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me-uglypretty · 1 year

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Calling my first

Pairing: Jess Thayer x F!Reader

Summary: Jess finds herself in a mess, and the first call she makes is one she has avoided for years or where she finally confess to her true love.

Warning: 18+ (G), past angst, fluff, mention of death stripper | 3385 Words

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The perfect bachelorette doesn’t exist.

It surely doesn’t, right?

Someone is bound to spew drunken words at another or falling face first on brittle ground. A little chaos here and there. The usual amount assisted by alcohol, most often fixable, just normal celebration things. But this specific bachelorette, joined by close friends and hosted specially for Jess—a murderous disaster in the making.

“There’s a dead body!”

He was a stripper. Booked online by Frankie, after Blair’s drunken idea of surprising their soon to be married friend. Alice was truly enjoying herself at that trivial moment. If Jess didn’t want him, then she would happily immerse herself in an attractive man. Till the rushed occasion pushes the man over, falling on back from the chair and leaving a bloody mess on the ground. Pippa mumbled something about a dream while the rest lose their sanity over the bloody scene.

It takes them various tries to solve the matter. A call with a lawyer, fail attempts in disposing the body, pretending to stay calm while clearly appearing more tense than before. And never forgetting Blair’s taking the biggest step for the team by sleeping with their neighbours. For the fucking tape of which security camera doesn’t function.

But worse of all—after the horrid argument between Jess and Alice, such a disaster to witness two friends argue about their friendship—was the faux officers threatening their life. The television outed their criminal status, alongside the dead stripper which isn’t a stripper.

Basically, they were harbouring the body of a known criminal while facing the possible death of their own.

Jess wasn’t aware of the developing chaos downstairs. She was too preoccupied bathing herself in guilt and shielding that with the reason to make herself presentable for her first mugshot. Giving up was the easier thing she had ever done. Her dreams flushed down the drain. Never to meet reality ever again.

A friends’ gateway slash bachelorette became a professing disaster. If not death, a friendship surely met its end. And the taunting feeling in her chest that her decision might cause the downfall of everything.

Not entirely on the dead body mocking their freedom. Though, that was just as bad.

But the sheer reminder that she was to marry Peter.

A loveable man and he’s just too kind for his own good.

Jess couldn’t utter negativity about him because he was perfect. Always readily falling on his knees for her, perching up to hear every word that fell from her mouth, changing his entire schedule around for her, and his life—seems to only revolve around Jess.

As if, she was God and the religion which he forever promises his devotion.

And the nagging sound prodding the back of her head.

Sweet laughter surfacing, glimmering eyes luring her in, hands so smooth to touch, words that sticks to her mind, and twirls around her heart—of you, so beautiful you, so sweet, so lovely, so caring, and so everything that she wish for.

“Stop thinking about someone who isn’t your future husband,” Jess grumbled to herself. “It’s not right. That’s— it’s cheating, isn’t it?” she helplessly stares into her reflection, expecting an answer to appear on the cloudy mirror.

Jess thought of you first, when the idea of bachelorette was proposed.

Miami was the last location you mumbled to her—as she sinfully moaned your name, when your fingers enter her so proficiently, and her eyes shutting close, clutching your body as she feels the familiar warmth resurfacing below her stomach. You knew her body far better than she does sometimes, and you proudly declare, all arrogant with a twinkle of mischief in your eyes.

The chance of studying abroad awarded her vast experience, meeting new friends, embarking on the search for her future, learning of cultures different from hers, and you; someone she kept in secret.

You were hers to name, simply everything she needed in that young age of discovering life, while you held her close to your head. Cruising together in a land that neither knew, but it was perfect that way. A thrilling chill of unknowing.

A week before she left Australia, you promised her something.

Confession of love spilling from your mouth, helpless and honest. The promise to stay by her side, wherever that may be. Miami was your family’s dream, as you had said countless of times before. But your heart yearns for something else, and you knew her heart pulse for the same.

Jess was a coward then, a coward still, and she hated to admit it.

Before allowing your promise to fully engulf her whole, she left you gaping at the empty space across the table. Missed dates followed. The loving glance across the room was ignored. She pushed you advances to know why she acted so differently.

