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eddies-ashtray · 2 months ago

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♡ meet cute.

There’s this alcove out behind the school. It’s deserted and quiet, right around the corner from the outside door to the woodshop. You can normally count on it being empty, a shaded refuge when you need a break during the school day. A secret place to slip away to when things get to be too much.

Once, Daniel Adams was there throwing wood scraps in the dumpster just before the bell signalling the end of second period. But he didn’t disturb you, just went back inside without a second glance. Other than that, it always lacked a population.

Until today.

When you round the corner, you see the trade off clear as day; a small pouch of white powder transferred from a heavily ringed hand being swapped for a thick wad of cash.

The guy receiving the pouch slips it into his jeans pocket before he sees you. Then his green eyes make contact with yours and he books it back down the alley before crashing through the door to the shop. Subtle.

The guy with the cash is left there alone, but seemingly unperturbed by his customers sudden exit. You imagine you might run away too, if you were buying ketamine right behind your school at 11am on a Tuesday.

You recognize him before his curly head whips around to locate the source of alarm. What other guy at Hawkins High has chipped black nail polish and avoids barbershops? More importantly, who else sells drugs at your school? Eddie’s got that job dominated.

“Shit.” Is all he says when he spots you there. His tone is flat, deadpan.

You ignore him in favour of sitting cross-legged on the pavement, gravel crunching beneath your soles before you press your back against cold brick.

You just want him to go away. To be alone.

Staring down at your scuffed Chucks, you begin to pull at a loose thread at the bottom of your frayed pant leg, winding it around the tip of your index finger until it turns white, then unwinding it so the blood comes rushing back with warmth.

When you hear his heavy footfalls, you think maybe your luck hasn’t run out and he might be leaving. But the crunching of gravel does not recede down the alleyway.

Black Doc Martens enter your vision. You stop pulling at the loose thread and stare at the boots for a second before your gaze meanders up to his face.

“Please don’t tell anyone, alright?” Eddie’s tone is non-threatening and hopeful.

“Wasn’t gonna.” You shrug, couldn’t care less about the drug habits of the people you go to school with. Or how they acquire said drugs. Who would you tell anyway? The cops? Fuck that.

Despite the confirmation of your silence Eddie stays put, feet shuffling across gravel, rocks scraping beneath the thick soles.

You avert your gaze, will your voice not to break when you say, “Will you please just go?” But it betrays you, cracking just slightly on the final syllable. As your teeth dig into your bottom lip, you hope he doesn’t notice.

Eyes burning and staring intently at a triangle-shaped pebble, you hold your breath, think, don’t say it, don’t say it, please don’t say it.

“Are you okay?”

Fuck.

Unwillingly, your face crumples and you bury it in your hands, face warming from being watched as you break down. Tears stream down your face silently, thick and hot as they wet your palms and slide down your wrists.

There’s the crunch of gravel again, but he isn’t walking away like you expected anyone might. Who’d want to stick around with a stranger having an emotional breakdown?

But then you feel warmth at your side as he crouches down and leans against the wall beside you, nearly shoulder-to-shoulder.

Any remaining energy you had has been spent on your short exchange with him, so you have none left to plead with him anymore. But as the tears keep coming and your shoulders keep shaking, you find that you don’t mind his presence so much. He doesn’t touch you or invade your space in any way, doesn’t ask why you’re crying or try to stop it.

Eddie just sits with you. Stares out at the swaying trees in the forest beyond the school and silently sits. Even though your skin isn’t touching it’s like he’s holding your hand.

While you never bought into any of the rumours you’d heard whispered about him in the corridors, you were never completely sure of his kindness. Though now you see he wears his eccentricities as armour. It seems Eddie is softer than the tough iron of his armor would suggest.

His motives now are clear: he doesn’t want to leave you alone in the state you’re in. Which is more kindness than anyone at this school has ever shown you.

In actuality, it’s the most attention anyone at this school has ever shown you. Unlike Eddie, you’re mostly just ignored, left alone. Eddie isn’t going to let that happen now.

The pair of you are probably quite the sight. And not just because you’re openly sobbing next to him. The Freak and the Loner Girl. If you were seen together you’re sure your bored peers would have some more rumours to spread.

When your tears dry up and you’re left with a snotty nose and dry eyes, you look out at the forest in silence with him. Staring out blanky at the shedding foliage, your breathing slows and the wind whistles. The wind kissing your cheeks is strangely comforting. Or maybe it’s just Eddie.

In your periphery, you see him shift as he pulls his ringed hand out of the pocket of his jacket. Eddie–who you’ve only just noticed smells really good, like leather and fresh rain–shoves his hand beneath the leather to dig around in an inside pocket.

