you don’t sprint into the nursery.”
“And it’ll work best?”
“I can say with reasonable confidence that your case is severe enough to warrant this surgery, and that the other surgeries aren’t typically successful in similar cases.”
“Fuck. Let’s do it.”
-
They schedule surgery for a few days later, which is a quick turnaround, but it’s enough time for two Richmond matches to take place. The first falls on the day after Roy’s doctor visit, and the second one is the day of the surgery. This gives him pause- Roy’s first and longest love is football, and he’s loath to step away, even for a week. But he thinks of Oliver, hesitant to hug his father when they get home, and Keeley, sneaking glances at him as if expecting him to break when she’s not looking.
Roy trudges- or limps- forward. He stays home for the first Richmond match and tries to ignore Keeley scrolling through Twitter with a worried look on her face. They had debated what would be worse- to miss the match with no explanation, or for Roy to show up on crutches and in obvious pain. In the end, the desire for privacy (and maybe easing Roy’s discomfort) won out, and Keeley and Roy and Oliver watch the match from their living room. Roy and Oliver shout at the TV, and Keeley livetweets, and it’s okay until the post-match conference.
“Coach Lasso! Roy Kent was missing from the coaches’ box tonight. Can you explain why? Has there been a professional change or has something personal occurred?”
Ted holds up a hand, stemming the reporter’s flow of questions. He smiles at her easily, but Roy knows that no matter what Ted says, there’ll be speculation. A nonanswer is still an answer, but they decided as a team to keep the public in the dark as long as possible, to maintain any privacy Roy has.
“Roy and his family are jus’ fine, thank you. As far as I know, Roy hasn’t decided to leave our coaching team, so we’re all good there.” Ted clears his throat, and Roy wonders if his mentor is uncomfortable telling half-truths to the press. “Roy needed some personal time away, but I expect you’ll be seeing him back again shortly. Thanks.”
“Well, that wasn’t complete shit,” Roy muses in near-approval. Keeley hums noncommittally.
“No,” she agrees, pleased. “And I livetweeted the whole thing so nobody thinks one of us is dying.”
“Perfect,” Roy says, satisfied. So long as they don’t get hounded on the way to the hospital. He looks down at his lap, where Oliver is curled against him, fast asleep. Roy moves slightly so that he can wrap his arm around his son, and sighs.
Keeley looks up at them and grins as she takes in the sight. “Look at my boys,” she says softly, and Roy’s heart melts just a little.
-
Surgery goes well, and Roy leaves the hospital the same day. His memories of the event and the hours after are fuzzy, but Keeley informs him that he watched the Richmond match while the anesthetic wore off, and proceeded to shout an absolutely incomprehensible mix of words and swears at the TV. Richmond lost, but it was hard fought, and it’s days later when Keeley confesses to Roy that he actually cried once the final result was clear. Roy would be less concerned by this if he could remember it at all, but at the same time, he’s reassured that his plan of being totally unaffected by major surgery and attending the match in person didn’t pan out.
Roy quickly decides he’s utterly useless on crutches, instead letting Oliver expend his energy by fetching things like water and painkillers and phone chargers for his dad. There’s plenty for him to do; Oliver thrives with given purpose, and under the extra attention Roy has to spare. He hates being unable to carry his son, but he can still cuddle with him, and draw with him, and even though Keeley is burdened with bathing and chasing after Oliver, Roy can still fucking help here and there. Like telling Oliver to eat his broccoli or clean up his shit, because vegetables are fucking important and his son isn’t a slob.
His return to Richmond is less smooth. He doesn’t want anybody’s fucking pity, least of all from the boys on the team, or from Ted Fucking Lasso, but instead of the fearful reactions Roy’s used to, Roy’s treated with a gentleness he absolutely fucking despises. Nobody wants to push back against his heightened grumpiness (a side effect of knee surgery is that it fucking hurts and this makes Roy very unhappy), and Ted somehow feels obligated to hang back with him as he limps up to the field each day. His fellow coach also launches into several tirades about his and Beard’s and his great uncle Roger’s various injuries over the years, and Roy ends his first week back feeling, unfortunately, closer to all three men, including the one he’s never fucking met in the first place.
Keeley’s made sure to officially announce that he’s had surgery, explaining away his absence and all the speculation that went with it. The press will likely hound him anyways, but Roy already has his response planned (“Fuck off!”).
