#my stupid ass has been sleeping on air mattresses and little floor couches for years - i grew up with a floor mattress | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

solastia · 5 years

Text

Break My Stride | 3

Pairing: Yoongi x Jungkook

Word Count: 5,640

Summary: Yoongi is an Omega that has managed to escape the annual mating run without an Alpha for seven years in a row. He has no plans for that to change, but he’s unaware of his latest opponent: the newly presented Alpha Jeon Jungkook, his very determined childhood friend.

Warnings: I’m pretty sure most of you are already aware of what was coming up in this chapter, but the smut is here. The usual ABO madness (ya know, the weird stuff. Slick, weird peen growths, dudes that can get knocked up, unrealistic refractory periods). Other than that, nothing too crazy. They whipped. Chapter four will be the last one!

“Jungkook?”

Coming out of the woods was no one other than one of his best friends, although he’d most definitely transformed in the couple weeks he hadn’t seen him. It seemed presenting had changed him physically as well, shooting him up a couple inches so he towered over Yoongi even more than usual. His arms and legs were rippling with muscle that even the black tracksuit he was wearing couldn’t hide. His face was still the same though; the innocent grin an interesting contrast with the buff build.

He actually had to tamp down the flicker of interest that crossed his mind, because Jungkook was still as off-limits to him as he always was since he was one of his best friend’s little brother. Even more so, really, since the other was here to mate with someone.

Yoongi lowered his arm and turned the taser off, furrowing his brow in confusion. He sniffed at the air, realizing the intoxicating scent of lavender, clove, and Alpha was rolling off of the younger man in heady waves. It was so powerful and honestly was making Yoongi a little dizzy. He hadn’t ever smelled an Alpha this strong before.

“You’re an Alpha? What the fuck!”

Jungkook’s smirk widened as he slowly stalked towards Yoongi.

“Prime Alpha. Turns out it’s normal for Primes to present later.”

Yoongi snorts and stuffs the taser in his jacket, finally letting himself loosen up.

“Of course you’re a Prime. Jeon Jungkook has to be perfect at everything, so if he’s going to be an Asshole Alpha, he’ll be a Prime asshole.”

Jungkook giggles and nods towards the dirt burrow. “You should show me your cave, hyung. I’ve always wanted to see it.”

“Is that why you were running after me? Aren’t you supposed to be out chasing down some poor sucker? I heard you had someone in mind. Don’t think they’d like you being sidetracked.”

Jungkook hums and shrugs, silently begging Yoongi like he always did, all big twinkling eyes and bunny smile. And just like he had a million times before, Yoongi gave in like the soft ass bitch he was.

He sighed and dropped to his knees in front of the burrow, glancing back towards the excited Jungkook.

“It’s not too long, but it will probably be tight in a few spots for you now that you look like you snort protein powder. Make sure you let me know if you get stuck or something so I can help.”

“Yes, hyung.”

Yoongi crawls into the dirt tunnel and begins the familiar trek through. Jungkook was following close behind, both of them silent save for the occasional grunt or Jungkook’s usual sniffles. They were about halfway through when Yoongi realizes that he may have made a mistake letting Jungkook be in such a closed up space with him.

That scent of his was potent - the strongest Alpha scent he’d ever been around. He’s been trying to deny that it was doing anything to him, but he was slowly losing that battle. His Omega was practically preening being in the presence of a Prime, relishing the way the Alpha’s scent was wrapped around them like a protective shield. It was screaming at him to present and mate. Thankfully, the scent blocking gel he’d used still seemed to be working. Jungkook wouldn’t be able to scent his growing arousal - or so he thought.

He’d forgotten about a certain Omegan trait until he heard the soft growling coming from behind him. Yoongi froze for a moment, suddenly realizing the back of his pants felt a little damp. He’d been so caught up in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed that he’d begun to leak slick. Not a lot, but enough that the newly presented Alpha behind him was obviously able to scent.

Yoongi dared a quick look behind him, audibly gulping at the sight of the Alpha staring at his ass like he was a starving man at an all you can eat buffet. Jungkook was grinding his jaw and had his nails dug into the dirt like he was trying to control himself. Yoongi decided the best course of action was to continue as silently and quickly as possible so they could both forget this ever happened.

He rushed forward, uncaring of the tree roots and pebbles digging into his hands and knees. When the tunnel began to widen and the musty air of his cave reached him, he breathed a sigh of relief. He slid out of the tunnel and stepped off to the side to brush off his clothes as Jungkook came out, still looking a little ragged but at least he wasn’t trying to jump him.

Yoongi wandered over towards the cooler he’d stashed earlier, pulling out a couple bottles of water. He handed one to Jungkook and drank his own quickly, stashing the bottle away in a bag he’d gotten for trash. Jungkook slowly sipped his as he strolled around the cave, inspecting every nook and cranny.

His stupid Omegan brain was waiting for a sign from the Alpha that he liked all the work that he had put into the place. He’d spent the past week sneaking into the preserve and getting this place ready for him to camp out overnight in, sweeping and making sure it was free of bugs or other critters.

There was now a cooler full of drinks, including beer and soju if he got in the mood. Bags of snacks, a boombox, and an overnight bag filled with clothes and toiletries just in case were against a rock wall. The walls were lined with battery powered fairy lights that he’d had to travel four hours to the big city to obtain. Several candles that he’d scattered around were still going, their subtle lavender scent that had once smelled great to him now seeming stale when compared to Jungkook.

The thing he was most proud of was smack dab in the middle of the cave. Lining the floor were five huge rugs which he placed a huge air mattress on top of. The mattress was covered with twelve blankets and eight pillows, all fluffy and new, arranged perfectly so he’d be able to sink right into the softness. He’d always prided himself on being an excellent nester.

“Wow! This looks amazing. Who knew a cave could be so cozy?” Jungkook raved, his eyes wide as he took in the setup.

Yoongi turned and hid his blush by focusing on pulling all the random crap out of his pockets so he could get comfortable. Jungkook continued poking around in things; picking up a candle to sniff, trying to sneak a peek into the duffle bag, ruffling around in the bag of snacks - all while stealing glances at the bed in the middle of the room.

Jungkook was no stranger to sleeping in the same bed as him, but Yoongi couldn’t be sure that the young Alpha was aware that only mates were allowed in nests. Kook stealing his bed or couch occasionally wasn’t that big of a deal, especially when his scent had been nonexistent as a beta. But this? This was most definitely a nest in the middle of a primitive den, and the thought of Jungkook’s scent saturating the new bedding made him feel...well, things he shouldn’t be feeling.

Yoongi sits on the edge of his nest and kicks his shoes off, flinging them in the general direction of his duffle bag. He rests his arms on top of his thighs, watching Jungkook’s explorations in amusement.

Jungkook is munching on a stolen bag of chips when he walks over to the cooler and peeks inside.

“You got any banana milk, hyung?”

Yoongi snorts. “No. I don’t keep a supply of banana milk for you wherever I go. Grab some water to take with you.”

Jungkook hums noncommittedly and throws the now empty bag away before grabbing a bottle of soju. He unscrews it and takes a massive swig straight from the bottle, smacking his lips and sighing with contentment.

“I didn’t think you liked flavored soju.”

Yoongi shrugs, watching Jungkook curiously. “Grapefruit isn’t too sweet.”

Why the hell was he still here?

Jungkook nods and sets the bottle down slowly, staring right into Yoongi’s eyes as he creeps towards the carpeted area. He stands right there with his toes nearly on top of one of the rugs, nearly in Yoongi’s nest, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“What are you doing, Kook? You’re wasting time here when you should be out there chasing down your mate. They are probably wondering where you are.”

“They know where I am.”

“You told them you were going to hang out with me and they were fine with it?”

“Hyung, you’re usually so smart. Think about it.”

Jungkook smirked as Yoongi studied him, finding amusement in his growing expression of alarm.

“You figure it out, Yoongi? I know you’re aware that I had a crush on you when I was a kid. It never went away - just got stronger. I figured I’d wait until I graduated from the police academy before I tried to court you. Show you I could be a good mate even though I was a Beta.”

“That kind of stuff doesn’t matter to me.”

“I know. It mattered to me though. I wanted to give you everything. Wanted to be a good mate that could take care of you like you deserve. When I presented, I cried I was so happy. Well, after I cried because it hurt like a bitch.”

Yoongi huffed a little laugh, still very overwhelmed. He let Jungkook’s revelation marinate in his head. In the back of his mind, he’d always known about Jungkook’s crush. When he was young, he hadn’t been very shy about it, always following Yoongi around and giving him poems when he was visiting.

He had never really looked at him that way since he’d been so young, but there had been a moment of weakness at Jungkook’s 18th birthday that he’d beaten himself up over ever since. For a moment, Yoongi had seen him as a man, a man that he might want, but he’d ruthlessly squashed it just as quickly as the thought had appeared. He was young, he was Jin’s little brother, he was still bright and innocent as opposed to Yoongi’s admittedly often bitter outlook.

In short, he’d been off limits.

But now he was here essentially offering Yoongi his heart on a platter, and he’d never been more tempted by anything in his life.

Jungkook had always been one of his favorite people, despite their age gap. They were similar in more ways than not and tended to gravitate towards each other when their group was together. Jungkook had long ago gotten Yoongi wrapped around his finger. He already knew that the younger was a good person and would make an amazing mate for someone. Could he possibly be that someone?

He observed Jungkook’s earnest expression, weighing everything in his mind. He had a feeling that he’d possibly been in love with Jungkook this entire damn time, but had just refused to acknowledge it. He pictured a future with Jungkook as his Alpha, Jungkook as the father of his pups, Jungkook living in his house...

Yoongi inhaled sharply, piercing Jungkook with his intense gaze.

“The house...”

Jungkook’s eyes softened, smiling fondly at him. “I bought it for you, hyung. Whether you choose me today or not, it’s yours.”

Yoongi sighed, knowing he was giving in. No other Alpha would ever measure up to what he could have here. This Alpha who’d been there through the hardest moments of Yoongi’s life and stood by him, who sang him to sleep when he had insomnia, who remembered the house that Yoongi loved and bought it for him with apparently no strings attached. He wondered if part of the reason he’d always rejected other Alphas was that he was waiting for Jungkook, in some weird Omega fixation that he’d never acknowledged.

“I’ll admit that I’m flattered and very tempted, but Kook, are you sure you want me? I mean, you could have anyone, especially being a Prime. I’m...well, me. You haven't really gotten out there to explore and -”

Jungkook cuts him off quickly. “Hyung, do you think I’m trying to settle because I don’t know any better or think you’re an easy choice? I’ve had plenty of chances to choose someone else, but I can’t. It’s you, it’s always been you. I’ve loved you since before I even knew what love was.” Jungkook’s eyes are glassy with unshed tears, and Yoongi worries that he might have made him think he was outright rejecting him. He knew Jungkook was super sensitive, but before he could say anything else Jungkook spoke again.

“Also, I already know how you are. You’re trying to use that to scare me away, but I already know that you can be an asshole sometimes. So can I. I know that people take their lives into their hands waking you up. I know that when you’re trying to protect yourself you either lash out or close up completely. I know that your anxiety and self-esteem are shit sometimes and you’ll need a lot of reassurance. I know that you’re scared some Alpha will come along and try to make you feel inferior or change you into someone you aren’t, and I can promise that won't happen with me. I love the way we are now, equals with a little bit of babying me on the side,” Jungkook grins when Yoongi snorts, shaking his head fondly at the other.

Yoongi wasn’t about to admit that he was close to joining the other with some tears of his own.

“Omega,” Jungkook says softly, so rife with emotion that Yoongi can hear everything he’s trying to say in just that one word. “May I enter your nest?”

Yoongi swallows nervously because this is it. This is the moment he should be telling Jungkook to leave, but he doesn’t want to. For once, Yoongi is going to be selfish and take what he wants.

“Yes.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at the whispered acceptance, his smile growing so wide it was blinding. Yoongi watched as Jungkook kicked off his shoes frantically, before turning back to him. He takes a deep breath then steps forward slowly, keeping his eyes on Yoongi to check for any changes as he gets closer to the nest. Yoongi could have told him that he wasn’t going to reject him now - especially not the slutty Omega in his head screaming to present already. However, watching Jungkook be cautious around him was amusing.

Yoongi scooted further into the middle of the nest and waited for Jungkook. When the Alpha finally climbs onto the mattress he releases a relieved breath, making Yoongi laugh.

“I’m not going to bite your face off. Get up here,” Yoongi orders with a chuckle.

Jungkook grins bashfully and crawls the rest of the way without hesitation until they are both cuddled in the middle with both of their heads on the same pillow, facing each other. He tentatively wraps his legs with the others and brings his nose to Yoongi’s neck, only to growl and sit up.

“What’s the matter?” Yoongi asks, terrified that he’d already done something wrong.

“I forgot you’re a dirty cheater for a minute,” Jungkook rolls his eyes and shuffles through his pockets, bringing out a travel sized packet of baby wipes. “I brought these because I knew you were going to try something like that.”

He pulls a couple out and starts wiping Yoongi’s neck free of the descenting salve, reaching a little bit under his collar to get it all, even wiping behind his ears and his wrists. Yoongi’s face was bright red with embarrassment, but he hid behind his smug grin.

“It was a good idea though, right?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t smell anything. Luckily I know what your little grandpa run sounds like, plus you make these cute squeaking sounds.”

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t squeak.”

“You do. It’s adorable, hyung.”

Jungkook smirks down at him as he finishes wiping him, throwing them across the cave before settling back into his former position and burying his nose into Yoongi’s neck.

“Damn,” Jungkook grunted, inhaling deeply. “I knew you would smell good. It’s like...sunshine and happiness.”

Yoongi sputtered, trying to stave off the involuntary shiver caused by Jungkook’s warm breath caressing his gland.

“What kind of cheesy shit are you saying in my own cave?”

Jungkook giggles, nuzzling his nose against the collar.

“Omega? May I remove your collar?”

Jungkook glances up at him with such a look of adoration that Yoongi can hardly breathe.

“Yeah. Go ahead, Alpha.”

He can hear Jungkook’s sharp inhale, no doubt surprised Yoongi of all people had called him that without adding words like ‘asshole’ or ‘jackass.”

Jungkook unclasps the collar almost reverently, gulping as Yoongi’s bare neck is exposed. He shoves the collar into his pocket before glancing up to make sure he still had permission to scent him like this. Yoongi decided to throw the young Alpha into a frenzy instead, smirking as he tilted his neck back in a show of absolute submission.

Jungkook’s Alpha answers the call, rumbling happily as he nuzzles against Yoongi’s gland, huffing and panting against it like he needed Yoongi’s scent to breathe.

They lay there comfortably like that for a while, both of them basking in each other’s scents and letting the fact that this was real soak into their brains.

Finally, Jungkook pulls his head out and scoots up until he’s face to face with Yoongi again. He’s a little alarmed by the determined expression that the Alpha is suddenly sporting, but the fact that he can’t stop staring at Yoongi’s lips gives him a clue as to what he’s thinking.

“You were my first kiss, you know. My only kiss, actually,” Jungkook whispers, throwing an arm across the other’s waist to draw him closer.