For one silly, brief moment you think he might be about to offer you a small pouch of white powder.

Then he pulls his hand out. It’s a tissue.

Eddie Munson is offering you a tissue.

The metalhead keeps tissues in his jacket. And drugs. But also tissues.

Looking from the tissue to him, Eddie gives you a soft reassuring smile. You take it from him gingerly. “Thank you.”

Eddie nods shortly. “Yeah.”

“You, um, you didn’t have to sit with me,” you say once you’ve wiped your nose clean, looking at him fully for the first time since you broke down. His eyes are so dark. You’ve never been close enough to notice until now.

“I know.” A beat of silence follows his sweet sincerity where all you can hear is the sound of the trees gently whooshing in the wind. “But I’ve seen you around. You’re alone a lot.”

“Oh.” He’s seen you around?

“You don’t deserve to be, by the way,” he adds quickly. “Especially not…now.”

You look away with a small smile and a soft breath through your nose. Though his delivery is a little awkward, the sentiment causes warmth to flood your chest.

“Right,” you reply, chuckling a little as you meet his eyes again. When he smiles this time, a dimple pops into his cheek. Pretty eyes and dimples?

Smacking his thighs resolutely, Eddie pushes himself up off the pavement to stand in front of you, offers you his hand. You stare up at him, your own hands twitching in your lap, buzzing with anticipation.

“C’mon,” Eddie prompts, nodding his head to the side. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere you wanna go.”

Drawing your lip into your mouth, you chew on it contemplatively.

You don’t have to think long about your answer. Why on Earth would you stay here and wallow when this sweet, kind boy with melted chocolate for eyes is offering you his hand?

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn reader #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson drabble

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vasfasan · 7 months ago

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ahh yes, the canon drugs of fantasy high

gorgonfern, dusk moss, snuff powder, dragon spice...ketamine...and crystal meth

#dimension 20 #d20 fantasy high #fantasy high #Fhjy

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margotw10bis · 11 months ago

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Crashing On Crush.JJK [m] 9

crush!Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut; series; romance; angst

Words: 5k

Synopsis: What happens when your first encounter with your crush is Jungkook seeing your ass?

Warnings: pure angst; drugs (please, if you have addiction problems get some help, you are strong enough 🤍); fingering; praising kink; oral sex (m. receiving)

previous ← 9 → next

Jungkook met Mina when they were twelve, in middle school. It didn't take long for them to become best friends, enjoying spending their after-school time at the bookshop, reading mangas. At first, it was just friendship, the best kind of friendship actually. Back then, everything was simply perfect. But things changed in high school.

Jungkook knew that things at home weren't great for Mina: her dad just lost his job and started drinking alcohol pretty much everyday. That's why Mina used to go to Jungkook's after class, avoiding as much as she could her own home where she didn't feel safe.

However, gradually, Mina spent less time at Jungkook's. She even spent less time with Jungkook, period. Jungkook, on the other hand, noticed some changes in Mina: she was less cheerful, she lost weight and she was less happy. It was like she didn't feel anything at all. She also didn't go to class anymore. The truth is that Jungkook felt like he was loosing her and that terrified him. So he started hanging with the same people as Mina, not good people.

One day, Jungkook witnessed Mina inhaling a strange white powder. He screamed at her, telling her that she was crazy. Mina would have cried if she wasn't amorphous but that's exactly what she wanted: not to feel the pain, not to feel anything. She told her bestfriend that all the darkness around her was too much to bare so what's wrong to not suffer for a few hours? Jungkook did try to reason her out but she didn't listen. She ended up telling: 'rather you're with me, rather you leave me but you can't stay in the middle'.

Jungkook didn't think much. He actually loved Mina and he knew she loved him too. So he started using. How could this white powder be such a big deal? At first, ketamine was good. Really good actually. Jungkook felt like everything around him was far away and he could just stay there, in peace. But then, he begun to feel bad if he wasn't using. He wasn't taking K for Mina anymore, but for himself.

He was seventeen, he was too young to depend on some thing, on some drug to live. He knew it was illegal, especially in South Korea where drug using is severely reprimanded. But he kept it safe in his room, not too much, just for him. Well, not exactly... Mina was so afraid that her parents could discover that she was using that she asked Jungkook to keep her dose in his room. And she was using way more than him. The amount of special K in Jungkook's sockets drawer couldn't be for personal using.

He doesn't know who reported him but one day, after class, he ran to his room in a desperate need to inhale ketamine to finally feel good. He didn't expect to see three police officers in his bedroom. When they asked him questions, he lied and said it was only his. He lied to protect Mina, and she didn't tell the truth, too afraid of the consequences for herself. She let him take the blame for the both of them even when she knew that if she had said the truth, Jungkook wouldn't had this much trouble. Nonetheless, Jungkook doesn't hold a grudge against Mina: he was the one who made the call to lie.