The crowd cheers him during their next match. He hobbles slowly behind the rest of the coaches, using one crutch even though he really should be using both, swearing under his breath at the soft terrain and his shit balance and fucking kneecaps for being so fragile in the first place. Keeley would say all this support is sweet, and he catches a glimpse of her beaming at him from the stands, Oliver bouncing on her lap, and the agony and humiliation dulls.
Richmond plays a great fucking game. It’s not their best match ever, but they win and celebrate accordingly. Roy makes his excuses earlier than usual; he knows he’s put Keeley through the wringer in the past week, and Oliver keeps rubbing his eyes, and there’s nothing more that Roy wants than to read his son a fairytale then cuddle with his wife in bed.
So they go home, and do exactly that.
Roy’s last thought before he drifts off that night, having tucked Oliver into bed and kissed Keeley quite thoroughly, is of how fucking perfect his life is. And, although he echoes that thought many more times, one of the more poignant occurrences is when his daughter is born, and he holds her in his arms for the first time.
Yeah. Pretty fucking perfect.
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withoneheadlight · 3 years
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ok i saw this cap of zoë kravitz in hf and she's got such a dreamy expression, she looks so deeply self-absorbed and infatuated by whatever she's imagining and those lines. and i couldn't stop picturing billy exactly like that for days so,
,
There’s a pretty unusual sound coming off the house when Max comes back home, that summer afternoon.
Full volume. Walls shaking. And she quietly walks to the source of the sound, holding back her breath right in front of Billy's room because, there's this second sound? Stranger and way more unsettling and Max's not sure-sure at first but then Steve Perry’s voice takes off and Billy’s follows it and then he's like, singing along and. Well. Max did know Billy liked Journey but not like, their 'stuff for pussies' but uhm, he does, apparently. Rasps his voice all the way through ‘Faithfully’. Kind of, sighs. Longingly? When it ends? But pfff, ok, big brothers are weird. Definitely weirder after being possessed and then kind of resurrected. Even if it's in a good-weird way but, whatever. So Max's just about to sneak to her room, dutifully rolling her eyes, steps muffled by the first chords of 'Edge of the blade' when―
Click. Click. Billy stops the tape. Click. Takes it out. Tap. Tap. Click. Puts on― Billy puts. On,
Heaven.
Bryan Adams’ Heaven.
And Max―
Being a younger sister is a meticulous kind of full-time, private detective job. You gotta learn how the person you’ve been watching so carefully for years and years works. Hafta develop some sort of―sense about your target. And Billy’s been—un-Billy-like? These past two months. Smiling more. Telling more jokes. Playing ‘You shook me all night long’ in a loop on their drive to school and back, not complaining at all but even joining when’s Max who can’t help but sing along so.
So. She retraces her steps. Knocks. Takes the distracted grunt she gets as a ‘Yeahyeah, c’mon in c’mon in’ and,
Creak. Creak. ‘―baby you’re all that I want’
“Billy?”
Billy’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. Radio close to his knees. Cassettes scattered everywhere. Piles and piles of breakwater surrounding Billy’s old, rusty beacon of sound. He’s reading through the song-list of one of the tapes, a smoke locked on the corner of his mouth, bouncing up and down with every little, absent suck he takes, and he looks. He looks―
Self-absorbed and even. Relaxed. Happy. Like whatever he’s thinking about right now is actually carrying his thoughts away to fucking heaven.
“Ehh”
“Uh-hu?”
‘When you’re lying here in my arms!’
“Billy are you. What―” ‘I'm findin' it hard to believe. We're in heaven’ “What are you doing?”
But there’s this orbit around the sun and then there’s whatever one Billy's been spinning along with the last couple of months so he completely ignores her question. Shakes the tape on his left hand. Picks another one from the pile on his right. Asks her.
“Is Billy Ocean too much? ‘Cause I think it’s too much. But it kind of fits into what I'm trying to say so” he says, shrugs, looking up at Max and waiting for the answer of what she realizes was not really a question. Not at all. So she does her little sister job and just, nods “Right. That’s good. I think it’ll slide just nicely into Bruce Springsteen and―”
“Billy” Max insists, waiting for the charm of the third time to work. It doesn’t. Not really. But keeps Billy's eyes on her long enough to squeeze an “A mixtape?” And, uh. That’s what gets it on. The charm “Are you making a mixtape?”
“Uh?”
And it’s like Max just shook Billy out of a daydream. Ash plopping down from his cigarette as his lips try but can’t purse and Max― she’s good. She’s stellar at this detective thing. Recognizes an opening the moment she sees it, right there in front of her, frozen in the middle of shaking Billy Ocean and Bruce Springsteen in the air right before cocktailing them together. Shaken, not stirred, please. Max’s upgraded to James Bond-level just right now.