“What? You mean that - “ Yoongi sputters, both because of the revelation and because Jungkook’s body against his is rock hard.

“The time I kissed you at my 18th birthday. You thought I was just being drunk and weird, but I meant it.”

“I just assumed you didn’t remember and I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“I remember. You know what else I remember? You kissed me back.”

A blush blooms in Yoongi’s cheeks, because he had. He’d been unable to resist when he’d felt Jungkook’s soft lips against his own. Just like he’d been unable to resist jerking off over the incident for a couple weeks after.

“I...uhh - “

“You should do it again.”

Jungkook’s face was now hovering right over his, his lips so close that he could feel his breath on his face.

“I should?”

“Kiss me, Yoongi,” Jungkook whispers, and he is done for.

He shoots up and smashes his lips against Jungkook’s, not even caring that their teeth had managed to hit each other. He still kisses like Yoongi remembers - desperate and unreserved, like kissing Yoongi was the only thing keeping him alive. Jungkook cradles Yoongi’s cheek and softly moans into his mouth, and Yoongi has never felt so desired in his entire life. Just from a simple kiss.

He can feel himself leaking so much that his pants are probably drenched and taking them off sounds like a great idea.

He pulls away from the kiss and Jungkook whimpers cutely in denial, making Yoongi grin smugly. He laces a hand through Jungkook’s hair and tries to grab his attention. The other meets his gaze, although it’s dazed with a little more than simple arousal, he thinks.

“Jungkook, you good?”

He silently nuzzles against Yoongi’s cheek.

“Kook?”

Still nothing.

“Alpha?”

Jungkook rumbles, huffing a little as he seeks out Yoongi’s gland again.

“Holy shit. Are you scent high right now?” Yoongi laughs as suddenly all of his doubts vanish.

The only way that someone could get scent high was with bonded mates, as it was usually meant as a way for an Omega mate to calm their Alpha. That they weren’t even bonded yet and it affected Jungkook like this was a true testament to how he felt about him. Although, he was sure the fact that the other was still new to scents played a part as well.

“Jungkook. Come on, baby Alpha, I’m sure you’re having a grand time, but you need to sober up a bit before we can do more.”

Jungkook blinks like he’s trying to understand.

“Mate? Mine?”

“Yes, but you need to snap out of it if you want to do something about it.”

Yoongi slaps a hand over his scent gland making the Alpha whine.

“Come on, Kook. Breathe regular air.”

Yoongi waits for a few moments, observing the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks lighten as he pants. Honestly, he looked cute as hell like this and he’d have to let him do it as much as he wants another time, but today he wanted it special.

“Yoongi?” Jungkook’s eyes were still a bit dilated, but he definitely sounded more coherent.

“Yeah, baby. You with me?”

Jungkook’s lips turned up in a dopey smile as he giggled down at Yoongi.

“You called me baby.”

Yoongi flushed, shifting around a little in embarrassment.

“Yup. Anyway, you uh...you good?

Jungkook nods. “I’m good. You just smell really fucking amazing.”

“Yeah, well. So do you. Nice for an Alpha,” Yoongi mumbles as he reaches up to ruffle his hair nervously.

“So I wasn’t really planning on entertaining, but we have some music and snacks. I dunno, cards? I wasn’t really planning on doing much except sleeping.”

“Yoongi,” Jungkook quirks an eyebrow. “You have an Alpha mate in your nest, I can smell you’re soaked with slick. You wanna play cards?”

“Well, uh...no. I didn’t want to just assume. We don’t have to do anything if it's to soo - mrrhwpof!”

Jungkook silenced him with his lips, kissing him as passionately as he had before. He pulled away only to sit up and tear off his shirt, tugging on Yoongi’s to get him to do the same. He shuffled up and pulled his off all while staring at Jungkook’s chest. He’d seen the other shirtless countless times of course, but he’d never allowed himself to really look.

“Kook, how often do you actually work out?”

“Six days a week. I rest on Sundays.”

“Uh huh. And how long are your workouts?”

“Depends on what I’m focusing on that day. At least an hour or two. Why?” Jungkook asked as his eyes narrow with suspicion. A moment later he grins mischievously. “Hyung, do you have a kink you wanna tell me about?”

“No, fuck you. Just wondering why you look like you’re made of fucking stone. Totally uncomfortable. Like trying to sleep on a rock.”

“Sure. Whatever you say,” Jungkook chuckles and grabs him, easily picking him up and rolling them to settle Yoongi on top. He stares down at the smirking Alpha half startled, half very aroused.

“I bet I could easily pick you up and fuck you against a wall sometime if you wanted. Maybe even have you straddle my shoulders and I could suck you off that way,” Jungkook muses so matter of factly despite the subject matter, and Yoongi can feel himself get wetter by the second.

Okay, so maybe he might have a little strength kink.

Suddenly impatient, Yoongi shuffles out of his pants and flings them across the room. Just as quickly, he reaches over and begins tugging on Jungkook’s pants, the other helpfully lifting up. The Alpha’s previous cocky expression is gone as his more familiar startled doe eyes make an appearance. Yoongi can literally hear him gulping as his pants are finally thrown in the general direction of Yoongi’s.

The Omega licks his lips as he stares down at his prize. He remembered seeing a flash a few times of pre-presented Jungkook, and he’d been maybe a little larger than the average Beta. Now he was an Alpha, a Prime Alpha at that, and he was easily the largest that Yoongi had ever seen in person. He was almost afraid of it.

“How do you want me, Alpha?” Yoongi purred, trailing a finger down the leaking cock in front of him.

Jungkook released the lip he was chewing on, staring up at Yoongi in awe.

“Whatever you want. You’re in charge.”

Yoongi paused, peering at him in confusion.

“Me? You’re an Alpha in the middle of claiming and you want me to be in charge?”

Jungkook nodded his head rapidly. “Yeah, hyung. Love you, wanna be good for you.”

Yoongi forced his jaw to snap shut, shaking his head. He didn’t know why he was so surprised. This was his Jungkook after all, despite his newly acquired knot.

“Kook, are you...still....uh...”

“Yeah. I messed around a little bit once when I thought you were going to mate that jackass ex of yours, and I tried to move on. Never went all the way though.”

“Shit.”

“It’s okay, hyung. I trust you.”

Yoongi nodded distractedly, observing the perfect body under him. He leaned over and pressed a featherlight kiss to the corner of Jungkook’s mouth, urging him to release the bottom lip he was chewing on. The Alpha sighed at the contact, letting Yoongi kiss his lips softly before moving. He pressed light kisses everywhere simply because he could. The fact that he could kiss Jungkook as much as he wanted and the other actually wanted him to was amazing to him. He kissed his nose, his forehead, his cheeks, his chin - everywhere until the Alpha was giggling.

Yoongi smirked as he moved down because he knew the little Alpha wasn’t going to be laughing for long.

Suddenly he moved down to Jungkook’s neck, sucking the skin hard as the other gasped and bucked underneath him. He pulled back and kissed the forming bruise before he glanced up at Jungkook.

The Alpha was already whimpering. Still as sensitive as ever.

Yoongi peeked at the dark and perky nipples on Jungkook’s chest with glee, realizing he was about to get the answer to a question he’d always wondered. Seokjin often complained about how hard Jungkook was to wake up and how he usually had to resort to extreme measures, like splashing him with water or twisting his nipples. Apparently, they were extremely sensitive and Yoongi had frequently wondered how sensitive. He’s seen videos where guys can get off just by playing with them alone, and he wondered if Jungkook could do it.

Without giving the other any warning he went straight to work, sucking a pebbled nipple harshly. Jungkook cried out with his head thrown back, reaching out to crush their hips together. Yoongi gaped in awe over how beautiful Jungkook looked in the throes of passion.

“Hyung,” Jungkook panted, staring at Yoongi as he suckled and licked the Alpha mercilessly. “Yoongi, I know I said you’re in charge but I’m not gonna make it. I’m too excited and I want to be with you so bad...I can’t -”

“What’s the matter, Kook? You gonna cum just from having your nipples licked? We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff yet,” Yoongi grinned as Jungkook whined. He could feel the Alpha twitching under him, and he suddenly worried that he really meant it when he said he couldn’t make it.

“Alright, baby Alpha. Hyung will take mercy on you this time,” he sat up and patted the rock hard abs, chuckling when the other sighed in relief.

And that was when Yoongi realized there was a problem.

“Uh, hey Kook? Since you were the only one of us that knew this was going to happen, you brought condoms, right?”

Jungkook looked adorable as he tried to focus enough to think, his sheepish grin telling Yoongi everything.

“Really?”

“Sorry, hyung.”

Yoongi sighed. “Okay, just...you do realize that I don’t take anything, right? I love my heats and I have never wanted to take anything that would mess up my body or create problems later on. And I don’t take any form of birth control because I haven’t been seeing anyone. If we do this, I’m probably leaving this cave pregnant. I can suck you off or something if you want.”

Jungkook suddenly growled and pressed his hips harder against Yoongi, frantically bucking against him. Yoongi observed the other curiously before breaking into a smirk.

“Oh, it’s like that? Little Alpha wants pups, huh?” Yoongi teased, letting Jungkook’s cock slide across his slick hole.

The Alpha whined breathily as he tried to sneakily press against Yoongi.

“My Alpha wants to fill me up, lock me down,” Yoongi leaned over and moaned against Jungkook’s ear. He reached back a little and grabbed the Alpha’s cock, lining it up and sinking on it slowly. Thanks to Jungkook’s overwhelming Prime pheromones, Yoongi’s body has been acting like it was in preheat since the tunnel, meaning he didn’t have to do any prep because he was already soaking and naturally dilated, just waiting to be filled up.

He leaned up and braced himself on Jungkook’s chest with his palms, totally not taking advantage and squeezing the muscled pecs underneath them. Seeing that the young Alpha was slowly losing control, he decided to be nice and fuck him good.

He waited only a few moments to let himself get used to Jungkook’s massive size, sliding up and down as he rode him slowly, leaking so much slick he was getting it all over Jungkook’s hips. He couldn’t remember ever being as slick as this before, but it was certainly helping now. Jungkook was stretching him out so well he knew he’d be feeling this for days.

“Alpha,” Yoongi moans, breath shaking desperately. “Jungkook, need you - ”

Jungkook suddenly grabbed Yoongi’s hips and bucked into him hard, over and over again until Yoongi was practically screaming his name. The cave echoed with the slaps of skin on skin, harsh panting and moaned endearments.

“So good, Kook. Such a good Alpha for me,” Yoongi wailed as Jungkook reached up and pulled them together, chests flush and lips kissing each other sloppily.

“Mine. My ‘mega,” Jungkook growled, tucking his face into Yoongi’s neck.

“Yeah, Alpha. You gonna mark me up?” Yoongi groaned, pressing his nails into the other’s shoulders.

Jungkook nodded against his skin, hips still hammering into the other as he searched for the perfect spot.

“Do it now, Kook. I’m gonna cum,” Yoongi moaned harshly, leaning over to settle his teeth against Jungkook’s scent gland.

The first press of the Alpha’s teeth into his neck sent Yoongi over the edge, his cock spurting all over Jungkook’s chest as he made a mark of his own. Jungkook’s knot swelled inside of him, filling him up and locking them together. Yoongi pulled away from Jungkook’s neck, licking the wound to begin it’s healing. His own neck ached in the most amazing way as Jungkook lapped at it, and after a few moments, the bond began to settle.

Yoongi’s eyes widened as the full depth of Jungkook’s emotions reached out to him over the bond, filling every crack of his broken soul like a balm.

“You weren’t kidding,” Yoongi tried to joke, though his stupid feelings were making his voice crack.

“No. I love you, always,” Jungkook smiled, leaning back against the pillows and bringing Yoongi with him. “And guess what? You love me. I can feel it.”

Yoongi blushed but nodded as he snuggled into Jungkook’s neck, taking the opportunity to both hide his flustered face and get his fill of the Alpha’s scent.

Yoongi lay sprawled across Jungkook’s chest as they waited for the knot to go down, silently kissing and nuzzling each other like a couple of ridiculous saps. When it finally slipped free, he grimaced and rolled off of the admittedly more comfortable than it looked chest and onto his back. He suddenly wished he’d thought to bring stuff for washing up.

Jungkook reached over and grabbed the baby wipes from earlier, winking at Yoongi. He rolled his eyes but allowed the Alpha to clean them both up as best as he could. When he was done he cuddled up against Yoongi’s side, slowly rubbing the Omega’s stomach. Yoongi scoffed at how obvious Kook was.

“So, that was quick but good, right? How’s it feel to not be a virgin anymore, baby Alpha?” Yoongi teased, running his fingers through the other’s hair.

Jungkook snorted and glanced up at him. “Good hyung. Just happy it was you.”

“Mmmm, good. We can nap now?”

“Yes,” Jungkook chuckles, “We can nap now. Not like I could have stopped you.”

“Good,” Yoongi yawns loudly and throws a couple of blankets over them, tangling their legs together. “Later we can try the thing with the nipples.”

Jungkook sputters. “What?”

“Nothin. Go to sleep.”

The Alpha grumbles but slowly stills as they give into their exhaustion.

Suddenly, Yoongi’s eyes shoot open and he gasps.

“Oh shit! Your brother is going to kill me!”

Jungkook merely laughs.

#btssmutclub #bts #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts fanfiction #yoonkook #sugakookie #yoongi scenario #jungkook scenario #yoongi #jungkook #lemon

315 notes · View notes

sweetheartjeongguk · 5 years

Text

salvation (m)

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: zombie apocalypse au, e2l au, smut, angst, fluff

rating: nc-17

warning(s): mentions of blood and gore, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, brief mentions of vomit

word count: 7.1k+

summary: it’s a wonder what six months can entail, especially amidst a zombie apocalypse.

masterlist

When you were 13 years old, you told your mother that you would never like Min Yoongi even if you were the last two people on Earth.

She must be rolling around in laughter in her grave at your present situation - stuck in a dirty, abandoned motel room with your arch nemesis.

“Stop touching me.”

“I’m not even touching you.”

“Then what’s on my foot?”

“It’s probably that rat I saw earlier.”

“What?!”

Correction: your entire family are probably laughing their asses off as they watch you jump a hundred feet in the air while smacking at your ankle at the nonexistent rodent. Yoongi’s eyes are closed, but the smug smirk on his face says it all.

“Oh, you must think you’re so funny, don’t you?” You sneer, wincing slightly when you lean on your other leg for balance.

While the injury from six months ago has healed up completely, leaving behind a thin scar, your leg hasn’t been the same since.

“Oh, I know so.” Yoongi doesn’t even open his eyes.

He just keeps his arms crossed his chest, head nestled in the hard-as-rock motel pillows while his body is protected from the uncomfortable draft with the scratchy blankets.

“Lay down, you’re giving me anxiety.” Yoongi grumbles. “Your leg’s gonna get worse.”

“Why do you care?” You scoff, still standing a good three feet from your side of the bed.

“I don’t.” He opens his eyes, squinting tiredly at your figure swaying from side to side. “More room for myself then. Enjoy the floor, I’m sure the rat is happy to share.”

To this day, you’ve kept to your word. Now that you and Yoongi are the last two people on Earth, you’re 100% sure that you don’t like him.