With the amount of drug in his room, the judge didn't believe it was only for personal using and thought that Jungkook was dealing. But, as a minor, he decided to give him a chance to take change of his life. So the judge convicted Jungkook: he had to spend three years - until his majority - in a juvenile detention facility.

It was more like a mandatory military service but with violent teenagers. But there was also an addiction treatment center. It was so hard to get clean while he didn't have anyone he loved around him. Mina was afraid of her parent's reaction if she visited him. And Jungkook's parents... Well, he doesn't really remember what happened because one of the main effects of ketamine is memory loss. So he doesn't know if he told them to back off or if they didn't want to see him anymore but the result was the same: he was alone, and scared.

He was seventeen and he felt like his whole life was over. He was suffering from the deprivation of drug - it was so fucking painful that he felt like dying - and he was damn aware of how people were looking at him: with disgust. Everyone was judging him, even the persons who were supposed to help him. He was so angry at everyone but even more at himself. He has been so fucking stupid to start using because now it was so hard to stop. He hold on on the thought that he did it for Mina, because he loved her.

But was it enough? Loving Mina didn't give him anything when he finally stepped out the facility three fucking years later. He had no diploma, no job, no money, no one. Even if he was out of the center, he was not free. People was still despising him every time he applied to a job and 'juvenile detention facility' was clearly written on his resume. It didn't really help that he had his first tattoos on his arm. He wasn't free because he still had to account to his probation officer.

Before his first meeting with his PO, he was angry, already expecting another person treating him like shit. However, Seokjin was nothing like that. Jungkook was surprised to meet a guy not so much older than him. The first thing Seokjin asked him was 'Tell me about you'. Jungkook sighed and started telling his drug and prison story for the thousandth time like he was expected to. But Seokjin cut him off and said 'Not that, tell me about you. As a person'. Jungkook was so taken aback to be finally treated as a human being after all these years that he cried in front of his PO for hours.

After that, Seokjin became like a big brother to him. He helped him so much with his addiction and pretty much everything. Seokjin had to supervise Jungkook for two years and he knew that Jungkook was ready to do things right. That's why he didn't hesitate to tell him 'Start over. In a new city, where nobody knows you. Be the man you want to be. Be confident and for God's sake, be happy'.

The next day, Jungkook packed the few things he owned and went straight to Seoul. He became a graphic designer as the only skill he had honed in prison was drawing. He met some friends, including Taehyung and he did start over, willing to do things right this time. Not once he was attracted to do drugs, even if some days were harder than others. He wasn't really happy but he was living without too much pain, until he met you.

————

You cry in Jungkook's chest while he is telling you about his past. Jungkook doesn't cry, and he is surprised about that. Maybe he's already cried too much about his past or maybe he doesn't want to pain you more with his own tears. You stay silent for a few minutes, no words comforting enough coming to your mind. So you just head up and kiss him. Your tears drop on Jungkook's cheeks and he holds you tight.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Jungkook" You sob

"Please don't cry. I hate to see you cry" He says gently

Why does he confort you when he is the broken one? He is such a good person, he doesn't deserve any of what happened to him. And that makes you want to cry harder.

You are kissing Jungkook as if your lips were ointment on his wounds. Your hands on his shoulder and hair, his hands cupping your cheeks, there is no space between your two bodies. The darkness around you is oddly a protection from the outside world. You create your own place where is no past, no future and no pain. Just the two of you. You feel the urge to make sure he knows that he is not defined by his past.

"You're a good person, Jungkook"

"Thanks" He replies, awkward since he is not used to be praised like that

"Listen to me, you are a good person"

"Thank you" He says again but not really believing it, not with what he has done

"You are a good person. And I'm going to repeat it until you truly believe it. You are a good person"

You look at him in the dark. You can't see his face but you can hear faint sobbing. You kiss him again and Jungkook can't understand how you can think he is a good man after everything he's told you. But you do. Jungkook's past is rough but it shows one thing: he is truly a good person because, after everything he's been through, he is still kind and loving and he is still willing to do things right while it would be way easier for him to just give up and start using again.

Through his kisses, Jungkook is making a promise to you and to him. As long as you are willing to have him by your side, he'll cherish you and protect you. He'll do anything you want because if you think he's a good man, Jungkook believes you are a true angel, the best thing that ever happened to him. Maybe he is a little selfish to hold on on you but he doesn't care since he fucking loves you.

You fall in love with him all over again while you both fall asleep, holding each other tight.