“You’re making a mixtape for someone”
“Oh-nonoMaxi―”
“But you didn’t have those tapes before. Not even in your secret stash”
“How do yo―?”
“Holy. ShIT. You’ve been listening to somebody else’s music” This is. Oh, God. This. Is. GOLD. Max gotta take a moment. Blink. Breathe. Process. Her hands move by themselves, palms spread toward Billy in a wait-a-minute kind of gesture except. Max’s gonna need way more than a minute for this “You’ve accepted a music recommendation”
“Maaaaax”
“Gosh, you’ve even listened to the tapes enough to. Make―”
“Max!”
“I just can’t believe it”
And Max was glad. Well. As glad as one can be. Bunch weeks ago. Her mom and Neil out for the day. Coming back home a little earlier than she usually does to hear those ugh. Those other noises. Happy screams. Again. After months and months of Billy being basically alone except for her and the party and Steve. And Max’s so glad, of course she is. But she’s also a little sister. And all this investigation work has a high, rightful purpose.
Make her big brother’s life a living. Hell.
“Oh my god, you must be so gone!” Max brings her hands to her mouth. Takes a deep, deep breath that’s more a poorly restrained giggle. Shoots her index at him “Is it Bon Jovi? What I’m seeing right there? Goddam, Billy are you in lo―”
Bam.
Bam. Bam!
The front door.
What a way to spoil the fun. Max doesn’t have time for this. She’s working.
“BILLY?” comes a voice from the other side “Billy are you in there?”
Steve.
Oh.
What a way to make the fun a hundred times better.
Bam.Bam.Bam!
She’s starting to move to get to the door, sinsonging “Well, I guess Steve’s gonna find out you’re so stupid in love you’re willingly listening to―” when she realizes Billy’s eyes have widened and he’s jerkingly trying to unfreeze, he’s mumbling something in around his already extinguished cigarette in the ways of “Can’t” and “Find out” and “Surprise” and “Fucking help me!” While literally trying to shove the huge mass of tapes under his bed, his tone like hurryhurryhurry!, like he would start gagging and throwing his lungs out at any given minute, so nervous he looks.
So Max doesn’t go for the door. Yet. She basks in the enjoyment.
“Oh, is it a secret romance or something?” She sighs happily, leaning against the doorframe instead. “‘Cause you look pretty worried”
Steve’s banging the door now, voice wavering a little as he asks-shouts “Billy? Billy answer me! Hey, bab―Are you ok?”
“Max, please” Billy begs. Begs. Crawling over to where a Madonna’s Like a virgin is laying with the tape looping slightly out “He really can’t find out”
“What? That you’re in lo-o-oh-oh-OH―”
Billy stops at the tone, right there on his knees. Spits his forgotten cig to the side. And in the instant it seems to take him to make up his mind they both can hear Steve shout “Ok. I know you’re in there!. I’m coming in now!!”
“Fuck! Yeah. I am. Ok?” he looks like he just realized he’s tripped. Blushes. “Making it, I mean”
BAM!
And Ohhhhhhh.
Zero-fucking-zero-fucking-seven.
“Steve,” Max gasps. Because. Hear it makes it like. Easier. To process “You. And Steve”
B A M!
“Yeah, Max, Yeah. And this is a fucking surprise and he’s gonna―”
‘I've been waitin' for so long. For somethin' to arrive. For love to come along’
Ok. Oh. Okok.
“Door!” Max hastens him.
“What?”
“You. Door. Run!” She commands, and Billy― sometimes Max can’t honestly understand how he's got the grades he's got, because Billy blinks, looks clueless “C’mon slow ass. Hurry! I’ll hide all this shit”
And Billy finally gets it. Nods. Slow. Then fast. Stumbles up. Literally runs, to get to the door.
Max still gets to hear his labored “Fuck, pretty boy. “That was really hardcore of you. That's how bad you wanted to see me?” And Steve's own breathless “Really?” Before pushing Billy's room door close with her back, and kneeling on the floor to check for stray, incriminating cassettes.
Pretty boy. Maybe Max isn't as clever as she thought she is. Or hasn’t been doing her job right, clearly.