There are many reasons why you hate Min Yoongi, but there are three that you hate the most.

First off, he’s a know-it-all asshole. During your junior year of high school, you were practicing your presentation for AP Biology when he came bounding in your living room and proceeded to pick apart your essay while laughing his ass off with your brother. He just watched as you brushed past him and your brother in tears with a sodden copy of your essay on DNA replication in your trembling hands.

Secondly, he’s the pickiest man to ever roam the planet. Even after you escaped from a horde of the undead just an hour before, he still found time to go through every single room of the abandoned motel and took nearly half an hour testing the springiness of the mattresses. You nearly had an aneurysm each time you dragged your bags into the room only for the man to say “Nope, too stiff!” or “Hmm, too itchy!” or his ultimate favorite “Let’s be honest, can we see each other in here?”

Last but not least, Min Yoongi cares for no one but himself. Even after the world went to shit and it came down to just you and Yoongi, you know the look in his eyes whenever you catch him looking at you. He didn’t want to be here, same as you. If he didn’t want to spend even five minutes in the same room as you when you were teenagers, you don’t doubt for a second that he regrets his decision to stay with you for the rest of your indefinite future.

In his eyes, you’re just the annoying little sister of his high school best friend. In your eyes, he’s the dickhead who would eat all your Hot Cheetos you stored away in a specific place in the kitchen pantry and brag about his college hookups and drunk episodes with your brother while you’re still in the room.

You glare at his back when the darkness of the motel room settles in. “I hope the rat bites your dick off in your sleep.”

“Kinky. Now, shut up and go to sleep.”

The next morning is no better than the night before. You end up sleeping on the small couch in the corner of the room near the front room, your upper body twisted in an odd pretzel shape while your legs hung off the arm. The amusement on Yoongi’s face when he wakes you up with a single shove to the shoulder is blatantly obvious, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

“Get up, they’re gone now. Probably got distracted by some other poor guy outside.” Yoongi mutters as he grabs his backpack from underneath the bed. “Wash up a little before we leave, you’re looking a little crusty and smelling a little musty.”

You send him a dark glare. “Sorry for not smelling like sunshine and roses in the fucking zombie apocalypse. Next time, I’ll be sure to stop by Bath and Body Works later.”

Yoongi mirrors your unimpressed look but says nothing else as he watches you trudge forward and lock yourself in the bathroom to freshen up. To your luck, the entire plumbing system has gone to crap - both literally and metaphorically - so instead, you rely on your several bottled waters in your backpack and the miniscule amount of toothpaste and soap left to wash up and brush your teeth.

“There she is, Miss Universe 20-whatever the fuck year it is.” Yoongi drawls sarcastically when you finally exit the bathroom, slightly freshened up and smelling like mint and the cheap motel soapbar left in the shower cubby.

“Let’s just get the fuck out here.” You brush past to open the door, but you’re instantly stopped by Yoongi’s hand that prevents you from it fully swinging open.

“Are you fucking insane? Where’s your weapon?” Yoongi berates you, eyes searching your body for the pocket knife that you usually carry on you. “Didn’t your brother teach you not to open shit if you’re not sure what’s on the other side?”

“You just told me that they’re gone, so what?” You hiss, attempting to pull the door open again, but Yoongi’s a lot stronger than you think. “Let. Go.”

“I’m going first.” You let out a “Hey!” when he pushes you away with a small shove. “Get your knife out and stay behind me.”

It’s a good thing that Yoongi’s completely focused on peeking around the door for stray zombies or else he wouldn’t be so pleased at the number of mouthed curses and grimaces you send at the back of his head.

“Come on.” He nods forward, and you follow behind with your knife grasped firmly in your palm.

“Where to next, Min?” You yawn as you begin your journey down the road, twisting your neck from side to side in an attempt to rid your body of its soreness.

“I’m not sure yet.” He answers shortly. “Last time I checked, there’s nothing really around here. Just a bunch of cabins and trees.”

“Should we try to find a cabin then? Safer bet if we want some food and shelter.” You suggest, but you’re not surprised when Yoongi shakes his head.

“They’re probably occupied or swarming with crawlies.” Yoongi scoff. “We’re better off on the road.”

“Or we could just take out the dead and then take over the house.” You add, getting a little too excited over the idea of a warm cabin with semi-clean sheets and the possibility of food. “Or maybe if there’s people, we could-”

“I said no.” Yoongi snaps, sending you a sharp glare. “Can you listen for once?”

You feel your chest sting. “It’s just a suggestion.”

“Well, you need to wake up and understand that no one is going to help us out here. It’s time to put your fantasies aside or else we’re going to end up getting killed all because of your suggestion.”

“And yours is any better? Walking around aimlessly until we may or may not find something.” You grit your teeth. “Sure, that’s a much better idea.”

“For a girl whose life was saved by me on multiple occasions, you sure love to act like an ungrateful child.” Yoongi scoffs. “What would your brother think?”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, would I?!” You bellow. “He’s fucking gone, just like everyone else. But you wouldn’t care because all you care is about you and your large fucking ego.”

Your shout echos through the trees, sending birds flying out of their nests in fear. Yoongi stops in his tracks and stares back at you, ignoring your tear-filled eyes and quivering bottom lip. It’s not the first time you’ve snapped on him for being a complete dickhead, but this is the first time since you joined his one-man survival group that you’ve mentioned anything about your brother and your family.

He knows how much your family meant to you and how devastated you were when they were slowly picked off one by one, your brother being the last one to go. It had been the week before Yoongi found you with your leg caught in a barbed wire fence after you were running away from a horde that ambushed you on your way to your friend’s house in hopes that they were still alive. He never asked about what happened to him, and you never mentioned why you were alone.

The two of you aren’t friends, and you both know better than to act like you are.

“Let’s just go.” Yoongi sighs in defeat.

He starts walking away, gripping onto the straps of his backpack with one hand with the other hovering over the gun tucked away in his jeans. He shrugs off the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, marking it off as nerves from yesterday. It isn’t until a few minutes later when he notices the lack of footsteps behind him that he turns around and is greeted with an empty stretch of road.

“Y/N?” His voice is barely a whisper, but he feels as though he’s shouting out to the sky.

“Y/N, I’m not kidding, where the fuck are you?” Yoongi calls out again, a nervous stutter threatening to build up in his throat.

He’s met with silence. Fury builds up inside of him as he dashes down the road with his gun clutched tightly in his right hand. Sure, you could say dumb stuff and do something incredibly stupid from time to time, but you weren’t that idiotic to go off by yourself but nothing but a flimsy pocket knife and two days’ worth of food.

Weren’t you?

Running off by yourself with practically nothing to protect yourself with isn’t the smartest idea, but here you are, wandering down a dirt road with no map or guide to show the way to civilization - well, anything resembling civilization.

The rageful annoyance that coursed through your body half an hour ago has dissipated into a dull ache in the center of your chest - a constant reminder of the pain that brought you to where you are today. You were quick to think that Yoongi was a complete asshole for mentioning your brother like that, but in the end, you know that he was right.

What would your brother think?

“You know, you could say hi to him every once and a while when he comes over.” You ignore the voice at the entrance of your bedroom as you continue pouring over your homework. “It wouldn’t kill you to be nice for a millisecond.”

“He annoys me.”

“You’ve only talked to him once.”

“And that was enough for me.”

Your brother sighs. You expect him to close your door and leave you be like all the other times he came to confront you about Yoongi, but you’re unpleasantly surprised when he pulls up the chair from your computer desk and plops down in front of you without a care in the world.

“Listen to me, Yoongi’s not a bad guy once you get to know him. I know he teases you a lot, but he only does that to his friends or people he likes.”

“We’re not friends.” You frown.

“Well then, maybe he likes you.”

“Ugh, gross!”

Your brother cackles at the disgusted grimace that contorts your face. “Just give it a couple years, and you won’t mind.”

You’ve never taken your brother’s words to heart. Even if they were as close as they were, you hardly believe that someone like Min Yoongi would ever like you platonically or romantically. As an angsty teen, you liked to think that Yoongi was a robot created by the government to learn how to act like a human, therefore magically explaining his lack of emotion and general unpleasantness around you.

Whenever you would go off on your daily Yoongi rants, your brother would pinch you on your shoulder with a roll of his eyes.

“Trust me, Yoongi is anything but. You’ll see.”

Oh, you’d definitely like to see that.

It’s been an hour, and you’ve gotten nowhere. There’s an urge to turn back and hope that you end up meeting Yoongi halfway, but you’ve been making too many U-turns and criss-crosses that you aren’t too sure that you’re on the same road anymore.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” You mutter up to the sky, hoping that somewhere, your brother is watching and is nice enough to lead you back on your path.

In reality, he’s probably shaking his head along with your parents and praying that you don’t make another dumb decision that ends up with you joining him in the afterlife.

“Yoongi?” You whisper sharply, silently hoping that the quiet wind carries your voice to him. A long shot, but still worth a try. “Yoongi, are you there?”

Snap.

You twist your head in the direction of the noise. “Yoongi?”

No response. Your heart starts to race out of control, and you curse yourself as you slowly begin to hyperventilate.

Breathe, stupid bitch!

Another twig breaks in the distance. You begin shuffling backwards, holding back the urge to simultaneously shit, piss, and throw up everywhere. This is your karma, isn’t it? Maybe Yoongi isn’t a robot at all but is, in fact, a powerful wizard who’s cursed you to die a most painful death.

Well, you’re certainly a second away from finding out the truth.

Once you hear a louder crunch of leaves and branches, you book it, not caring if your footsteps make an even louder noise and attracts every bloodthirsty creature in the woods to come after you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, why did I do this?” You try to catch your breath while running for your life, but you’ve never been great at multitasking.

Sure enough, the low groaning and bone-numbing shrieks behind you tell you everything you need to know - you’re going to die today, and it’s completely your fault.

Tears stream down in thick rivulets as you continue running, ignoring the sharp stinging pain that shoots through your bad leg. It wobbles with every step you take, and you just know that you’re about to call it and give yourself up once your leg gives out.

But once you start dropping to the floor, you’re surprised that there are arms to catch you before you could hit the asphalt.

For once in your life, you’ve never been so happy to see Min Yoongi’s face, even if it’s full of fiery anger.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Yoongi practically screams. “You’re lucky you’re not fucking dead! What are you-”

Yoongi yelps when you pull him into a tight embrace. You’re sobbing loudly, snot and spit dripping down your face like nobody’s business. Yoongi gulps awkwardly, wrapping his stiff arms around your waist before retracting quickly and pushing you away. He’s quick to motion to your snotty face in disgust.

“Wipe your face, and let’s go!” Yoongi pulls you up by the crook of your elbow. “I’m trying not to die today. How about you?”

Instead of sprinting down the road, Yoongi cuts across into the woods with you in tow, cringing as his feet stomp noisily on the ground below. You’re definitely going to attract more undead, but you no longer feel a wave of anxiety anymore.

Instead, you just feel overwhelming relief as Yoongi grabs your hand until you’re neck and neck with him.

“Come on, I saw a building up ahead.” Yoongi grunts breathily.

There’s no time to argue. You simply follow Yoongi’s lead and hold onto your pocket knife for dear life. All you could focus on are the sounds of your heart thumping closer to a heart attack and the rushing blood in your ears, but the jarring sound of a zombie mob becomes even more deafening.

“Up here!” You cry when you notice the white stone building ahead, a door just within your reach.

Yoongi grabs the door knob with both hands and pulls with all his might. Your heart stops for a second when it doesn’t budge, but one more yank and the door’s groaning open.

“In, in!” Yoongi all but shoves you forward, promptly slamming the door shut and bolting it shut.

For extra measure, the two of you shove a nearby shelf in front of the door. You pray that it won’t end up biting you in the ass later in case you need to make a quick escape, but the sight before you vanishes the thought immediately.

“Oh. My. God.”

First, it’s a disbelieved chuckle. Then, it’s a noticeable giggle. After that, it’s full-on cackling until your sides hurt and your eyes burn with tears.

Out of all the places you and Yoongi could wander into by mistake, you manage to hole yourself up in a supermarket. Semi-trashed and looted, but a supermarket all the same.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it.” You wheeze, leaning forward with your hands on your knees as you try and catch your breath. “You practically brought us to the zombie apocalypse promise land.”

Yoongi chuckles. It’s weird to see another emotion other than annoyance or disgust (emotions thanks to yours truly), but you don’t mind it.

Going by the warmth spreading through your veins and the unconscious smile that ticks up your lip, you certainly don’t mind it.

“Check the doors and windows.” Yoongi suggest, pointing to one direction of the store. “You start there, I’ll be over here. Let me know if you find anything.”

After a quick search to make sure there were no walking carcasses hanging around the store waiting for a bite of your flesh, you meet back in the middle.

“We can practically live here forever.” You exclaim, your voice carrying across the floor. “This is literally the dream life, and we’re living it.”

“Do you really want to spend the rest of your days stuck in a grocery store with me?” Yoongi asks sardonically.

You shrug. “I guess I wouldn’t mind.”

It’s quiet. You’re still surveying the store with your eyes, gaping at the rows of foods and alcohol practically whispering your name. You fail to register Yoongi’s expression - blown out pupils, hanging jaw, flushed red cheeks.

“I’ll be right back.” You singsong as you disappear into one of the aisles.

Yoongi has time to shake himself back into reality when you finally come back with a shopping cart filled with cereal, canned soups, and bottles upon bottles of alcohol.

“I’ve always wanted Captain Crunch with vodka in the morning.” Yoongi jokes, picking up the clear bottle of Grey Goose. “Brings back good ol’ college memories.”

“Nothing screams a balanced breakfast diet like sugary cereal past its expiration date and alcoholic potato water.” You grin teasingly.

Yoongi goes to retort, but he closes his mouth as he watches you crack open a bottle and chug it down like it’s water. He laughs to himself - he should probably tell you that it’s a better idea to drink water and eat something first before drowning yourself in alcohol.

To each their own.

“Want some?” You hiccup as you break free for a breather. “Tastes like rubbing alcohol and death.”

“Two of my favorite things.” Yoongi accepts the bottle, taking a moderate sip unlike your atrocious glugging.

It’s going to be an interesting night.

Yoongi’s dealt with prepubescent you, he’s dealt with emo high schooler you who was obsessed with spoken word poetry and had a goth boyfriend for one semester of your sophomore year. Hell, he’s even dealt with college freshman you who practically lived, breathed, and slept homework even during holiday breaks.

But Yoongi can’t say that he’s had to deal with drunk, adult baby you. Well, until now.

“I still don’t know where he went though, he just went off and vanished.” You slur, back pressed against the cold tile of the supermarket wall and butt seated on the hard linoleum floor. “Mr. Fluffers...you are missed.”

Yoongi giggles drunkenly. For the past hour, you’ve been ranting about your childhood pet, Mr. Fluffers, and the utterly tragic story of how he ran away when you were seven years old. Since then, you’ve never had another pet, still traumatized by the sudden disappearance of your beloved.

Yoongi laughs because he’s heard this story from your brother. It turns out that your father accidentally left the cage open when he was cleaning it out and forgot to close it again for the night. When he found the next morning, he decided that the best way to cover up his tracks was to give you a complete bullshit story about Mr. Fluffers returning home to his wife and kids in their home in the forest.