It was simply her head’s doing, she’d excused.

A cowardly reaction.

Afraid of what others may say. Afraid of her friends’ reaction to her sudden declaration. Lies fed into her thoughts by her own doing. In the last graze of honesty, Jess was afraid of falling in love and promising her life to someone as wonderful as you. She was afraid of running the blossoming joy in her heart caused by you. She was afraid of never coming close to what you had given her, and you may realise her love was nothing—and leave her first.

So, she made the decision for you, and left instead.

Sometimes, the thought of you flickers in her mind when she lays in bed or when she sees something hilarious at work that only you would understand. An inside joke so precious to be known by two.

She thinks that true love was Peter too or is Peter. Hope swelling the ring in her finger for that to be true.

“I’m a fuck up! Yup, that’s me!”

It takes another round of curses to spew from her mouth before her eyes fell on the grey landline by the bed. An old phone which missed their eyes. She stands still, wrapping in a bright pink bathrobe, glossy eyes at the verge of spilling unforgiving tears and her hands trembles.

Jess waited, she thought of things, her friends and you, then she quickly strides to the phone. Her hand grasping grey plastic. The beeping line reassured her of it’s function. Her mind works on auto as she dials the number buzzing a storm in her mind. For the most miracle reason, the ringing begins to inform her that the person was just there waiting to answer her call.

Suddenly, silence emits after a click was heard. Jess wanted to wail into the plastic phone and threw it away.

“Hello?”

But she hears a voice, hallow and round, and everything she dreamed of. Her heart swelled, halting for the sheer seconds that her eyes shut closed.

“Hello? Another prank calls. I’m hanging up.”

That sound of finality wakes her completely. “Please don’t hang up.”

She hears the sharp intake of breath. Perhaps, you were there, staring at her with your loving eyes, grasping her hand in your own and whispering beautiful things to her ears, laughing so loud as she pulls you into her embrace.

Jess doesn’t think she had ever felt as alive than when she was with you.

“Jess?” you whispered, voice sounding afraid than angry at her for leaving you.

She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry for leaving you. I didn’t know what to do— I was so scared. I’m sorry for leaving you and hurting you.”

The apology was stewing for years. Still jumbled over another, trying to rush every word that probs her mind and kept locked in her heart before the end came.

“I should had told you. I promise. I haven’t stop thinking about you. When I work, I have this distant memory of you pulling me away and twirling me around. Remember the song you used to sing? You were horrible. But I love it because it was you! Now, I’m supposed to get married and I love him, I do. Peter is great….” She paused, trying to steady her breathing before continuing. “When I have good news, there’s a voice in my head that urges me to call you and tell you everything! Not my friends or Peter. Not anyone else. I’m so close to getting accused of murder and I’m still thinking about you kissing me to shut up from rambling and stressing out and—"

Then, Jess starts crying. The really ugly and noisy kind of crying.

Wallowing in self-pity seems so easy. Chances missed because she was afraid. It takes every strain of strength in her to not propose her love for you. The same love that was still pulsing her chest, in her heart where you reside, and she doesn’t think that a love like that could ever happen again. Not with Peter or anyone else.

It has always been you.

“What murder?” you interrupted her sobs.

Jess hears the rustling sound of papers in the background. A door shutting close with a thud then a click.

“Who’s murder, Jess?”

“Just some stripper,” she answered shortly. “I’m sorry for leaving you! I just— I’m so fucking…”

“Jess!”

She shakes her head, trying to resolve herself from weeping into a phone and sounding far worse than she was. “I’m okay. I’m fine. I might had ruined my friendship…you remember sweet Alice? Everything is a mess. There’s a dead body to add into the mix! I would never win the election now, but I would be cheering in prison. Do you think they have politics in prison? Maybe I’ll join a gang there and make it work.”

“Can you shut up for a second?!”

Jess immediately shuts her mouth. Cheeks glistering with tears and chest aching for the very reason leading to this moment.

“Explain to me what happened exactly. I don’t want to know anything else.”

And she obediently listens.