————

Waking up in Jungkook's arms is the most delightful thing that can happen in the morning. You move your head up carefully and see him sleeping. He is so damn cute like that. Most of the time Jungkook is ridiculously hot and empowering. But right now, in the arms of Morpheus, he looks like a little boy. Somewhat, it warms your heart because he doesn't seem to suffer anymore.

You move slowly and cautiously, and step out of the bedroom. You hear some noise in the kitchen and find Seokjin already making breakfast.

"Do you need help?" You ask him

He turns around and discovers a still sleepy expression on your face.

"I'm almost done. Coffee?"

You nod, grateful for the cup full of the dark brown salutary beverage. You take a sip and moan in pleasure. You definitely needed it. You feel like you were knocked out by all the deep and intense emotions of Jungkook's past and that it'll take a few days to lighten the weight of it.

"I wanted to talk to you" Seokjin tells you gently and you give him an attentive look "Jungkook's addiction is a life-time fight. He'll never stop struggling with it. He is a good boy but everything he is dealing with can be... overwhelming. So, if you think you can't manage it, tell him now. The more you wait, the harder it'll be for him to deal with it alone again"

You stay silent for a moment. You don't really know what to say. You know that Seokjin just wants to protect Jungkook and he knows way more about addiction than you. The least thing you want is to hurt Jungkook. So you take the time to think about what Seokjin has said.

"I don't want him to be alone" You eventually decide to respond and Seokjin gives you a genuine smile

You don't have time to talk more because Jungkook, with messy hair, steps in, rubbing his eyes.

"Good morning everyone" He mumbles, still half-asleep and a tender smile forms on your face

He pecks the top of your hair before sitting down next to you. Why does it feel so natural? So good? But you do blush a little when you remember that you're not alone and that Seokjin has witnessed everything.

Jungkook sips on his coffee that Jin has just served him and opens his mouth:

"Hyung, could you check my place?"

"Sure, but it'll be in two or three days, I have some appointments"

"Thanks"

You look at Jungkook with a questioning face.

"Mina might had hidden some K and I'm not sure how I'd react if I find some. I rather not risk it"

You gently rub his back to erase the sad tone you heard in his voice.

————

Not so long after breakfast, Jungkook and you took the car to go back to Seoul, Jungkook behind the wheel this time. Your heart beats fast and your cheeks blushed when he grabbed your hand. Fortunately, the drive was way lighter than the day before. You also proposed to Jungkook to stay a few days at your place, saying it was a nonsense for him to pay a hotel while waiting for Seokjin to check his apartment and make sure everything is safe. You made a quick stop at Jungkook's and you stayed close to him while he took some cloths in a bag, being aware of a potential discovery of drug that could affect him.

That's how you end up like this. You both took a welcoming shower and changed into loungewear clothes. Jungkook is damn hot in his black sweat shorts and big t-shirt. You also chose an oversize - pink - top and some pj mini shorts in the same color. The truth is that you're hot, and not only because of the Korean summer. You can't deny that Jungkook's presence makes you way more sensitive to everything around you. However, you act like nothing's going on and you both sit on the couch, watching TV. You don't really pay attention to the screen, especially when Jungkook, almost laying, pulled you closer so your back is leaning on his buff chest and your whole body is surrounded by his.

You suddenly feel Jungkook hot breathe on your neck. Shivers travel all over your body. He doesn't wait too long before kissing your skin. Why are you so responsive to his touch? You immediately feel your pussy getting wet, and it doesn't help that his hands begin to explore your body. You feel him everywhere: your chest, your stomach, your bare thighs. A soft moan escapes your lips when his left arm disappears underneath your shirt. Jungkook caresses your boob and pinches your hardening nipple. His touch is so fucking good. You missed it so much. The stimulation of this sensitive part of your body makes your pussy clench.

In a desperate need of friction, you arch your back, throw your head back into his large shoulder - giving him more space to bite your neck - and press your thighs together. Jungkook smirks when he notices how needy you become. You look so hot when you're horny. And he is willing to push your arousal further.

His tattooed hand travels down to the hem of your shots. Skillfully, his fingers find their way under the fabric. You moan louder when you feel his touch on your wetness. The sight of his inked strong arm into your little pink shorts is hot. It's definitely a sin but you're ready to go to Hell just to see it for a second longer.

"No panties, uh?" Jungkook teases you with his raspy voice and it makes you fucking weak, but Jungkook's discovery also rushes blood directly into his cock

Your throat dries but your pussy dampens. You have no doubt at this point that your pj is completely ruined - not that you care anyway. Jungkook uses his delicate digits to circle your clit. You feel like in heaven. You whine like you haven't been touched for years. You are so desperate in his arms and Jungkook loves it. He keeps kissing your neck, fighting the urge to mark you. His left hand squeezes your nipple harder, making it deliciously painful. At this point, your pussy is dripping and doesn't stop clenching around nothing. Jungkook knows it and to be honest, he really wants to enter you with his fingers but he waits for you to say the little word his dominant side loves so much. He is ready to tease you for hours and to push you on the edge for that.