“We lived in the city, where the fuck was Mr. Fluffers gonna go?” You grumble, taking another swig of the half empty vodka bottle.

“Well, he must be in a better place now.” Yoongi offers.

“Define better place.” You shake your head. “Everywhere’s a piece of shit. Name me one good thing left in this world, I dare you.”

Yoongi hums to himself, putting on a thoughtful look while even stroking an invisible moustache. You roll your eyes playfully until he finally gives you his answer.

“You.”

You have the urge to smack him on the knee and shout out “Good one, you dick.” The look on his face stops you before you reach over and hit his leg. Never in your life have you seen Yoongi’s eyes glisten before, features softened and wilted like a beautiful dying flower.

“You’re ridiculous.” You hiccup a laugh. You go to grab the vodka bottle from his hand, but his reflexes are still faster than yours.

“I’m serious.” Yoongi replies gently, contrasting his hardened expression. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“Uh, because you’re you?” Yoongi frowns. You sigh to yourself. “Yoongi, for most of my adolescent and adult lives, you’ve done nothing but taunt me and be mean to me. You just tolerated me because you were friends with my brother, but...that’s it. That’s all I am to you.”

“That’s not true.” His cheeks twitch before settling into another serious look. “Fuck, that’s beyond the truth.”

“Then, what is the truth?”

You wait patiently as Yoongi drags a hand through his hair, entangling his fingers in the messy tufts. He looks extremely conflicted which prompts to open your mouth to tell him that it’s okay, but he beats you to the punch.

“I’ve never hated you, not even once. I mean, how could I? You’re so fucking perfect in every way, shape, and form. You’re smart, kind, beautiful, and funny. God, the amount of times I had to pull myself together whenever you walked in the room. Your brother probably thought I was constipated every time I came to visit.”

You want to laugh with him, but it’s as if the muscles in your face have been glued together. All you can do is sit back and listen in awe as Yoongi goes into a drunken ramble.

“Your brother could already sense that I liked you, but he didn’t say anything. Probably because he wanted me to look like a fool most of the time. I did that a lot, haven’t I?” Yoongi glances down at the tops of his knees, simply interested in the spare thread dangling from the rip in his jeans. “I don’t expect you to believe me or even like me back. Hell, you’re better off that way. It’s just that I l-”

Yoongi’s speech is interrupted when you press your lips against his. Your lips are both chapped, and you both taste of vodka and stale breakfast cereals, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your hand draws closer to Yoongi, slowly making its way up the firm plane of his chest to the side of his face. He draws you closer with his hands on your waist, and you’re too out of your mind to pull back and think clearly.

All you know is that you wanted this. You wanted him.

“You feel so nice.” Yoongi whispers, his breath caressing against your lips before he nudges them apart with his. You let out a whimper when the tip of his tongue brushes against yours.

“God, why am I such an idiot?” Yoongi moves to lightly kiss against the column of your throat, stopping to lick the skin and suckle a mark across the surface. “All this time, I could have had you in my arms like this.”

Pulling back to stare back into your equally fucked-out expression, he seems to hold you tighter.

“All this time, I could have been fucking your tight, little pussy instead of dreaming about it.”

Yoongi smirks when you hold back an obvious whimper, squeezing your thighs together as your heated center throbs in want. His hands smooth down the back of your shirt and to your hips until they reach your back of your jeans. You whine in surprise when they round back to land two firm smacks to your bottom.

“Does my baby girl like that?” Yoongi teases lowly. “She’s so desperate to have me touch her, but little baby’s too shy to admit it.”

You have the urge to shove your hands in your face and shield yourself away, but Yoongi brings you closer to his chest, still grasping the globes of your ass in a firm grip.

“What do you want me to do, hm?” Yoongi whispers, peppering tiny kisses on your face. A soft gesture for such obscene intentions. “I really want to be inside you, but I kinda want to taste you first. What do you think?”

You barely have the courage to answer him. His words bring a violent flush to your face, and you begin stammering your words. Yoongi saves you by placing his index to your wobbly lips.

“Suck.”

You spoke too soon.

You pout against his fingertip, but the determined look on his face tells you that he isn’t fucking around - at least not yet. True to his request, you draw the finger into your mouth, enclosing the digit in the wet heat of your mouth. You begin a back-and-forth movement, unable to keep your eyes on Yoongi’s as you practically fuck your mouth on his hand.

“O-Oh, fuck, that’s sexy.” Yoongi groans, the sensation of your mouth on his skin building up a different kind of heat in his body. He knows that if you keep this up, he’ll end up coming in his pants instead of inside you.

“Sit back, baby.” Yoongi plucks his finger out of your mouth.

Ignoring your cute face when he pulls away from you, he drags you closer once you lay flat on the floor. You’d normally feel grossed out, but you’re too far gone to care about where Yoongi had you. All you know is that you needed him inside you right now.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” Yoongi holds back his juvenile excitement as he tugs your pants down along with your panties. He’s greeted by a small tuft of curly hair and sleek wetness - the vision of complete perfection. “God, you’re so fucking wet, I need to taste you right now.”

You barely have enough time to prepare yourself when Yoongi pushes your thighs apart and dives in, tongue licking up your dripping folds and mouth forming a tight suction around your swollen clit. It’s hard not to rock against his face and grind your slit against his tongue, but once he notices your growing dilemma, he drapes his arm across your front and holds you firmly to the ground. Endless streams of moans and whimpers leave your mouth as Yoongi continues to suck, indulging in your sweet wetness.

“I-I’m so c-close.” You bite your lip, a hand trailing down to grip onto his hair. “P-Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” Yoongi tugs on your clit for a bit before replacing it with his thumb, rubbing half-circles around the nub. “I couldn’t hear you, baby. You have to speak louder if you want to get what you want.”

“I-I want you inside me. I-I want your fucking cock now.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?” Yoongi chuckles devilishly.

If you were in your right mind, you’d have no problem replying with a snarky comment. Right now, your brain feels as though it’s filled with millions of fuzzies, sending your ears ringing as you fall closer into your approaching climax.

“P-Please, baby, hurry.” You surprise both yourself and Yoongi by flipping onto your stomach and pushing your ass up against his lap, drenching the top of his pants with the dribbling wetness of your cunt.

Without wasting anymore time, Yoongi unzips his pants and use the come dripping down your thighs to sleek up his length. Lining himself up, he finally thrusts inside, moving slowly as inch by inch is engulfed by your unbelievably tight pussy.

“O-Oh shit.” Yoongi curses when he finally bottoms out. “Baby, you okay?”

You hold back a sob as Yoongi’s hand tenderly caresses the side of your face. The stretch has been bearable, but having him draped over your back with your cunt wrapped snugly around him is teetering on too much too quickly.

“It’s okay, baby.” Yoongi kisses your cheek - a small but sweet act to comfort your nerves. “God, you feel so good around me.”

You take a few moments to get yourself used to the overwhelming sensation, circling your hips now and then to adjust to his length but stopping every few seconds whenever Yoongi whines in your ear about you being a “fucking tease”.

“You can move.” You whisper almost inaudibly, but Yoongi hears you loud and clear. You go to whisper something else into his ear, but you’re cut off by a loud moan when he pulls out only to slam back, hitting your sweet spot with ease.

“F-Fuck, I love this tight fucking pussy.” Yoongi hisses when you clench down every so often between his rough thrusts. “God, you’re so wet for me. You gonna come for me, princess?”

You simply nod, not having the energy to whimper your answer. You brace yourself on your elbows, your back arched to Yoongi’s liking and the knot in your stomach ready to snap at any moment.

“C-Come…”

“What’s that, baby?” Yoongi breathes.

“C-Come inside…”

You both fall apart together, him relishing in the spasming of your pussy on his cock and you enjoying the warm come filling you up as he continues thrusting slowly until he’s too tired and sensitive to keep up the pace.

“You did so well, baby.” Yoongi sighs as he kisses you again.

He doesn’t stop kissing you until you fall asleep on top of the makeshift sleeping bags on the floor, covered in a mix of your come and sweat.

“Come on, we have to go.”

You blink slowly as the light of the sun peers through an open crack of the blinds. Looking down, you notice that you’re covered in a thin throw blanket that Yoongi must have found in one of the aisles. You smile to yourself, heart fluttering at the kind gesture.

“Yoongi, I-”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? I said get dressed and hurry up. We don’t have a lot of time.”

Just like that, your rose-tinted world is shattered.

“W-What?” You’re afraid that if you raise your voice higher, you’ll end up bursting into tears. “Yoongi…”

“I’ll go check around again while you change. Try to be fast, we don’t want to get caught up in another swarm again.”

It’s like you’re talking to a complete stranger. The Min Yoongi you talked with last time and wrapped your arms around as he held you when you sleep is not this man.

No, this man is worse. You’re back to square one, back to silence and obligatory distance.

Robotically, you head into the bathroom and dress yourself in the clothes you found in the $5 section of the supermarket, shedding a few tears as you clean out the remaining come from your body and wipe away any trace of the Yoongi from last night. Your head throbs from your hangover, but nothing compares to the throbbing pain choking you from the inside out.

“Good, you’re finished.” Yoongi nods when he notices you return from the bathroom. He doesn’t even blink when you shove past him to grab your backpack from the ground. “I snagged a couple walkies so we can use that in case we lose each other- What’s so funny?”

Yoongi frowns as he notices you start to laugh.

“Nothing.” You sigh, shaking your head. “Let’s just get out here already.”

You don’t look down, especially when you pass your makeshift sleeping quarters. You don’t need anymore reminders of your mistake, and you know Yoongi doesn’t either.

You continue forward, heart breaking with each step. If only you knew that with every step you take away from him, the more Yoongi wishes to pull you back to him.

“A few months after everything went to shit, I heard from someone that there is supposedly a sanctuary in the next town over. Apparently, some guy and his family just knew something was up and decided to use their house as a welcome center.” Yoongi scoffs. “Don’t know if that makes them stupid or what.”

“Putting blind faith into someone else, hoping that they weren’t like everyone else.” You blurt out, making Yoongi turn his head in surprise at your harsh tone. “I wonder what that feels like.”

“Y/N…” Yoongi starts softly, but you have had enough.

“You’re not obligated to treat me as your friend anymore, Min.” You drone. “Hell, you’re free to leave and do whatever you please. Didn’t stop you when you were in college, shouldn’t stop you now!”

Yoongi frowns. “Y/N, if you would just listen-”

“No!” You spin on your heel. “The last time I did that, I actually thought you were someone else! I thought for once, you didn’t think of just yourself and that for a split second, you actually liked me for me and not because I’m the last remnant of your friendship with my dead brother.”

“No! You-”

“Whatever, I’ve had enough.” You face your back to him. “Let’s just find a place to rest for tonight, okay?”

Yoongi says nothing. With a heavy heart and downturned stare, Yoongi walks beside you in a mechanical fashion. His hand is a mere two inches away, and he wishes to grab your hand, pull you to his chest, and kiss the pain away.

Instead, he shoves his hand inside his coat pocket and avoids eye contact with you, preferring to keep quiet and drown in his thoughts from the night before.

The journey is long and seemingly fruitless, but Yoongi finally spots a motel across the way. How ironic, you think to yourself. Now, you’re truly back at the beginning.

“Let’s settle for the night and regroup tomorrow.” Yoongi opens the door, motioning for you to walk in before him. You ignore him completely as you push through, dropping your bag on the floor and rummaging through for an extra set of clothes and your toothbrush.

“You can take the bed if you want.” Yoongi adds awkwardly. “I know your leg’s been hurting for a whil-”

“I’m fine.” You send back sharply. “You take it, I’ll take the floor.”

“No.” Yoongi shakes his head. “You should-”

“No offense, but who sleeps where is the least of my concerns.” You roll your eyes.

Yoongi wants to argue some more, expertly convince you that you’re more deserving of the bed and its semi-comfortable mattress when it happens.

You should have checked the perimeter before you came in, but your frustration with the man a few feet away occupied the entirety of your thoughts for the entire journey. A loud raspy scream escapes your throat as it launches itself at you, knocking you to the floor and latching its teeth around your arm of your jacket.

“Y/N!”

You nearly call it quits. In a bright flash of light, you nearly decide that it’s it for you, that your time on Earth had been just as limited as two-thirds of the population who fell to the same fate. Grimy blood and dirt coat your face and neck as the creature keeps gnawing away at the fabric of your jacket. You fight to knock it off your body, but he had been a heavy one in his previous life. Despite decomposing at an alarming rate, it’s still carried a portion of his human strength with it.

Whimpering as its bony knee digs into the tender scar on your leg, you attempt to whack against its head to knock it to the side, but you’re beaten to it when a hand darts forward to drive a long blade into its temple. Gushes of blood drip from its skull and onto your face, but you’re still simultaneously relieved when it drops dead - officially dead.

“Ugh, gross.” You wipe the blood off your cheeks with your clean sleeve. “Can this day get any worse?”

It’s when you try to shuffle to your feet that you hear it.

First, it’s a whimper. Then, it’s a choked cry. Then, Yoongi’s crashing into your side and burying his face in your neck, sobs wracking his entire body like an unending earthquake.

“I-I’m so sorry.” Yoongi wails, globs of tears soaking through the collar of your t-shirt. “I love you, please don’t leave me. P-Please!”

You’re shocked into silence. Never in your ten years of knowing Min Yoongi did you ever see him break down into...this. But his tear-smeared face is not what shocks you the most.

“I love you, please don’t leave me.”

“Yoongi…” You try to push him back to look him in the eye, but he refuses to budge.

“I-I know I don’t have much time left, b-but I needed t-to tell you.” Yoongi sniffles, his nose rubbing up against the side of your neck and his arms still in a vice-like hold around your waist. “I c-can’t lose you. Not you, dammit.”

Lose you? Wait…

“Yoongi...look at me.” Yoongi wants to shake his head like a child, but he listens. You would laugh at his face - drenched with tears, dried blood, and snot - but you know it’s not the time or place.

“Honey, what do you mean I don’t have time left?” You ask, a little amused but still full of concern at the sight of his distress.

Yoongi hiccups. “You’re...going to d-die.” His face contorts as though he’s going to break down into more tears,but you shush him.

“Yoongi,” You shake your head with a chuckle. “I’m not dying.”

He furrows his brow. “W-What?”

You lift your arm, showing him the aftermath of the zombie’s bite mark. His face falls even harder at the sight of the blood and torn material.

“Look? It didn’t go through.” You wiggle the arm in front of his face. “I’m fine.”

Yoongi’s face is blank for a moment, and you worry that he’s going to go back to his old self - the same one who left you naked and heartbroken on the floor while he packed his things like nothing even happened.

He doesn’t. Instead, his face crumples again, and he lets out another loud sob.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Yoongi kisses you, uncaring if he gets your whole face wet with his tears. “God, I love you so much. You scared me so much when you went missing. Fuck, I don’t want to lose you again.”

You smile. “You won’t, I promise.”

There are many reasons why you love Min Yoongi, but there are three that you love the most.