The seriousness in your voice emits a kind of authority on her body that she sits on the bed, crossing her legs and pressing the phone entirely too harsh against the side of her face. Why was she thinking of your voice so heavenly like? Each intake of breath, the hums, and the groans, was making her forget the horrific situation she had landed herself into.

“Give me your address,” you ordered.

An answer messily spills from her mouth, but she knew you’d find your way to her regardless of how far.

“Don’t do anything else or say anything to anyone. Just take a deep breath and think happy thoughts, yeah? You’re going to get out of this mess and win state senate. Everything will be perfect.”

Jess nods her head groggily, “Everything will be fine.”

The conversation ends with an extend beep. While Jess clings on the landline, before placing it down and wandering into the bathroom. Everything should be fine, she muttered to herself like a prayer

A card placed directly in the middle of a gift basket made for her, catches her attention and when she does read it, realisation dawn on just how much she had missed out. Everything that was made to perfection or some extend of that, was Alice’s pure dedication. Her best friend. And she ruined that relationship. Like how she ruined the love she shared with you.

“I’m going to fix this.”

A crash resounded outside her room. It caters her attention forward. The pink bathrobe tugging closer around her body as she walks toward the noise.

The sight she saw wasn’t what she anticipated. Her group of friends were tied against their will, and two man circling them, pointing their hazardous guns at them. The stripper—the alive one, the same man who’s recognisable based on what’s upright between his legs—for whatever reason, he was in between the disastrous scene and still under dressed.

Jess bends her knees, shielding herself from being seen behind the concrete barricade. What she could make out was a conversation regarding something that was stolen from them. Threats spilling from their angered self on harming her friends. She quietly slips back into her room as the sound of heavy studs rushes her further.

Once the door for her bedroom was pushed open, Jess hide behind it and quickly acted on her instinct. A canister held tightly in her hand as she sprays at the intruder’s face. It happened so abruptly that the next second, she was holding the heavy weapon directly at the man. The gun nearly slipping from her hand.

But she felt warm hand enclosing around hers. Hot breath tickling her neck, then pressing a gentle kiss on her skin. Your voice soothing her from falling apart.

“Don’t make a fucking sound or I will kill you!” she warned sternly, her voice trembling at the edge.

Jess pushes herself down memory lane. She recalls how you aided her, teaching her how to correctly hold the deadly weapon, your feet nudging her legs apart to have a sturdy stand. You whispered your instructions. Proposing ways to defend herself properly. Hands shamelessly touching her skin with the reason of teaching her.

But her mind was submerged from the sheer addictive touch of yours and voice luring her into your body.

You were truly something else. A force that made her feel alive, strong, and so powerful.

Determination leads her forward. The man cuffed beneath the sink and his mouth sealed with a wax strip. Jess takes careful steps outside, returning behind the concrete barricade. Her head peak from behind till Alice notice her. They tried communicating a plan as the second intruder grumbles about his missing partner.

Jess takes a deep breath. Counting down to three before jumping over the concrete barricade and seamlessly landing on the man. Gasps and groans reach her ears. Shock distracting her for a moment, then she felt the man’s struggle to remove her from him.

It was life changing—pushing a man down the ground, ruthlessly punching him and now allowing him the chance of a great escape. The expensive and heavy ornament smash between his legs when he tried chocking her. Victory buzzes around her and the familiar click of a gun pointed directly at her.

Fuck, she cursed internally for exceeding her expectations and failing. Disappoint flutter in her chest.

Unexpectedly, the man falls from where he was angrily threatening her. Alice had successfully shot him twice. Excitement buzzes among them. Jess rushes to Alice’s side. Apologies exchanged from both sides, forgiveness yield between friends, and her friend’s lack sense of boundaries.

“Drop the gun!”

Jess groaned, swiftly turning around to the man she had cuffed in the bathroom. The fluffy pink handcuff was dangling from his wrist and his face flushing red. Part of her wanted to laugh at his silly expression, and the other hoping for a miracle to grace them.

And that wish arrived with an abrupt knocking.

The man shifts his attention to the door. He spares a suspicious look at their direction as he takes attentive steps toward the door and pulling it open warily. Curious eyes tries peeking pass his shoulder.