When a weak 'please' comes from your open mouth in a moan, he immediately places his hand lower, feeling all your wetness.

"You are so fucking wet" He says in some proud voice while pushing a finger in your pussy

It's so good that you clench around it. Jungkook's pace is a torture, purposely slow with his thumb rolling on your sensitive clit. Being behind you allows him to perfectly control his movements, just like you would if you were touching yourself - except that Jungkook's expertise provides you way more pleasure.

Your hands come up to grab his black and long hair that tickle your throat's thin skin and the back of his neck. You turn your head as much as you can to kiss him. The hand that used to attack your breasts cups your jaw to kiss you deeper. Your moans are directly swallowed by Jungkook's mouth. He loves hearing you so much, his hard cock is painful in his pants.

Jungkook enters you with another finger and speeds up the pace. You don't even know how is it possible but you get wetter. Your whole pussy is a huge pool of arousal. You're not embarrassed at all because you know that Jungkook loves it. You feel hot under his touch, you feel sexy.

You feel your orgasm building up slowly, your pussy clenching and relaxing around his digits. You are short on breathe but it feels so fucking good.

"Oh my god, Jungkook" You moan against his perfect swollen lips

"Cum on my fingers like a good girl" He whispers in such a seductive tone that you feel like fainting

His words drive you crazy and he finger-bangs you harder. You definitely feel on the edge of your orgasm and you pull on his hair, making him groan. He presses his thumb deeper on your abused clit and it's the end for you. You reach your climax in a loud moan while a huge wave of delightful pleasure makes your legs shake. But Jungkook doesn't stop and continues to slide his fingers in your oversensitive cunt at a slow pace but definitely makes you shiver. Your legs close up in reflex and your body spams. Your eyes close and your features torn in an almost painful pleasure. Seeing you like this drives Jungkook crazy. Knowing that you are this shaken up by his touch boosts his ego and possessiveness.

"Come on, babe, give me one more" He murmurs in your ear

He doesn't really know why he wants to push you further. Obviously, he wants to give you more pleasure but there is something else. Maybe he wants to erase the night you spent with another man, make sure that you feel more pleased by him than by the other guy. His competitive side added to his possessiveness makes him hungry for a second orgasm from you.

"I can't" You tell him in a breathe, your brain in the fog of pleasure

"I know you can"

You don't really know what kind of spell he put on you but you nod, giving him the approval to play with your cunt again. And he does. He pulls off of your pussy just to smear your arousal over your whole groin. It's so dirty to feel your juices messily recovering your skin but this is fucking hot. You never felt so naughty and yet so horny.

"Are so you wet for me?" His possessive side is dying to hear you tell him that

Jungkook wants to give you so much pleasure that you won't ever find another man attractive. He also knows that it's not only his dominant and possessive part but also the part that cares about you. Is it weird to say he wants to ruin you to keep you in his arms? He doesn't really have time to think about it because you open your mouth to speak up:

"Only for you"

Your words make Jungkook's cock twitch in his pants and he groans in satisfaction. 'Good fucking girl' He thinks and he enters you again with two fingers. You jolt in his arms but Jungkook keeps you in place with left forearm. Your mind is above clouds. The pleasure provided by the overstimulation after your orgasm is beyond words. It's painful and delightful at the same time. You can't even recall your name. The only thing you can say is Jungkook's name with a choked voice. You're a fucking mess.

"Cum again for me, babe'"Jungkook urges you while kissing your neck

The pet name and his fingers in your swollen and sensitive pussy are dangerous for your sanity. It doesn't take long for you to cum around his digits in a muted groan. Jungkook doesn't push you further when he notices how you're shaking in his arms due to the two orgasms he provided you. He hugs you tight and kisses your hair.

You feel exhausted after the two tsunamis of pleasure that rushed over you. Your whole body is flabby but your mind is in a euphoric phase that makes you laugh. It's like a shot of dopamine. After being this harsh with your body, Jungkook is now very gentle, caressing your arms and your stomach and kissing everywhere he can: the top of your head, your cheek, your neck, your shoulder.

"I think you should take a shower" He tells you softly, motioning to your messy intimate area.

You blush hard when you realize that you look really dirty - in all kind of ways. You nod shyly and bit your lower lip. You definitely feel unpleasant by your drying juices between your legs but you feel too good in Jungkook's arms to leave them.

"Do you want to come with me?" You ask, your cheeks reddening

"How could I say no?"