First of all, Min Yoongi is a know-it-all asshole. One night when you were scouring through another grocery store on a food run, you argued with him that the food item you had in your hand wasn’t expired but simply “not in its prime” and therefore semi-okay to eat. He was adamant about it being spoiled, but he let you win and watched you take one bite with a teasing grin. Needless to say, he didn’t enjoy holding your hair back while you vomited your guts out of the side of a deserted convenience store.

Secondly, he’s the pickiest man to ever roam the planet.

“Ugh, there are too many options!” He exclaims from his side of the store.

“Just pick one already!” You answer back, not knowing what he’s looking at.

“But it has to be perfect.” You can hear the pout in his voice. “Otherwise, we can’t leave yet.”

“Oh my god, what are you even-” Your voice dies when you finally drag your tired body to his location and realize what he was looking at.

“I told you it has to be perfect.” Yoongi gazes at you, his eyes softened and full of love.

Thankfully, you brought yourself over to him on your own. After all, he needed your help measuring your ring size.

Last but not least, you used to think that Yoongi cared for no one but himself, but now you know that it’s not true at all.

When you were presenting for your AP Biology class, he made sure to quiz you on all your facts and correct you on the little errors you made here and there. Sure, you cried your eyes out that night and may have looked up “different curses to use on your enemies” on Google, but at least you got a 100 on the essay. When he would take a million years testing out the “comfort levels” of the motel mattresses, he was really surveying the perimeter and making sure that whatever creature’s lurking in the shadows would be attracted to his noise and not you.

That, and Min Yoongi had a thing about comfy mattresses.

You used to think that you were truly alone in the world, but as you lay here curled up next to the love of your life in a shitty motel bed with no AC and a cheap $25 wedding band on your finger, being the last two people on Earth doesn’t seem so bad after all.

222 notes · View notes

boymeetsweevil · 5 years

Text

Another draft because FS is taking too long

Title: two wrongs don’t make a right (so what do two douchebags and a dweeb make?)

Douche/fuck boy Jimin and Jin, weirdo!OC

Jimin waits until the girl’s tiny frame disappears down the hallway in a blur of overly familiar stained sweats before turning to stare down a very sheepish looking Jin.

“You can’t tell anyone about this, got it?” He rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it and making him resemble a cockatoo.

“Dude, relax. I get it, you have a rep to maintain. Everyone ventures outside their type for a first time.”

Jin winces. He knows he’s known for being incredibly picky—only ever sleeping with 4.0 girls (the number referring to their maximum dress size and minimum GPA). Someone even did a story on it in the Hot Takes section of the school magazine. He’s still not sure if it’s a moment he should proud of.

“About that…” he trails off and tugs nervously at the throw blanket he hastily clothed himself with when Jimin burst into their shared living room only to catch him in a rather compromising position. With that girl of all people.

“What?”

“Itsnotthefirsttimeanditwontbethelast”

Jimin blinks slowly, trying to process the flurry of words and Jin’s ashamed tone. When what Jin said finally hits him, he grins darkly.

“Man, c’mon. Don’t joke like that about her, its not nice.”

“Jimin, I’m—,” Jin looks around the hallway suspiciously before dragging Jimin into the dorm and slamming the door shut. “I’m being serious, okay?” Jimin’s jaw drops and he begins to sputter.

“But…why her?”

The first time Jimin encountered you was during a particularly late night in the stacks of the library last semester. The year was starting off hard and he was getting his ass kicked in one particular introductory psych class.

At around 1 in the morning, he had one more problem to finish on his take-home exam but was desperately stuck. He remembered seeing someone who he recognized from class sitting in the economics section. He thought it was odd initially. Usually no one sat there because the smell from the librarians’ bathroom often carried over. And no one wanted to study to the smell of coffee shits.

Taking a break, he grabbed his laptop and wandered around the stacks to find the classmate. When he found you, you were in the process of packing up, struggling to get your earphones into the headphone jack of your phone while also carrying a stack of periodicals and a burger from the campus grill, which happened to be leaking ketchup onto your already dingy tracksuit. He approached you carefully.

“Hey, you’re in Professor Kang’s class, right?”

“Huh?”

His voice startled you and you lost your precarious grip on your stuff. The poorly wrapped burger fell to the floor and bled a little onto your white converse. The periodicals fluttered down around your feet.

“Shit, sorry. Lemme help you,” he offered as he put his laptop down. You gasped from your spot already crouched on the ground.

“No, please, it’s really okay. Please, I’m fine, I don’t need—“

But he already had one printout from the stack in his hand and automatically turned it over. When Jimin looks back on the memory, he thinks that this may have been the biggest mistake he’s ever made in his life.

He would later find out after a nervous google search that the paper in his hand, and probably 80 percent of the papers on the ground, were called fursonas. While a handful might have been somewhat decent, most of them were of overly buff rabbits with bubble butts raised for the viewer or tigers fisting weeping, veiny dicks over pastel backgrounds. The one he held was of a duck, or something, with a weight lifter’s body with an obscene expression on its face while tentacles swarmed it from all angles. The implications of what might be happening in the picture made Jimin’s head hurt.

“Oh my god, what the fuck. What the fuck,” he whispered. He was so stunned that he let you rip the page from his hand.

“It’s called fur-centric hentai and its art,” you hissed. The line sounded mechanical and well-practiced if you asked Jimin. He watched you gather the rest of your belongings quickly, burger included, before leaving him crouched in the economics stacks.

Jin snaps his fingers in front of Jimin’s zoned out face only to have him be brought back to reality with a look of slight disgust.

“What’s your problem, fix your face,” Jin snapped.

“I’m just trying to figure out why you chose her, of all people. You remember that story I told you about the Econ stacks. I was so scarred, I got a C on that test.”

“Pretty sure you got a C because you didn’t realize there was a second page of the homework.”

“Well, if she hadn’t thrown her weird animal dicks all over the place, I would have realized there was a back and finished the assignment”

Jin sniffs and drops the blanket he was wearing, before walking over to the kitchen to get a drink, naked as the day he was born. Jimin follows on autopilot.

“Maybe you should stop trying to yuck my yum,”Jin says over his shoulder.

“Oh my god, don’t say it like that. I’m just saying, man. She’s weird. And gross. And more importantly not.Your. Type.” He enunciates each word with a poke to Jin’s bare back while he gets them some beers.

“You think I don’t fucking know that? That’s why I keep it discrete. Why do you think I told you not to come home every Tuesday and Thursday at until after 8:30?”

“You said you had lab.”

“How the hell could I do a lab in our apartment?”

“It…It could happen.”

“I’m a poetry major,” Jin pinches the bridge of his nose at his roommate’s stupidity, “Damnit Jimin.”

Jimin purses his lips when he realizes he might be even dumber than he thought.

“Wait a second, you’ve had lab,” he makes giant air quote gestures, “for, what, 2 months now? You’ve just been fucking her this whole time?”

There’s a beat of silence as Jin takes another swig from his beer. “Yeah,” he finally says. The matter of fact air of his response makes something glitch in Jimin’s brain.

“What the hell, dude? That’s a lot of repeat service. Does she have something on you? Is that why you’re doing this? Did you break an expensive-ass vase or something?” Jimin stops to think, his mind running wild with possibilities. “Holy shit, are you being pimped out?”

“No. God, would you just shut up?” Jin sighs quietly. “I’m sleeping with her so much because she’s the best I’ve ever had.”

Jimin takes a step back at the defeated sincerity in Jin’s tone.

“How? What about that time with that other girl--what was her name?” Jimin runs a hand through his hair trying to remember any name of one of many the girls Jin has had a fling with. “Oh! Irene or something? What about her?”

“I mean, Irene was fine. She gave pretty good head. But last Thursday I thought I came harder than I’ve ever come in my entire life.”

“You ‘thought’?”

Jin looks up wistfully somewhere behind Jimin’s head at the memory. “Well then she came over the following Tuesday and rocked my shit,” he smirks. “And then that was the hardest I’ve ever come in my life.”

“So she gives good head. Who cares? There’s plenty of girls on campus who give good head and also don’t draw furry porn for a living and wash their damn sweatpants.”

“You don’t understand, dude. It’s not just the head. It’s the head, and the handjobs, and the pussy. It’s everything.”

Jimin raises his eyebrows incredulously. “The pussy is better than the handjobs?” He has to try hard not to look impressed. Meanwhile Jin is smilng, almost relieved now that the secret is out and he can talk openly about the mindblowing sex he’d been having.

“The first time she jerked me off, I passed out immediately after I came and woke up late to the class the next afternoon.”

Jimin narrows his eyes but motions with a hand for Jin to continue.

“The first time she blew me I couldn’t even walk afterward.”

“Wait...was that the day you told me you thought you had a sprained ankle? The one that healed after 24 hours?”

“Yep.”

The smug tone and the second stupid lie make Jimin want to rip his hair out. “Why do you lie so much,” he whispered, pain in his voice.

“I wasn’t lying, I really thought I had a sprained ankle.”

“From a blowjob?”

“That’s what I said.”

“What about the, uh, the pussy,” Jimin asks after realizing the FBI probably won’t come through the doors and snipe him for talking about vagina.

“The one time she let me hit it raw, I cried.,” Jin says, absolutely beaming.

“Oh, come on. You can’t be serious.”

“I am, though. I think she was gonna let me do it again today.” Jin closes his eyes and smiles softly while Jimin looks on, unamused.

“So? What happened today? She underperform or something?” There’s a hint of jealousy and a lot of curiosity in his tone, but Jimin would deny it if anyone asked him.

“No, asswipe. She got spooked because you showed up when you weren’t supposed to.”

“Well, sorry for ruining your lies,” Jimin snaps, cracking open his own beer.

“You think this is a joke?” Jin shoves Jimin in the chest roughly. “We didn’t get to finish because of you. Now I have to jerk off with my own hand. That’s pathetic”

“And what were you doing before you met her? Listen to yourself, she’s making you crazy. No one is that good in bed.”

Jin stomps over to the couch and settles down before turning and looking at Jimin over the backboard.

“You know what? You go and sleep with her 3--no--4 times. And if she doesn’t completely fry your brain, I’ll pay for any and all of your takeout for the next month. But If she does, you gotta switch mattresses with me and not come by the dorm until after 10 on Tuesdays and Thursdays from then on.”

“Dude, gross I don’t want your sex soaked mattress. It’s the same as yours anyway. Minus the ten gallons of old jizz on it.”

“No, it’s not. You have that, like, Tempurpedic thing.”

“True,” Jimin nods thoughtfully, “But don’t you think it would be weird if the roommate of the guy she was fucking started trying to get in her pants? Also, I could just lie and say she didn’t do it for me. Then you’d be forced to pay for my food and—Hold on. If she’s so good, why are you so willing to pawn her off to me?”

“Why do you ask so many stupid questions? First of all, she’s not mine just because I’m sleeping with her. I’m just telling you to go see if she’ll let you. I mean, there’s no guarantee. She barely even gave me a shot.”

“She barely gave you a shot? But you’re, like, the campus prince”, more air quotes, “How did this even happen?”

“Well, to make a long story short, we were both high at her sorority and I’d heard rumors about her from Wonho, so I went to…talk to her in her room.”

“Wonho is Wonho, though. He’d fuck anyone if the weed was good.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken, my friend. He has a diverse and sophisticated palate. He knows what he’s talking about when it comes to weed and sex. Once I took him up on his suggestion and she said yes, I never looked back,” Jin says with a dreamy voice.

Jimin watches the back of Jin’s head loll on the sofa. When a soft sigh emerges from where the older man is sitting, Jimin recoils and runs out of the kitchen, away from the couch.

“Are you jerking off right now? Dude. Not cool.”

“Get the fuck out, then. It’s Thursday, which means I’m getting off by 7:30pm and I don’t give a rat’s ass who’s here when it happens.”

“Fine,” Jimin huffs and reluctantly stuffs his feet back into his sneakers where they lie by the door. “I hope your dick chafes.”

Jin purposefully releases another, louder moan and Jimin runs out of the apartment.

“I’ll have an order of the half crispy, half spicy and a large coke. Thanks,” Jimin says to the clerk at the grill before checking his phone for the 8th time in the hour.

8:01 Jimin - Are you done yet?

(8:10 read by Jin)

8:11 Jin - yeah but round two starts soon so

8:11 Jin - *middle finger emoji*

Jimin quickly shuts down his messenger app and opens up Flappy Bird while he sits at a table and waits for his order number to be called.

“Stupid asshole and his stupid dick, kicking me out of the stupid apartment. Fuck you, dickhead,” Jimin mutters to himself.

“What did you just say?”

Jimin’s head whips up at the infantile voice coming from the seat across from him. Jeon Jungkook is sitting at his table, eating a veggie burger. Who the hell orders a veggie burger from a chicken place?

“Were you talking to me,” Jungkook asks again, pushing his bulky glasses up with a finger.

“Jeon, why would I be talking to you? A better question is why the hell are you talking to me?

149 notes · View notes

lonely-bored-writer · 5 years

Text

Really, Again?

Fandom: South Park/Fosters

Summary: Kenny McCormick just got out of Juvie, just to find out his parents were arrested again and he had to go into care. Being the unwanted, trouble making black sheep, no relatives wanted him. So the social Worker calls in none other than the Fosters couple.

Kenny McCormick sighed, looking down at the new scar on his lower stomach. Since the day he turned twelve, his death wounds started leaving scars, lucky for him, most can me hidden my clothes or hair. This particular one came from when the other boys heard he was getting out from Juvie, he was reckless and made enemies, of course they wanted to off him while they still can.

Juvie, a place he's gotten to know the past four years. Fourteen, and he has a rap sheet. Kenny had to admit that the death thing helped when he didn't want some charges on his record, it often disappeared from memory just like his death. All he has on record is shopping lifting charges, and one assault. He yawned, stretching his arms over his heads. His feet moving on autopilot. He was on his way out of this hell hole, he flashed Craig a grin as he passed his cell. Craig returned with a smirk and the flip of a finger.

A snort left him, his blue eyes catching the guard eyeing him curiously. Kenny winked at the guard, a flirty smile slipping onto his bruised face. He bit back a laugh at the blush that over took the guard's face, who promptly looked away. Most guards were curious about him, he's been in and out of the facility for a few years now and he's still awake. He's young, five foot two, pretty face kinda guy but he made it and that gets people thinking. The amount of times he walked around with a bruised face didn't help the rumors that circulated.

If he was being honest, his flirty attitude didn't help either.

Ignoring the fact he wasn't in a changing area, Kenny stripped off his shirt, and pulled on his old parka. Even after six, maybe more, years the old parka still was over-sized and in one piece. He blatantly ignored the shocked look that passed both the counter work, and the guard's face at his marked body, and swiftly changed into his jeans and pulled on his shoes.

There were more reasons than one that he wore that parka.

"Hello Kenneth, I'm Rebecca I'll be covering for your usual." A cheerful redhead greeted him when he left the gated area. He knew immediately she was a social worker, his parents had to be out of commission. "It seems your parents were arrested on a battery charge. Their serving a bit of time but it will take a few months, maybe a year before they are released. We have a possible relative that can take you in, but the paper work will take a few weeks so we needed to find you a home for the time being-"

"Where's Karen and Kevin?" Kenny cut her rambling off, biting back the annoyance he felt. Leave it to his parents to fuck shit up once again. He tugged his hood up, but left the scarf resting loosely around his neck. These people weren't his friends, they wouldn't understand him.