Jess takes the step instead. Her body deliberately pushing her forward, before she stumbled backward as the man’s body falls flat on the ground. There, perfectly angled in the middle of the door, you were standing assertively with your fists pointed forward.

“You’re here!” Jess screamed, rushing toward you and stepping over the man’s body. “You’re fucking here,” she pulls your body flush against hers.

The long-awaited reunion made her heart clenched, your fingers tangled in her hair, bodies coming closer and warmer. Jess inclines back, glossy eyes staring into yours, and her lips trembling. And your eyes swirling with life, easily drawing her into a world painted with you.

Jess ignores her rationality as she presses her lips fervently on yours, her hands grasping your jaw and feeling the texture of your skin beneath her touch. She savours the taste in your mouth, something sweet, something she missed, and something she needed more. The life you pour into her mouth as your hands tugs her head deeper into a yearning kiss.

Behind, Jess’s friends haven’t look away from the scene unfolding in front of them. Though, Pippa was whining about missing out, growing louder as the interest raises. Blair nudges Frankie’s side, both exchanging a bewildered look while Alice stares at them with wide eyes.

“Hey Kiwi, do you know who’s that…” Alice trailed, mouth gape.

“Not exactly…I can’t see!” Pippa sobbed, and the swiftly shimmer to allow the her to see. “Oh, so it’s accurate. There’s always more than two gays in a friend group.”

They murmured about the scene, exchanging shocking expressions and voicing out their thoughts. Each side forcing the other to shimmer around so they could witness their friend kissing a stranger.

“She’s really into it…”

“All that tongue?”

In the distance, a booming sound alerts you and you immediately pushers Jess aside with you. Within the next few seconds, a car crashes through the house’s entrance, almost missing you and Jess. A gasp leaves her mouth as her hands pulls you impossibility closer into her.

“What the fuck?” your confusion strains her with conflict when a man falls out from the driver’s side.

He was wearing a diaper and completely in daze. Mumbling of things you didn’t know or understand.

Pippa released a sound, a mix between excitement and realisation. “I recognise her! They used to scissor.”

Blair was the first gasped. “What? Did you get the vibe?” she slapped Frankie’s arm as the latter shakes her head in response.

“We shall all go scissor one day!”

Alice tense beside them, before contemplating the offer and pulling her arm over Pippa’s shoulder. The rope loosing as the others untie it. “Is that…like an orgy?”

Pippa hastily denied. “Orgy? Never! Scissor is when we cut each other’s hair, yeah? It’s a very fun activity to truly put your trust on another and make the bond better.”

The conversation continues among them. Jess, on the other side, takes caution step towards the man lying on the ground. She identifies him as none other than her future husband.

“Peter? Oh god, are you okay?”

Peter mumbles words of worry, revolving their relationship and the call that didn’t come through. Jess felt genuinely bad for him. The distraught state he was in, the way his eyes can’t seem to focus on her. But her eyes glances away from him to only meet your gaze and her heart tugs toward a path she hasn’t felt in years.

It reaffirms her love for you—far from great than what was shared with Peter.

“I’m sorry Peter. But I can’t marry you.”

Peter cranes his neck trying to comprehend what she had, and he wailed. “No marry me?”

Jess could only muster a decent pat to his head as weep on the ground. She slowly walks back towards you, hesitation flashing in her eyes. Worry swelling in her chest that you may push her away and tell her to leave. You could utter the words of anger that was left to marinate for the perfect moment when you finally see her, so you could spit at her face and leave her heart to break into pieces.

“Heartbroken?” you crossed your arms, nodding your heart toward the crying man.

“Not mine,” she answered. “You?”

You shrugged your shoulder and her hands twitches by her side, just urging to nudge herself forward and press her body flush into yours. The propelling need to touch your skin, to skim her fingers across the curve of your nose then lips—where she wish to plunge herself into you, all of you and only you.

“Depends on what you do next.”

You beckoned her closer.

Jess face glows with a smile, so wide and happy, almost fooling those around into assuming she won the election. Instead, she finally found her way to you. Her body rushing towards yours, a crash that nearly makes you fall but you held onto her as she did the same. Completely submitting her body to whatever the fuck she wants.

But only with you. Always with you.

“Oh, they’re going for the tongue again!”

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