Jungkook's smile is perfect. His bunny teeth and scrunching nose are the definition of happiness. Right now, you are so close to say the 'L' word. To stop thinking about it, you stand up and walk to the bathroom, Jungkook right behind you. It's only when you have taken off your cloths and you've already entered the shower that you notice Jungkook's hard cock. The sight of his big and thick length shakes your pussy. Your instinct controls your movements and your hand wraps around him.

The soft skin under your fingertips makes you almost moan. Jungkook closes his eyes in delight while you start pumping him. Your mouth waters and you purse your lips, creating some kind of cringe face. Jungkook frowns when he sees your face.

"Is something wrong?" He asks with a worried voice, wondering if you are forcing yourself to touch him

"No, it's just that..." You wince while you are looking for the right words, embarrassed "I wonder how you taste"

Jungkook's releases a reassured sigh.

"Take my cock in your mouth if you wanna know" He says, playfully but that doesn't make you laugh

"I'm not really good at it" You whisper, kind of ashamed

Jungkook's steps closer to you and cups your face in his big hands, forcing you to look at him. The hot water coming from the shower makes your skins glistening and blankets you in a steam cloud. It's like a protective shield around your two body.

"I will never force you to do something you don't want to do. But if you don't want to do it just because you are afraid of not being good enough, I can guide you. I won't judge you. Whatever you decide, I'm okay with it" Jungkook's voice is so soft that your heart is melting

He pecks your nose delicately and somewhat, feeling how much he cares about you gives to some courage.

"I'd like you to guide me then" You say in a murmur

Jungkook nods and helps you get on your knees. You can't deny being a little intimidating by his size right in front of your face. The red on your cheeks is clearly noticeable. However, as Jungkook is witnessing you kneeled, he gets really horny. He couldn't be in a more dominant position while he is standing up and you're on your knees, ready to suck his boner. You look so fucking innocent while his big cock is inches away from your pretty mouth. God, what he'd do to this mouth... The simple thought makes his dick twitch. Why does he like so much the idea of teaching you how to suck his cock?

"You can start by kissing it" He says with a raspy voice

You do as he says, softly kissing the tip. A drop of pre-cum stains your swollen lips and Jungkook has to bit his lower lips to prevent his moan. You're so hot right now that he is a second to cum. You don't seem to be aware of his inner state and you start pumping him slowly at the base while you kiss him more.

At some point, driven by your own horniness, you take a fat lick from the base of his cock to the tip. Jungkook moans loudly, giving you more confidence to continue. Your tongue caresses his length everywhere without taking him into your mouth. The stains of saliva make his dick so pretty. You can't wait any longer and open your mouth wide to take the tip.

More precum settles on your tongue. The salty taste makes you moan, sending vibrations in Jungkook's length. You slowly take him more, careful that you don't hurt him with your teeth - and it's not really easily owing to his size.

"You're doing good, babe. Open your pretty mouth wide for me"

Jungkook's voice is shaken because of the pleasure. You look up at him and meet his perfect face with delight painted on it. Jungkook almost looses it when he sees you looking at him. Your eyes are so innocent while you have his cock in your mouth. The duality of the scene is a sin. A moaned 'fuck' escapes his pierced lips.

You take him deeper and deeper, almost feeling his cock in your throat. Your hand slides on what you can't take into your mouth. Your tongue wiggles around his tip and insists on the sensitive spot connecting the tip to his length. Jungkook's groans grow deeper and he slightly moves his hips. He doesn't want to push too much but the pleasure you provide him is too unbearable to stay steady.

Seeing that he likes it, you grow bolder and push your head further, almost taking his entire dick in your throat.

"Fuck, babe!" He moans "Your mouth feels so fucking good"

You pull off to breathe and take him again, your nose touching is pubis. You gag on his cock and Jungkook swears he's in heaven. He feels your tight throat contracting around his dick while you chocked in it and it's so fucking hot. The bathroom is fulled of Jungkook's pleased groans and choking sounds from your part - music to his ears if he is being honest. This is so shameless and hot, making your pussy so wet that you don't know if it's from your arousal or the shower. It doesn't help that the praising and the pet name make you clench around nothing. Will you ever stop feeling butterflies in your stomach when he is calling you 'babe'? You seriously doubt it.

You decide to catch your breathe while sucking him less deep but faster. His length is dripping from your saliva and your pace drives Jungkook crazy.

"Come on babe, suck on my cock like a good girl. Keep going, I'm gonna cum" He manages to say between his clenched teeth

His inked hand grabs your hair, not to push you but to feel you more in someway. He stands tall on front of you, sexier than ever. He is like a god, powerful and maybe a little dangerous for your sanity. It makes him look even more dominant and you can't deny that it makes you horny. You didn't even know you liked it so much before meeting Jungkook.