"Karen and Kevin are staying at a relatives home." Rebecca replied, Kenny knew exactly why he wasn't going there. The hit of pity in her eyes and smile told him what he needed to know. He wasn't staying there because no one in his family liked him. He was he black sheep, they didn't want him in their home. "But we found a really nice couple, Stef and Lena that would take you in for the time. It might seem a bit crowded with five kids but trust me, you'll fit in just fine-Oh look, there comes Lena."

Kenny looked up to be met with an African American woman, she seemed to have an optimistic air about her. That almost made him smile, almost. There was a sense of nostalgia inside her brown eyes that had his eyebrows furrow, this wasn't the first time she got a kid from release.

"Hi, I'm Lena Adams" She smiled brightly, even though she hid it better than most people, Kenny could still read the pity off her and the slight tense in her smile. He liked her, but something didn't seem right...

When Lena Adams first caught sight of him, her heart clenched. She saw him before she made her way out of the car. He had a small frame, messy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, bruises and faint scars littered across his face. He wore a parka a few sizes too big, bag blue jeans, and ratty black converse. She could instantly tell he didn't grow up in an easy place, he need a safe place to sleep, something she'll give him.

Her mind kept going back to the day they got Callie. The tears that was in her eyes, the cry for help. Also the fact she got her behind Stef's back... This time was different, they had a week noticed and the family was ready for the new foster child to come in. Stef wanted to come, but Lena figured it best if only one went, not to overwhelm the poor kid so soon.

"Hi, I'm Lena Adams." She smiled brightly, taking in the kid's reaction. She didn't let her smile falter when he didn't make a move to shake her hand, or his tense and guarded way he carried himself, even with the seemingly relaxed shoulders. She's worked with too many kids to not pick up on it, or the fact that it was warm out and the kid was wearing a parka.

"Sorry about him, he can be a little... shy." Rebecca smiled, Lena just nodded in understanding. She met Rebecca a few days before this, Bill had a family ordeal and wouldn't be able to make it. "He's Kenneth McCormick, as I'm sure you already know-"

"Kenny." The small voice cut in, catching Lena's attention. She couldn't stop the genuine smile replacing the large one at what she saw. Kenny's posture relaxed a bit, he had a small smile aimed at her. "I prefer Kenny."

"Alright Kenny." Lena acknowledge, nodding her head towards her car. "I hope you're ready to meet the rest of us."

Kenny didn't know what to expect, but he wasn't expecting this. Two twins, Mariana and Jesus, a bio son, Brandon, Callie and her brother Jude. Kenny was really good at reading people, something he's been getting better at. The story this misfit of teens told him was a bit... concerning? Callie and Brandon had some serious chemistry, whether as history or present, it was there. Jude was definitely gay, not bisexual, definitely gay. Trust Kenny, he usually has a good sense about these things. Stef fit what he had been expecting, although he thought she would be more butch.

The couch was an upgrade from his mattress on the floor, much more comfortable so he couldn't complain about that. Nope, what he wanted to complain about was the odd looks the girl, Callie kept glancing his way as they all settled for dinner.

"Where you from?" Jesus asked, shrugging at the looking his moms gave him. Kenny didn't mind questions, he isn't use to them, but he doesn't mind. Maybe the attention that was focused on him was what bothered him, he was after all so use to being in the background. Out of habit, Kenny tugged to sleeves of his hand-me-down black long sleeve down, having ditched the parka when Lena showed him where he would be sleeping.

"South Park." Kenny answered shortly, ignoring the raised eyebrows it got. South Park was after all the area that most delinquents came from. "It's better than it sounds trust me" Kenny added as an after thought, taking a bite from the chicken served. He couldn't remember the last time he had a home cooked meal.

"Oh, that's pretty." Mariana cut in, motioning to the necklace resting around Kenny's neck. "where'd you get it?" Kenny toyed with it for a moment, remembering when he got it. It was the day Karen found his Mysterion costume in his closet, she had been looking for his old shirts to borrow, and that same day she had found the necklace at thought it fitting. It was a small crystal blue pendant, with a crooked halo resting on it, attached to a simple silver chain. He got it two years ago, and he didn't plan on loosing it.

"My sister gave it to me." Kenny, again, answered shortly, a small faint smile sitting on his face.

"That's sweet of her." Mariana grinned. "Where is she now?" It was after the questioned left her mouth did she realize just how bad the question really is but Kenny answered without a second thought.

"At my uncle's house." Kenny mused, ripping his chicken to pieces with his fork. His stomach not used to eating so much, if anything. "They didn't have room for me while they waited for my parents to get back."

"Why are you in the system?" Callie finally asked the question burning everyone's thoughts. Everyone looked at Kenny worriedly. Kenny shrugged, noticing Brandon's eyes flickering to the scars looped around his neck.

"Poor family, parents do stupid shit to try and get money, get arrested, here I am." He's answering remained short and direct. He made sure to leave out the point about how his father's alcoholism, or his mother's drug addiction, or the abusive nature of his family. Conversation dwindled from there, small, unimportant topics that Kenny chimed in only when asked something.

It was when dinner was being cleared and people had headed off to bed that Kenny turned to Lena and Stef.

"Can I make a call?" Kenny asked, motioning to the house phone he spotted earlier. "I have a few friends that are probably worried sick about me..."

"Of course you can, honey." Lena nodded, shrugging off Lena's worried look. Kenny typed in the number he remembered, ignoring Stef's sudden departure.

"Hello?" The confused voice of a long term friend rang form the phone after a few rings.

"Really dude?"

"Kenny?! Dude, when did you get out? Where are you? Cartman is so much more of an ass when you aren't around."

"I got out a few hours ago Kyle." Kenny shrugged, sitting at he table, not caring that Lena could hear him. "I'm at another foster home, gonna be stuck here until dad and mom get out of jail. Battery assault this time. I doubt anyone else would take me in."

"Another one? Wait, are they anything like those agnostic freaks right?"

"No." Kenny laughed, shaking his head. As much as he hated it at the time, it was the butt end of more than a few jokes for them. "Not those Dr. Pepper loving cucks. It's a les-couple, they got five other kids."

"No fantasizing about them, Kenny."

"Nah, not my type. Anyways dude, I gotta run but tell the others I say hey and that I'll be back soon."

"Yea dude, be careful... Wait, where's your parka? I'm not use to hearing your voice."

"Don't worry, I've got it. It's hotter in this part. Bye, night."

"Bye man, stay safe."

"So, even though you should only be staying for a few weeks, you will be attending school. Since you and Jude are the same age, he will be helping you out in showing you the school. Lena'll work to see if you guys can get the most classes together. She's the vice principal at the charter school our kids go to, Anchor beach." Stef explained. Kenny bit back a sigh, he really hoped he didn't have to deal with school, much less a charter school. They focused too much on student academics and shit. He wasn't in the mood for this.

"We also want you to know that if you ever need to talk, we are all ears for you." Lena popped in, resting a hand on her wife's shoulder, and offered Kenny an encouraging smile. "I've read your file and I know things are difficult for you, so I just want you to know that we are here, and if you don't feel comfortable talking to one of us, the kids will be happy to be a shoulder for you."

"uh, thanks..." Kenny nodded, tugging on the sleeves of his shirt. Sensing his discomfort from the topic, Stef decided it was best to change it.

"I hope the couch is okay for you." Stef offered. "I know it's not as good as a bed, but considering everything it was the best we could do. If you stay for longer than intended then maybe we could think of an air mattress-"

"The couch is great." Kenny cut in with a toothy grin, Stef noticed the chipped front tooth. "It's better than my bed at home." At that moment, Stef decided she was going to have Lena give her this kid's file and get to know a little about what he's gone through.

"Wait, so there's evidence and probable idea that there is abuse happening in that home, but the kids keep going back?!" Stef looked up from just the first paragraph of the file to her wife, disbelief in her eyes.

"The kids won't say who it was they hurt them." Lena had a sad look in her eyes, resting a hand on her wife's knee. "From the medical exam, it looks like Kenny's the worse one out of all of them."

"I can see that." Stef scoffed, shaking her head. She couldn't believe what she was reading or even how the McCormick couple kept getting custody back. "He had scars littered all over his body, ranging from bullet wounds, to burns, to cuts... Is he seeing a therapist?" Her train of thought shifted when she noticed to section including mental health. The kid had a self-destructive behavior, doing anything and everything that could risk his life or get him in trouble. Not to mention the little not of possible direct self-harm. The sad sigh that left Lena, answered her question before the counter-part even spoke.

"No, he refuses. When ever they try to get him to talk he blocks them out. No one can get anything out of him." Lena settled herself in bed, resting her head against Stef's shoulder. "In the time he's here, I want to try and help him. He need it, Stef. I couldn't just let him slide by and end up in another bad situation..."

"I get it, love." Stef cut into the silence that followed the statement, understanding her wife completely. "While he is here, we'll do everything in our power to help him."

Stef yawned, it was three in the morning and something woke her. Letting her eyes adjust, she saw Lena still sleeping peacefully beside her. With a sigh, she pulled herself out of bed and made her way to the kitchen for a drink. Once down the stairs, she glanced into the other room and froze. The couch was empty. Cursing softly under her breath, she walked into the room, looking for any sign that the kid was still there.

A sigh of relief escaped her at the sight of a small form, curled up on the floor, clad in an over-sized orange parka. She walked over, taking in the fact that Kenny left the pillows alone but bunched up the blanket for a pillow. She assumed the parka was his makeshift blanket.

"Hey..." She whispered, tapping his shoulder. In an instant blue eyes sprung open and he sat up, almost knocking her off balance. "Hey, it's okay. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright." Kenny blinked confused, before he realized his spot on the floor. Stef took in the messy blonde hair, bags under bright blue eyes, and exhausted form in. She felt her heart clench ever so slightly.

"Uh, sorry..." He mumbled, and hand moving to scratch the back of his head. "I'm use to sleeping on the floor... Takes some time to get use to, you know?" Ever since Karen started having nightmares, Kenny has been giving up his mattress to her and 'standing guard' against any monsters that might come in.

"It's okay, I get it." Stef sat herself cross-legged in front of the small teen. "What's your family like?" She asked, leaning back on the coffee table. She noticed the small smile sliding onto the teen's face and was glad she asked the right thing.

" There's my brother and sister, Kevin and Karen. Karen's a sweetheart, I take care of her. She's so young, and innocent, I want to keep her like that for as long as I can." Kenny smiled, a light sparking in his eyes. Stef couldn't help but smile at the amount of care and love Kenny had for her. "Kevin's the complete opposite. His a fucking bastard. He doesn't spend a shit ton of time at home, so it balances out." Even with the crude way he said it, Stef knew he cared about his brother the same. Choosing to ignore the language since Kenny was being open, she instead opted for another question.

"How about your parents?"

"Assholes, but they try." The shrug, and head tilt downwards told Stef to back off. Stef handled enough cases of abused, or neglected kids to know when to back off and when it was okay to push.

"You called a friend right? What about them?" Give she had snooped on the call, she didn't know much about them from the conversation." A laugh left Kenny, and just like that the two stayed up exchanging stories. Kenny going on about the crazy things he and his friends went through, most that Stef brushed off as an active and choosing to ignore how this teen was as crude as a sailor, while Stef popped in with a few pranks, or incidents that happened in the time that they were all together.

Stef was warming up to the small, vulgar teen and vice versa.

#fanficiton #fanfic #southpark #the fosters #fosters #kenny mccormick #kenny goes to fostercare again #fosters foster a kid #south park kenny #sp kenny #some angst #Really Again?#Kenny dies #like always #scars #tw touchy subjects

8 notes · View notes

softmoxymuffin · 5 years

Text

Your Boys

was feeling really anxious and depressed and lonely and i didn’t really know how to express it... so i wrote a short drabble about my favorite boys

nothing naughty... just a little angst and a little fluff to get me through the day..

hopefully you guys like it though

***

Dean lied down on his hotel bed, which he had been doing for what felt like hours by now. Checking his phone on the nightstand he realizes it had only been 15 minutes. He was sorely tempted to throw the damn thing against the wall, as if it were its fault that he was restless as all hell.

Tonight’s show was so-so. Which had been the theme for the past few weeks. He’d even argued for more a few months now. He sits up against his headboard and runs his hands tiredly against his face and now much shorter hair.

It was just an in-house show. Nothing too demanding. He came out. He scowled. He insulted the city they were in. He and Seth got into it… yada-yada-yada. Then he held the championship belt over his head like a prize.

He looks at it, half-hazardly tucked away in his duffle bag where it had been the second he got in the locker room. It wasn’t first time he had held the Intercontinental Championship belt before. It wasn’t the first belt he had ever had. It wasn’t going to be his last, God willing, but he had thought having it would at least feel somewhat rewarding. These days he can’t even really look at it.

He had lost 8 months of his career due to injury. For all that time he had only one thing on his mind and that was to get back. He got surgery, he got therapy, he got training. He almost had to learn how to move again, all just to get back to the very place where he had nearly lost the ability to.

Now, he’s finally back and almost feels just as empty as when he was gone.

He picked up his phone again to text ‘you still up?’

A quick ping gave him his answer ‘yeah, why?’

Hurried taps on the keys and he answered ‘scoot over, be there in 5’

Dean rolled out of bed and put on a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt. He pocketed his room key and phone. He left his suite with nothing else and made the short elevator ride one floor up to Seth’s room.

He made a light knock on the door and a few seconds later it had opened to his friend rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Said you were up?” he asked concernedly, keeping his fidgeting hands in his sweatshirt pockets.

“Was dozing off when-” he tried and failed to hide a yawned. “-you texted.”

“Fuck, sorry man. I can-” he motioned to go back where he came.

“Don’t sweat it man.” He reassured. “What’s wrong?”

He bounced his weight from one foot to the other, as he tried to muster through the hint of embarrassment at how stupid his problem was at that moment. The only thing that finally prompted him to answer was the tired worry he could see on his friend’s face.

“Can’t sleep.” He answered sheepishly.

For a microsecond he thought Seth was definitely going to slam his door to his face. What kind of grown ass man would be knocking on a buddy’s door coz of something like this? Then that microsecond passed and the younger man had opened door wider and motioned to him to get inside the dark room.

The blond was just about to say his thanks when the other man had made a soft shh-ing sound. He led his guest deeper into the room and pointed to a second bed with a quietly snoring Irishman there. Dean mouthed an apology which he doubt Seth could even see in the dark.

The Armenian made his way to one side of the bed as he had made his way to the other side, and they both quietly climbed in and lied down.

After years in the independent circuit, sharing a bed was pretty common. Actually, not having a bed was worse so sharing wasn’t even that bad. But beyond the indies, this had actually become more of a thing when Shield started.

On the rare occasion that beds were scarce, it was usually Dean and Seth who took to sharing. Roman would be nearly as wide as the bed. Sometimes there were couches. Sometimes they rock-paper-scissored to avoid the bathtub. But on those occasions they did have to lay side to side, it became something they had even welcomed.

“How’s the tri?” Seth had whispered, his eyes not leaving the ceiling above them.