It's when she’s making ‘It’s a kind of magic’ disappear into the rest of the pile that she lays eyes on it. The case. The J-card written almost all the way down to the B-side already. A mixture of songs Billy's heard so many times there are parts where his tapes screech, and others she'd bet her life he wouldn’t have deigned to listen to. Not ever. Definitely not because―no, for, somebody. Bowie and Cher and Cindy Lauper and Bob Seger right next to Metallica and Guns n' Roses and Meatloaf and― there. There. Almost hidden in the back of the spine. A note. A tiny, thin-lettered thing Max really, really shouldn't be reading but―
‘Thanks for driving me back.
Love. Billy’
But. That's what little sisters do too, she guesses. Intrude. Annoy. Snoop. Feel this sudden rush of relief. Of happiness. When Billy laughs softly, on the other side of the door. When Steve laughs back. Maybe a tear. Or two. But just maybe. She’s really good at this little sister thing, after all.
Hopes for stellar.
,
or: that post s3 where steve lets a camaro-less billy drive him around in his own car "really? again, hargrove?" almost every single day, for months, after he comes back, because "you’re gonna perpetually stick yourself to my ass at least let me do the one thing that frikin’ calms me down" which results in steve resigning himself to deejaying in the shotgun even if "jesus, what's that shit, harrington?" "my car, my rules, sweetheart" which results in billy developing a ‘songs steve harrington is in love with’ mental playlist, realizing he’s probably a little bit in love with the way he loves them and, possibly, a little much love with steve and then stealing steve's tapes one day and,
making a mixtape about it.
(the first of a whole lot, of love letters)
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writing-in-april · 3 years
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My Date with the President’s Daughter
Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Spencer POV)
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Summary: Spencer has a date with the President’s daughter, who he’s been dating for a while in partial secret. He hasn’t seen her in person for a while so he’s had to settle for another form of communication.
A/N: Ok just to get this out of the way— this is not a politically charged fic, I don’t express my own political beliefs in this fic nor do I express my opinion on the beliefs of others. The president in this fic is entirely made up and I just thought it would be cool to release it on Inauguration Day like the nerd I am. I do not want a political debate in the comments, this blog is not meant for that. This fic is for fun and to make people a little happier in these trying times. Please respect my wishes. This was a really fun way to write a twist on Spencer dating someone famous and- I wonder if anyone can spot the West Wing reference I used 🤔Thanks to @spencers-dria again for always helping me out with my fics 🥰This is also apart of my unlinked fic series called Spencer Reid & Letters! Requests are open and thank you for reading!
Warning: Vague political talk, References to keeping their relationship secret earlier, Avoiding the paparazzi- that should be it.
Main Masterlist Spencer Reid & Letters Word count: 1.6k
She didn’t have to put her short little letter to me on the back of a postcard, but she always did it this way. I remember when she first told me why she did it. We were sitting cuddled up on my couch at the early start of our relationship. I had asked her why she always insisted she send her letters on the back of a tiny card, she would’ve had so much more room if she got out a piece of paper.
She said she got into the habit of sending them to her father whenever he was away on business. Her handwriting had been horrible as a child according to her and her father had suggested she try to fit all of her thoughts onto a postcard. So, now she sent all of her letters neatly handwritten with the smallest of letters, so small you could almost barely read them, on the back of a postcard.
The postcard I had gotten late today, delivered by one of the last people on duty this late at night, was a picturesque view of the White House. The grass bright green and the outside covered in pure crisp white, a statuesque image of American democracy. Now, she didn’t send this to me because she wanted to express her political views and patriotism in a postcard, it just so happened to be where her father lived.
The fact that she was the President’s daughter used to intimidate me a lot when I first met her. I hadn’t immediately connected the dots in my head that she was the first daughter when we first met, though I could tell I had seen her somewhere before. Though, my first assumption was that maybe she had been a regular at my favorite coffee shop, not the daughter to the President of the United States. Literally my biggest boss.
First time I met him was also my first time in the east wing; she had some help from her secret service detail to sneak me in through the back. I only ever nervously stutter when I’m in intimidating or stressful situations and I’m pretty sure I barely got a sentence out the first ten minutes after I had met him. Luckily, he did seem to like me, though I’m not really sure why. Y/N told me once it was because he found my intelligence extraordinary and my constant willingness to share facts endearing. I always blush when I remember that, she was always so sweet to me and the fact that her family loved me as well caused my heart to swell exponentially. I stared at the captured view for a few seconds longer before the dots had fully connected in my head, I may have an eidetic memory, but sometimes it took me a minute to get her subtle hints. She didn’t actually live at the White House, she had her own house in D.C. But, this postcard meant one thing. She’s home.