A last glance at you, sinfully hot on your knees while his big cock is fulling your pretty mouth, drives him over the edge.

"Babe, I'm cumming, pull off-" He moans

As he tries to step away, you grab his hips to keep him in your mouth. You don't move your head but your tongue is still swirling like crazy around his cock and you feel his first shot of hot and thick cum. You moan fromthe sensation, closing your eyes to have a better taste of his spunk. Seeing you loving his cum makes Jungkook releases more in your mouth, until he completely empties his balls in your warm mouth.

Both Jungkook and you are out of breathe. You slowly stand up, grabbing the hand Jungkook provides you to help. Your legs hurt but it's immediately forgotten when you meet the bliss on Jungkook's handsome face. He rushes over your lips and kisses you passionately.

"Who is the dickhead that told you you weren't good at it?" He asks, half-joking half-serious

"My ex, when we broke up" You try to stay neutral but the memory is still painful - he told very mean things the last time you saw him

"Let me tell you something. He lied. It's the best blowjob I've ever had"

You see the sincerity in Jungkook's eyes and you feel proud. You realize that he helps you overcome your insecurities without even having you feeling like trying to do so. Jungkook just makes you happier.

You hug him tight and he kisses your forehead. You both appreciate the peaceful silence and the warm water, before going to sleep. There is no doubt you'll sleep tight after those mind-blowing orgasms.

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Taglist @hoseokteardrop @aerynorirene @jkoooooooookie @lacolegaming @busanbby-jjk @mysteriousstress65 @coralmusicblaze @winter-bear98 @gimeow @cuntessaiii @nikkinik485 @jjin-kun @dmstoyangyang

#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jjk #jjk x reader #fanfic #jjk smut #crashing on crush #jjk x y/n #y/n #bts angst

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nectardaddy · 1 month ago

Text

BITTER . . . kyotani “mad dog” kentaro + f! reader

𖥔 CHAPTER TWO : FLAME 𖥔

warnings : 17+ to read, language, addiction, illegal activities, brief allusion/mention of sex work

She can't remember the first time she got arrested in its totality; it comes and goes in pieces.

A party, neon lights, and a back room with white powder on a table. She remembers to a tee what it felt like before she blacked out: scared. Remembers her hands were shaky, sweaty, her heart pounded out of her chest, and she bit her lips so hard they bled. She remembers the pressure behind her eyes when the people around her looked at her in anticipation.

“Just one line, like old times.”

So she did.

She picked up the rolled up piece of paper and did it without a second thought.

One line turned to two, and two turned to three. Then at some point she blacked out.

She gets bits and pieces of a police raid, but she was too high to recognize the severity so she stayed put with her head on a table. She remembers the police yanked her up, pushed her around, and screamed at her for answers. She thought they were speaking another language, and her heart thumped out of her chest - she threw up on a cop's shoes before they shoved her in a car.

She woke up in a drunk tank in the police station, her head hurt and the bright lights overhead made her feel nauseated. She could barely open her eyes without a painful sting, her mouth was dry, and her makeup was smeared.

She was a failure in the span of six hours. A dire attempt at fixing her life, and putting it back together again completely down the drain.

She stopped trying to get sober for some time after that.

Pills was where she started, snagging them from her foster parents' medicine cabinet here and there. They never noticed - so called dad was always on the road, “work” or so he said, and so called mom was out and about with another man, and didn't give a fuck about her anyway. Her older sister had aged out of the program, but she would've been the one to save her if she was aware of the gravity.

No one knew just how bad it was. Not even her.

She was introduced to Kuroo Tetsuro in high school by Yaku. Tall guy, charming, with a devious business - party drugs. From ecstacy to lsd, she tried it all, but fell in love with cocaine.

From there, her life spiraled into dime bags and failing grades until she barely graduated with a rotten gpa. She learned to only blame herself; it wasn't Tetsuro or Morisuke's fault, they wouldn't have shown her the world if it meant she would ruin it for herself. But she only learned that in the sanctity of a circle.

She only had herself to blame.

Addiction was woven into her dna, and no matter how much pulling and yanking she did, she could never get it out.

Addicted to cocaine, addicted to attention, addicted to caffeine, addicted to pulling others down alongside her so at least she didn't burn alone - a laundry list she kept hidden next to the skeletons in her closet.

She used to blame her biological parents, though she never met them. She found out both were addicts - blamed it on shitty genes - and was never the same since. She pointed the finger at everyone else for her transgressions, until she found herself airing out woes to those just as fucked up as she was.