“It’s fine.” Dean replied in a similar fashion. “How’s the knee?”

“Lil achy, but iced it right after.”

“Sorry,”

“Not your fault. It had been achy before I even got in the ring.”

“I’ll lay off it next time.”

“You’re gonna take Cole’s favorite excuse away from him.” He snickered.

Dean chuckled. He could feel their shoulders just shrugging together. They hadn’t been this close in months. They have been all over each other during shows and matches, but they haven’t been close like this in so long. Creatives hadn’t even allowed them to drive nor room together this whole time, fearing that fans might catch them and get their hopes up with a reunion.

Dean has a passing thought of how spoiled he’s gotten with his boys. All those years grinding in the indie scene alone. Having friends and a smattering of coworkers here and there but ultimately on alone for most of it.

Starting off with as a unit just days, then weeks, then months, and even years together turned Dean. He had been hesitant at the start. He had tried to keep his distance, and not get too attached. He mainly worked out on his own and even ate a lot on his own. But he thinks their respect for his space was what finally got him to warm up to them the way he has. To see them practically as family now. Brothers.

“Have you talked to Roman?” he asked shyly.

Seth sighed, trying to hide some worry “I did… called him earlier. You?”

“A couple of days ago.” He confessed. “Didn’t wanna bother him.”

“You should call him.” He encouraged. “You wouldn’t be bothering him at all. Think he misses your antics.”

Dean smiles at that. Roman leaving was a huge blow to everyone. He’d like to think Seth was taking it harder than he was, but he’s starting to think maybe he had been fooling himself. Though the whole knife-to-the-back angle meant they weren’t only parting ways with Roman, but parting ways from each other again kinda sucked, they knew Shield wasn’t Shield without the Samoan. But it didn’t make their break any easier.

“I miss him too…” Seth admitted, as if he had heard Dean’s inner monologue, in this case might have shared the same thoughts even.

Dean sighed, but was thankful for Seth never really needing him to say it outright. It was already painfully obvious. He may not be strong enough to admit it even to his closest friend, but he could pretend to be strong. He was good at that.

“We’ll get him back,” he said with a voice with all the certainty he could muster. “…soon.”

A silence fell between them. Only the lull of the air conditioner and snoring from Seth’s oblivious roommate could be heard. The two men just lied there letting words go unsaid, having always had a good understanding of one other. They both knew they’re gonna get through this together, even if they had to drag each other to sleep like this.

***

Since he had moved to the U.S., Finn had a lot of time to adjust. Unlike other people, he had developed a good sense of his sleeping pattern. His routine these days was consistent enough that he could get a full nights rest and wake fairly easily on his own body clock, without the use of any alarm. This was a blessing to anyone fortunate enough to room with the Irishman.

He had pushed himself up with a groggy form of a push-up, and got himself up into sitting position on the edge of his bed. He turned on the lamp on his side of the room and made his way to the bathroom. He had been so preoccupied that it was only when he got back to his bed when he realized the sight in front of him.

The bed next to his, which he was pretty sure had only one occupant before he had fallen asleep last night, now had two. Though his lamp barely lit his own little corner of the room, Finn was could clearly see who the two men were.

On the bed was Dean sleeping on his side facing Finn. His arm was half dangling over the edge. His legs bent to fit in the too-small mattress. A strong tan arm slung over his waist, an arm Finn was certain it belonged to his roommate Seth who was laying in the same position behind the other sleeping man. His bearded face tucked into the older man’s neck.

The image made the young man smile. Knowing both men and seeing them go through what have had had to go through these past months, Finn had wanted to leave the two alone in peace. But not without taking a quick and quiet snapshot on his phone.

Hoping he had the other man’s number in his contact, he had attached the photo to a short message and sent it to their common friend.

Somewhere down in Florida, Roman would be able to open the message, see the photo, and smile as he would read ‘your boys’.

#blagamuffin writes stuff #dean ambrose #seth rollins #finn balor #roman reigns #angst #fluff #bed sharing #bro comforting #boys who cant express themselves #me not being able to express myself #some sad truth in that one #im sorry #tell me what you gusy think #wwe fanfiction

24 notes · View notes

thebashfulpoet · 6 years

Text

no other name (falling off my lips)

A/N: So I was sitting here minding my own business listening to music as I was avoiding doing hw when I was hit with the inspiration for some Angsty Andreil from my SN&E universe. So I did it. Enjoy the pain while I cry and finish up the last of my hw

[Read on Ao3]

Neil sits in the empty studio and stares at the ivory keys beneath his fingertips. They trip and glide over the white and black bars but never press down hard enough to make a sound — almost too afraid of what will happen if he does. The piano was never his instrument, not in any way that mattered at least. No, it was always Andrew’s, a piece of the drummer only few got to see and even fewer knew how deep that part of him went. Maybe that’s why he sits alone tucked away in the empty piano room at Fox Records. It’s the only way he can feel close to him.

It’s stupid. Neil shouldn’t need an instrument to feel close to the person who made him real — to the person that breathed Neil Josten to life and told him to stay. But the fact is that Neil hasn’t seen or heard from Andrew in almost two months. Not since Andrew had stormed out of their room after the biggest argument they’ve ever had. He could still hear the ringing of the door slamming closed and the rev of the engine and Andrew’s sleek black car peels out of the driveway and races down their quiet suburban neighborhood.

At first, he just thought that Andrew needed to cool his head — take his space where he needed it after Neil pushed too hard for something he wasn’t ready to give. It was fine. Neil couldn’t begrudge him that, especially when he found his own blood boiling at the mere thought of looking at his boyfriend’s seemingly indifferent face after that particular argument — after he tore himself open only to have it shoved back in his face. He was fine. So, he pulled on a pair of running shoes and lost himself in the streets surrounding their home and city until the sun sets and the sky darkens too much for him to continue. When he gets back, Andrew is still nowhere to be found and his phone is silent. That should have been his first sign that something was wrong. Andrew may disappear from time to time but he always texted Neil, even if just to tell him to leave him alone. The silence was deafening.

But Neil didn’t heed that whisper in the back of his head, still too angry at himself and Andrew to think any more of it. It was a big argument. Maybe Andrew just needed more time to figure his own thoughts out; god knew Neil still did. He showered and went to bed, ignoring how the bed felt too big with Andrew there on the other side of the mattress and too cold without the warmth of his back pressed against a broad chest. When his eyes closed he thought to himself that tomorrow he would talk to him again. That he would fix this between them.

He didn’t know that tomorrow would never come. That he would wait day after day with no response from Andrew, no call, no text, nothing. He tried calling only to find that the number couldn’t be reached at this time. Then Neil really started panicking. Clutching his phone tightly in a fist, he rushes out of their room and flies down the stairs until he’s skidding into the kitchen where Nicky is cooking. The tall man startles, nearly tossing the contents of the pan onto the ground as he jumps.

“Jesus Christ Neil!” he gasps, putting the pan down and turning the flame on low. “What’s-”

“Have you heard from Andrew?”

His brows furrow, “Not since Friday. I just thought that he was off on one of his self-isolated road trips.”

“Friday, you’re sure?” Neil urges him.

“Yeah. He sent a text saying that he was taking a break and not to look for him.”

Neil runs through his hair. “Fuck.”

“What’s going on?” Worry starts to mar his face, but Neil is already turning away, running to the only other person who Andrew would have contacted.

He finds Aaron sitting on the couch with his phone glued to his hand like always. So irrational part of him wonders if that was Andrew on the other end of the screen no matter the fact that Neil knows the twin have texted each other only a handful of times in the two years he’s known them. Still, he wonders.

“Are you talking to Andrew?”

“No.” Aaron doesn’t even bother to look up from his screen as he types away at a message.

“Are you sure?”

He sneers, “I think I would know if I was texting my brother or not.”

Neil wants to tear his hair out. Or Aaron’s. “When did you hear from him last?”

“God what’s with the third degree? Go bug someone else.”

“Aaron,” Neil all but growls, “When did you last hear from him?”

“Fuck you.”

Neil dives for him then and he would have made it if not for Nicky coming out of the kitchen hot on Neil’s tail and yanking him back just in time. Aaron finally looks away from his phone and stares at Neil like he’s finally lost his mind. Maybe he had.

“Neil calm down!” Nicky tries to push him further away, but he pulls at his arms.

“I swear to fucking god Aaron, if you do not tell me right now, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Aaron gives him a bored look. “What did you lose your boyfriend? Maybe he finally got tired of you.”

Neil almost breaks free.

“Jesus Aaron really?” Nicky sighs exasperatedly. “Kevin! Get your ass in here before you have to find a new singer!”

Kevin ambles in from upstairs, looking for all intents and purposes like he just crawled out of bed despite it being nearly 11 am. “What the fuck is going on now?”

“Well as you can clearly see I need your help!”

Kevin looks between Neil and Aaron before turning around and going back upstairs.

“KEVIN!”

In Nicky’s moment of distraction, Neil breaks free from his grasp and grabs Aaron, yanking him off the couch and hauling him so they meet eye to eye. “If you do not tell me what I want to know right now-”

“You’ll what?” he sneers, pulling at Neil’s grip.

Neil only tightens it. “I was the son of a serial killer that liked to torture people for hours before he granted them even a thought towards mercy. I could kill you in ways that you could only image.”

Aaron pales and the sneer slips slightly.

“Neil,” Nicky whispers, voice shaking.

He ignores him. “Now when did you last talk to him?”

For a moment, he doesn’t think Aaron will answer him — that his stubborn nature and ill regard for Neil would keep his mouth silent. To his surprise, he answers. “Yesterday.”

Neil lets him go, the single word enough to open the world beneath his feet and leave him feeling. “What?”

“I said I heard from him yesterday. He texted to say that he’s going to be gone for a bit and to bug Renee if I needed anything since he wouldn’t be reachable.”

Neil’s world bottoms out. Andrew was gone. Gone. And he left his family to Renee, not Neil. Trusted Renee to keep them safe not Neil. The message hit him like a ton of bricks: painful and clear. Andrew couldn’t trust Neil to do that job anymore, nor did he want him to.

Nick was trying to say something to him, but the words fell on deafened ears. All he could hear was that slamming door and the rev of an engine. Over and over again. He’s flying out the door before he even registers moving — feet slapping concrete and sending shocks up his shin until it becomes painful. His lungs heave and constrict in his chest for the too little air squeezing past his throat. This time even when the sky darkens, he runs and runs until the sun peaks over the horizon again and he has to crawl to keep moving. When he gets home their bedroom is still empty and his phone is silent.

No one hears from Andrew for two months. Kevin is pissed, seething about the fact that they had to halt the progress on their next album with their drummer missing. Nicky looks worried and flickers between mother-henning the band and locking himself in his room to skype with Erik in hushed German. The Foxes range between worried (Dan, Matt, and Wymack) and apathetic (Seth and Allison) with only Renee giving him a sad pitiful look whenever he catches her eyes. Even Aaron starts to look a bit worried, but Neil can’t bring himself to care.

Staying in the house hurts — hurts more than anything his father or Lola ever did to him as a child or adult. He spent hours staring at their empty bed from a spot where he curled up on the floor since he couldn’t bring himself to sleep in it alone. The glass doors to the balcony became impassable and the empty spot in the garage opened a pit in his chest he thought he long since filled. After the first month, he gives up and moves onto Matt and Dan’s couch after the two of them offer him a place in their new apartment together.

He stares at the keys again, this time pressing one until a soft ping fills the room. The sound breaks something in him and he presses another. And then another and another until the room fills with a simple melody.

The piano was never his, but Andrew taught him some of the basics during the late nights when neither of them could sleep. It was never anything more than a couple of chords here or there or how to move his hands across the keys — even if they never moved half as fast as his. He loved those nights. Loved seeing Andrew lose himself in the music that once meant so much to him, even if it meant that no one else would.

He plays the melody over again, and then another time, adding a few complexities as he goes along until he can feel the hint of a song scratching at the back of his mind. His fingers fly and the music twists itself into words in his throat until he starts humming along trying to decipher them. When he opens his mouth, the words come pouring out.

Wish I could, I could've said goodbye I would've said what I wanted to Maybe even cried for you

He didn’t know. He couldn’t have known that when Andrew left he would never get to say goodbye. Even when he thought he had seconds left, he always knew he would spend them saying goodbye and now that he can’t-

If I knew, it would be the last time I would've broke my heart in two Tryin' to save a part of you

He should have kept his mouth shut. Should have never said a damn thing about it. But he was so tired. Tired of lying. Tired of pretending that he was nothing to Andrew. Tired of people thinking that they were nothing.

Don't want to feel another touch Don't wanna start another fire Don't wanna know another kiss No other name falling off my lips

He didn’t want anyone else. Didn’t want to pretend that he could want anyone else. It was just Andrew. It would always be Andrew. No one else. Never anyone else.

To another stranger Or let another day begin Won't even let the sunlight in No, I'll never love again

And he ruined it all. Ruined it because he didn’t want to hide anymore. He wanted the world to know that he was Andrew’s, even if Andrew would never be his. He wanted to scream it to the world, to take Andrew’s hand in his own and face all the shit the world threw at them. Because with Andrew at his side he felt like he could take on anything. But he pushed too hard.

I won't I won't I swear I can't I wish I could but I just won't

He did the one thing he promised he never would do, he asked for too much. Too much and too fast for what Andrew was capable of giving him. Of what Andrew wanted to give to him. But he grew greedy. Greedy enough to want for something Andrew had told him from the beginning that he could never have. And yet he pushed, ruining it for good.

I'll never love again

His fingers slip and bang against the keys, the sharp noise jarring and dissonant to the soft melody still lingering in the air. He moves to start again, but his vision blurs with tears and a choked sob fills his throat. Hands curl into fists and bang onto the keys, filling the room with the same discord and disarray that echoes in his chest.

“Oh Neil,” Matt whispers from his spot in the doorway, but Neil can’t bring himself to look at him (too ashamed of the tears being spilled from his own doing). He feels a heavy hand fall softly on his shoulder, gently guiding him into a solid stomach. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Neil doesn’t say a word even after hours pass and Matt drives him back home. He doesn’t go back to the studio again.

Two days later Neil’s phone pings with a text message. It’s the middle of the night and his phone sits on the coffee table just out of his reach, the bright light from the screen cutting a path of blue light in the otherwise darkened room. For a second he debates letting it sit there unanswered, almost positive it’s Nicky trying to cheer him up or ask when he’ll come home (as if he still had a home there without Andrew). But that same stupid part of his brain holds out hope that maybe even now it will be Andrew.

It takes a few tries, but he manages to slide the phone off the table and into his hands, eyes squinting as the bright light shifts to blare in his face rather than the ceiling. He almost drops it when the name registers in his mind. Andrew Minyard. He stops, looks again, looks away, and then check again. The same still stares back at him. With shaky fingers, he swipes the screen open and clicks on the message.

There are no words, no explanations for where he has gone or why he left without a fucking word, just a simple link sitting in a small blue bubble with a still of a black title card. He clicks on the video only for it to open in his YouTube app. It was uploaded on an anonymous account and the thumbnail was a black background with the words For Him written in italic script. Neil hits play and waits for it to finish buffering.