Each postcard she sent me had a picture of wherever she was while she was traveling the world, it was a small gesture that made me feel closer to her, I always tried to imagine I was there with her at every location she sent. She had been out of the country for at least a month on business and even before that we hadn’t seen each other for a while, I had been stuck on a long case that kept me away from her for half a month.
A month and a half, that’s how long it's been since I’ve had her in my arms. I turned over the card expecting to see it filled with more words than most people would think could fit on the back of a postcard to let me know when I could see her, but this was not the case. Instead, the back of the card contained less words than normal. Only the words- meet me at 10pm at our usual spot.
My body moved faster than my brain, getting up to pack up all my things to rush to our usual spot. My watch sat over my cardigan sleeve on my wrist and it blinked up at me letting me know I only had 30 minutes till I had to get to the other side of town.I still had some paperwork left, but enough that I could push it off till the next day. Once I had gotten all my stuff together I scurried over to leave through the glass doors.
“Are you heading home, Spence?” A voice from inside the bullpen called out startling me out of my thoughts, I had thought everyone had left for the night. I turned around to look at the owner of the voice, JJ, who had come back from the break room to finish her large stack of paperwork that still remained.
“Actually no- I have a date.” A small shy smile made its way onto my face, I still felt very shy when I talked about my relationship with the team. When I had first told them after around 8 months into our relationship, they had thought I was pulling their legs. Once they did realize that I was in fact, not bullshitting them as Morgan had suspected, the questions had immediately come down on me. The ogling at my relationship never really ceased in the months after it had come out to the team, and the rest of the world. We mostly still tried to keep it under wraps, but the fact that the press now knew about me after some photos got leaked from a date only made the team ogle even more.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to who you go on dates with, it’s like something out of a movie.” JJ joked, then yawning again and leaning her face into her palms. “Well- I still have a lot of paperwork to do, you go enjoy your night, Spencer. I know you haven’t seen her in a while.”
My mind had already begun to shift away from JJ as soon as she brought her up, I was practically vibrating in anticipation, I couldn’t wait to see her.
—-
The rare book store on the east side of Quantico had been my favorite for years, ever since I had moved out here from Vegas actually. So much so that the owners, an older couple named Margaret and Dan, both knew me by name and knew almost exactly what books I wanted every time. The both of them had immediately jumped at the chance when I had hesitantly asked them to let the both of us meet up here, I had been desperately trying to find a place outside of my apartment where we could meet up.
When I entered the shop through the back it was already deserted just for us, she must have contacted Maggie and Dan to ask them if we could have the store for the night. The store was packed full of the rare books the owners had both acquired over the years, ranging from old tales and poems written by Edgar Allan Poe, the dark brother’s Grimm tales, to almost any old book that you could think of. It was almost to the point where I thought maybe Maggie and Dan should upgrade to a bigger shop.
“Long time no see.” A voice piped up from the mostly dark corner where she sat in a dark green armchair only partially illuminated by a standing lamp. Broad grins broke out on both of our faces before we both ran to each other, engulfing ourselves into an overwhelming bear hug.
“I missed you so much you don't even know.” Tears prickled at the edge of my eyes, though I wasn’t afraid to admit that us being apart for so long made me tear up.
“I've got a pretty good idea, I missed you so much as well.” She sniffed and then sighed into the crook of my neck. I moved my hand up to cradle her head to try and bring her as close as possible to me, even though there was already not even an inch of space between the two of us.
A nagging thought was dancing around in my brain, the card was so short and abrupt. It wasn’t like her to not be long winded whenever she wrote to me, she even had a tendency to be worse than I was sometimes.
“Why was the card so short? You feeling ok?”
“I just couldn’t wait to see you… It’s been so long since I’ve seen you...” Her tone of voice made me sad, it had been so lonely for me as well when we were apart.  “I never want to be away from you for that long ever again.”
“Move in with me.” The words blurted out of my mouth before I could really think about my words. I didn’t care whether it would be feasible or not, I just knew I never wanted us to be apart for so long ever again.
“Well-“ I cringed a little at her words sensing a rejection, I worried that I had just screwed it all up by asking. However, again she surprised me, “We might need to get a new place to settle my father’s worries about security.”
I breathed out a breathy laugh of relief at her words, enveloping her into a bruising kiss, my worry and anxiety immediately melting away. I couldn’t wait for the next chapter of my life with the President’s daughter.
—-
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