It’s a video of himself, sitting in that empty piano room at Fox Records as he belts out the painful melody that took him over. The video is shot from his back so you couldn’t see the tears falling down his cheeks but the waver in his voice gave him away all the same, each intake a break stuttering slightly and his body trembling as it sways back and for. It captures most of the song ending with that same jarring key. Just before the video cuts out there is a soft “Oh Neil” that tells him just who is responsible for this latest video. His eyes dart down to the view count to see that it’s reached millions.

The phone buzzes again, this time with a single word. Studio.

Neil is off the couch and out the door in seconds, not bothering with even shoes or a coat despite the chilly autumn evening air. He runs faster and harder than he’s had to in a long time but its all worth it when he bursts through those doors to see Andrew standing there in the lounge. Dark circles rest under his eyes and tense shoulders betray his calm demeanor even as he turns to meet Neil’s gaze.

“You’re here,” Neil breathes, feeling like it’s the first full breath he’s had in months.

Andrew nods.

“You left.” Neil continues, stepping further into the room until they are less than a foot apart.

He nods again.

Neil wants to reach out and touch him, but he doesn’t — too afraid that if he does then Andrew will disappear again. “And you’re back? For good?”

This time there is a hesitation before he nods tightly, chin jerking like the question left him stilted and unhinged.

“Yes or no?” A quiet yes falls from those lips in a raspy voice from disuse and Neil feels something click into place. He falls into Andrew’s space, slotting their foreheads together and tangling his fingers in those soft blonde locks. Something else clicks into place.

“You left.” It comes out choked and small, even as he pulls away to meet Andrew’s eyes. “You left.”

“Yes.” He says it simply because it was. He left Neil behind.

“You left. Without a word or a text for two months.” This time Andrew didn’t bother replying. “What the fuck Andrew? What the actual fuck.”

Neil pulls away more firmly, anger boiling in his chest as the shock wears from his system. “What the actual fuck.”

Andrew crosses his arms. “What do you want me to say? I left.”

“Exactly!” It comes out near hysterical. “You left. Just like that. You asked me to stay and then you left me.”

Andrew’s jaw ticks but he says nothing.

“What was I supposed to do Andrew?” Neil grasps for understanding. “We had one argument and then you just disappeared for two months without a single fucking word. What was I supposed to do?! Did you even plan to come back.”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Neil seethes, “Fuck that you do know. Were you going to come back?”

Andrew meets his gaze head-on. “I don’t know.”

Neil deflates, knowing the real answer. “You weren’t.” Andrew says nothing. “God, I don’t even get a reason why?”

“Why what Neil,” Andrew sighs.

“Why we have one argument about me wanting to go public about us and you drop off the fucking earth!” Neil explodes walking away. “Why that, Drew. Why fucking that.”

Andrew is silent for a beat, then two. “Because I can’t give you that.”

“Then why didn’t you just say-”

“I did, but you pushed. You pushed and I could see that you would keep pushing even if it took years until I was ready.”

“That’s right. I would have. I would have waited until the end of fucking time for that, so why push me away?” Neil’s voice is raw against his throat and he can feel tears sting the corners of his eyes but he pushes on. “Why.”

“Because you deserve better.”

Neil blinks. “Excuse me?”

But Andrew is done talking. “You heard me.”

“No, I don’t think I did.” Neil whips around, “Because it sounded like you just said that I deserve better. Whatever the fuck that means.”

Andrew remains silent. Neil explodes.

“Fuck what I deserve. Fuck what everyone including you thinks I deserve. I decide that.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I won’t. And you know what? I fucking deserve to be happy. I deserve to have someone that makes me feel like I’m an actual person. I deserve someone that makes me feel as alive as music does. That’s what I deserve, Andrew.”

His jaw locks, “Then what are you waiting for?”

“I’m waiting for him to say that he deserves that too. Because I can’t fight that battle for him as much as I fucking want to.” He crosses the space between them. “I fucking love you, Drew. More than I’ve ever thought I could love another person and I just want you to love you too. No more of this ‘deserve’ bullshit. Decide for yourself.”

They are inches apart now, breath intermingling and burning amber meeting icy blue.

“Yes or no, Andrew?” The question is soft off his lips.

A moment. Then two. Then three. Finally, “Yes.”

Andrew’s lips slot against Neil’s and it feels like coming home. It feels like first burning him alive and water drowning his every breath until all he can taste and think of is Andrew’s lips and the thundering beat of his chest matching the one in Andrews. They stay like that for eternity or maybe a few seconds before they must pull away for air, neither straying far from the other.

“Don’t leave again,” Neil whispers into the space between them. “Don’t leave me again.”

Andrew doesn’t answer, simply presses their lips together until his head becomes dizzy from the lack of oxygen. Hours later they would curl up on the lounge’s couch, Andrew pressed to the back cushions with Neil half pressed to his side and half on his chest. The lights are dimmed and the steady beat of Andrew’s heart lulls him to sleep no matter how long he tries to hold onto consciousness. Just before he slips away, Andrew’s arms tighten around Neil’s torso and he feels the rumbles of his chest as he speaks.

It sounded a lot like, “I promise.”

#andreil #andreil ff #aftg #aftg ff #my writing #SN&E #something nothing and everything #angst #band au #andreil band au #sad songs #andreil fan fiction #andreil fanfic #aftg fanfic

45 notes · View notes

smolgaysnake · 7 years

Text

ftwd clarkcest; fast car

very light clarkcest, alicia centric. when alicia is seventeen, nick asks her to run away with him.

Alicia turns seventeen on a Tuesday. She buys herself a slurpee from the convenience store and splurges on takeout after school from the sushi place all the way downtown. She eats cross legged on her bed and takes a bath with the bottle of wine Madison keeps hidden behind the spice rack in the pantry. She doesn’t even towel off, just walks all drippy and naked through the hall to her room and passes out pleasantly tipsy atop her bedspread.

She wakes up when her alarm beeps and slaps it off before rolling over and tugging the blanket over her hip. The front door shutting wakes her and she sits up, fumbling for a sleep shirt that hangs to mid thigh. She stumbles to the living room, rubbing her sleepy eyes, and Nick is half on half off the couch, looking at his shoes with a perplexed expression. “Hey,” she says, yawning and going to the kitchen to get him some orange juice.

He looks over at her. “Isn’t it a school day?”

Alicia finds one of the sunny delight bottles Madison’s latest boyfriend bought her, like she’s a schoolgirl in pigtails instead of a year and a half away from freedom. “Well, if I had any idea Father Nicholas, patron saint of truancy, was going to appear in my living room….”

“That makes me sound like Santa Claus. And it’s my living room too. Mother dearest says so all the time.”

“Shocking,” Alicia mutters, wandering over to flop on the couch next to him and shove at his feet until he sits up and takes the juice from her. He drains it in a few big gulps and tosses the empty bottle over his shoulder, where it bounces on the floor and leaves drips on the carpet. He rolls over and drops his head into her lap, where she pets at his hair with her fingers and pulls a face at the grease. “How long are you staying?”

Nick hums, non-committal. “Make me lunch?”

Alicia makes instant noodles, standing at the stove and watching the water boil, poking at the rectangle of dried noodles with Nick draped over her back and nosing at her ear to make her shiver when he blows it in. She swats at him but doesn’t make any other moves to dislodge him--his weight feels too slight for his frame but it’s still warm and heavy reassuring.

“You need a shower,” she tells him at the table, watching him slurp at the broth and splatter the front of his threadbare shirt.

“You don’t enjoy my natural musk?” He smiles at her with his mouth full and she hates how it softens her.

“You smell like smack whore,” she tells him, and drops his bowl in the sink.

Nick has been in the shower for three hours and Alicia needs to pee. Finally, huffing, she barges into the bathroom. “Don’t look,” she snaps, shoving her pants down and sitting on the toilet, ripping a few squares of paper off the roll.

The curtain rustles. “Baby sister need a potty break?”

“How is there even hot water left?” She stands and flushes vindictively, enjoying his little yelp. She’s washing her hands when his head pokes out.

“Cold and then hot. Junkie tricks.”

“Amazing,” Alicia says, scathing, and slams the door on her way out.

She takes a nap and watches television and unplugs the answering machine so the registrar message from her school about her absence won’t be recorded. She sees Nick leave out of the corner of her eye and doesn’t try to stop him.

When they’re alone Madison doesn’t care if she eats on the couch or in her room or even standing up over the sink. When they have company or when Nick is home they eat at the table like a real family. Alicia doesn’t mind it when Nick is there, because she has someone to roll her eyes with and kick under the table and smirk at over the mashed potatoes, but she hates it when they play happy families for a coworker or an aunt or a boyfriend. Matt told her once that it was nice her mother made time for family meals and she was furious with him for almost a week.

So when she comes out to poke in the fridge and scrounge through the takeout she’s surprised to see the plates stacked on the dining table. “Susie Homemaker strikes again,” Nick whispers, right into her ear, and she leaps into the air.

“Asshole,” she curses, and socks him in the shoulder.

“She made the meatloaf herself,” Nick tells her, and she gets the ketchup out of the fridge. His smile is floaty and he swallows too much and he smells like vinegar. She uses the last of it on her own plate and passes him the empty bottle with a smile that suggests butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth and when he glares she feels almost cheerful.

Alicia wakes up when someone crawls into her bed. She screams into the hand over her mouth and kicks her heel back hard. “Ow,” Nick curses from behind her, “jesus christ leesh.”

She bites his fingers until he moves his hand. “Fuck you, Nick, what the fuck--”

“Come on,” he says, and slides off the mattress. He wobbles on his feet and doesn’t turn on any lights and she follows him down the hall in barefeet. “I packed you a bag,” he whispers, far too loud and unsteady. He points at a duffel lying by the front door. The keys to their second car is dangling from one finger.

“You’re crazy,” she tells him. “I’m going back to bed.”

He catches by the wrist and pulls her into him. Leans his head on her shoulder and nuzzles at her cheek. “Won’t you come with me,” he coos, “please, Leesh? For a few days. Like when we were little, remember?”

Alicia hesitates. “I remember,” she admits, soft. She remembers being twelve and reading about abduction on the internet with the second tab a dictionary site for the words she didn’t understand. She remembers learning that there’s a genetic component for addiction, something in their shared DNA that makes them weak. “Okay,” she says, and carries her own bag to the car.

The car wavers in its lane and Alicia doesn’t wear her seatbelt and watches the bumpers of the cars around them and wonders if Madison would mention her at all in their shared obituary.

They stop at a flop motel and she clicks the locks before he can get out. “No,” she says, because she’s lived this long without sleeping in a bed of roaches and she’d like to continue the trend.

He goes to a nicer hotel and holds the door open for her. “Only the best for you,” he says, and when the clerk assumes they’re a couple he just smirks at her.

It’s a single queen sized bed and Nick goes to the vending machine and comes back with the candy he knows she likes and they watch The Outlaw Josey Wales and when he goes into the bathroom with his sleeves rolled up and comes back with them tugged down to his wrist she’s too tired to do anything except crawl into his lap and let him braid her hair all crooked, the same way he did when she was in elementary school until she learned how to do it herself at recess from the other girls.

She wakes up in the middle of the night spooned against him and she can feel him against the cleft of her ass and the small of her back. His arm is heavy around her waist and his hand has slipped under her shirt. He smells like booze and dope and when he noses under her ear she tips her head back so he can rest his cheek against the side of her neck.

Alicia drives and when Nick asks where they’re going she ignores him. She’d woken up to open the duffel he’d packed her and found sixteen pairs of socks and one of Madison’s sweaters and cursed herself for being so stupid.

She stops at a gas station and when she comes out holding sandwiches and soda cans Nick is cleaning his elbow with his hand sticking out of the open window. She drops everything on the dashboard and goes around the car to start the gas pump.

She takes the alcohol wipe from his trembly fingers. Wipes his track marks and his dark dotted scars and the fresh red angry circle. “I’m sorry,” he tells her. “I am.”

She shakes her head. “I hate you,” she says, and kisses the crook of his elbow.

Her feet crunch on the dusty dirt and she can feel the little rocks get stuck in the tread of her shoe. Nick is asleep in the car and the desert breeze ruffles her hair. She looks up at the plastic green alien towering over the lonely house alone in the sand and walks through the garden littered with rocks and pieces of broken glass. The lady tells her that psychic energies linger in the formations and the items and when she lingers by a broken that would fit in the palm of her hand Nick comes up behind her.

“It was too hot in the car,” he says, blinking into the sun. “I couldn’t find my sunglasses. Where are we?”

“Colorado, but only just.”

Nick scratches at himself, uneasy. “It’s too hot, Leesh. I feel sick.”

<i>You are sick, Alicia thinks. She tells him: “there’s oranges in the car, the key’s in the ignition.” He walks away, weaving and wavering on his feet. She leaves his sunglasses in the sun by a broken bulky flip phone from the nineties and when she gets in the car with the AC blasting and the orange peels on the driver’s seat she sees a lizard perched on the lenses.

“I wanted to see the Grand Canyon.”

Nick wriggles until their noses are almost touching, heads resting on the same pillow, turned on their sides. “We still can.”

Alicia exhales. “Don’t lie to me.”

“For you,” he says, earnest. Alicia can tell when he’s lying and it’s worse when she knows he isn’t, that he genuinely believes what he’s saying. “I can do it for you. For real this time, for always this time.”

She falls asleep with his breath on her cheek and his toes peeking out of the holes in his sock, touching her calf.

“Alicia,” Madison answers her call. “Have you seen Nick? I think he took the other car.”

Alicia watches the traffic rip by on the freeway just outside the window. “No,” she says, “I haven’t seen him.”

“Your school called, I think a teacher marked you absent by mistake yesterday. See the registrar and get it corrected.”

“Okay mom,” Alicia agrees, feeling detached and unleashed to her own body. “I will.”

“See you for dinner,” Madison says, and hangs up.

Alicia counts the days on her fingers. She’s been gone for five, and Madison’s only question was for Nick.

She’s half asleep and she had a dream that lingers, making her shift in her underwear, her jeans hanging over the chair in the corner. “Nicky,” she mumbles, and his palm presses against the front of her. She drifts in and out and he’s biting her throat while she grinds greedy and messy against his wrist. She wants to ask him to dip his fingers into her underwear and touch her but she fades away before she can work up the nerve.

Alicia wakes up alone. She washes her underwear in the sink next to the used needle and showers without any soap, piling her tangled hair up on her head in a bun. She sits on a towel on the bed until her panties are dry enough to wear, still damp and smelling like tepid tap water, and finds the car unlocked and the keys under the visor.

She drives home without stopping and chugs off brand cola from gas stations to stay awake and coffee that scorches the roof of her mouth. She feels gritty and stupid and young.

“How was school,” Madison asks when she’s come through the front door. It’s two in the morning and Alicia smells like gas and sweat.

“Good,” she responds, hollow. She leaves her duffel bag by the door and sleeps for twelve hours. She dreams about the time she was seven and their father took them to see the Grand Canyon. It was purple and red and Nick held her hand so she wouldn’t trip over the rocks.

#alyramble #tw incest #tw clarkcest #alicia centric #ftwd #clarkcest #my fic #nick clark/alicia clark #backstory

11 notes · View notes