Her neighbor, who took xanax from his son, blamed his ex wife. The barista, who popped oxy, blamed her shitty boyfriend. The high school boy blamed his friends for getting hooked on ketamine. And the preacher's wife blamed god for creating heroin to begin with.

She blamed it on a shitty hand at life and a stupid decision.

The phone on her nightstand won't stop buzzing, perpetually on vibrate because the ring tone annoys her. After the tenth buzz, she finally opens her eyes with a loud groan and picks it up.

“What?” Her voice is gravely, annoyed, as she flops back down in the comfort of her covers.

“Watch it, asshole!” It’s Morisuke, and she groans upon realizing that he was in a mood. The man was testy, flighty, and a terror - if he pulled the pin to his anger, truly no one was safe. “Last time I'm a good friend if that's how you answer.” He emphasizes the words ‘good friend’ like it's supposed to mean something, a jab at her. But she's used to it, and rolls her eyes.

A complicated relationship: her and Yaku. Each other's biggest supporters, but natural born enemies; they toed the line of toxic more often than not.

He called her when he needed something: drugs or a connection. She called him when she wanted an escape, for someone to tell her she wasn't the problem, or simply to get off. And they both would meet in the middle on their psyche - completely and utterly fucked.

Sleep deprivation is starting to get to her because she doesn't think of the consequences of the blonde when she out right ends the call after his statement. She tosses the phone beside her and closes her eyes once more. Her bed is warm, cozy; she just did laundry the other day and she feels halfway normal.

But her phone buzzes again, and this time it won't stop at all.

She grits her teeth and pushes herself to sit up, grabbing at the phone in anger just to get it to stop buzzing. It's still Morisuke, and part of her wants to chuck the phone across the room and watch it shatter. “What the fuck do you want, Yaku?”

“Either get your ass here or have fun in jail again!” The call ends just as quickly as it began, and she finally sees why it's Morisuke's third time in anger management.

She tosses her phone down again, and it takes a moment to process the words in her mind, still groggy from sleep. But her eyes flicker over to the green tinted numbers on her phone, and her stomach lurches to her throat.

8:20

“Shit!” Suddenly she's scrambling out of bed and grabbing any article of clothing off the floor. She worked well into the early hours of the morning the past few nights, and she has nightmares when she does finally close her eyes. The past haunts her, the things she remembers at least, and she just can't seem to escape it no matter how much she kicked or screamed.

Last night brought her down the memory lane of awful things she did for drugs.

She sold her car, now she walks everywhere. Sold possessions, now she has nothing. She begged, borrowed, and stole. Now she's got a criminal record and a list of friends with their names crossed out. She always wakes up when it gets to the worst of it, and she'll never look at herself in a clean lense anymore. Forever dirty, forever unclean - forever a junkie.

Her hair is a mess, her socks don't match, her clothes are wrinkled and smell like cigarettes. But as soon as she's dressed, she's out the door.

She sold her car for a quarter of its worth all to get high “just one more time” so she runs.

It's cold, and she feels pathetic. Already out of breath and she hasn't even made it a block. But the fear of being incarcerated again makes the burning feeling in her chest dull. The walk usually takes her fifteen minutes, but the street signs blurring past her makes her think she can get there in time.

She doesn't feel the crushing weight on her shoulders when she swings open the door of the community center. Doesn't feel that same sense of dread from last time as she runs down the hallway. She's too focused on the crisis at hand: going back to jail. Not a good look to her parole officer if she skipped only the second day.

She comes to a full stop in front of the door, panting and wheezing for air with her hands on her knees. Her phone is in her pocket, grabbing it alongside her cigarettes in a rush out the door, and she checks the time.

8:35

Five minutes never killed anybody. So she walks in when she finds her breath and keeps her head down.

They're looking at her, she can feel it. Everyone's eyes bore into her so sharply she hisses when she closes the door behind her. Morisuke is on the far side of the room, he didn't save her a seat. Even if he did, she couldn't find it in herself to walk in front of everyone. He knows that.

But there's an open seat tucked into the back, cramped next to the wall. Next to the guard dog, her accountability partner, that guy who called her stupid over a lighter. She bites her cheek hard, she'll have a sore later on but she doesn't even care, she hates the thought of having to sit next to him.

She sees his eyes glance over to her, he's hunched down in the seat with his hood up and his hands in his pockets, and suddenly she feels small - miniscule. He looks at her as if she were nothing, not rude, but unimportant as his eyes move to look forward again.

“You look like shit, Weezer,” he doesn't even look at her when he speaks. Instead, he's got an intense look in his eyes. It looks like he's listening, but really he was completely checked out.

He's got this hard ass look to him that makes her want to scoff. Narrowed gaze and furrowed brows; a perpetual irritated aura that was sharp and burned at the touch. He has a bruise on his chin, black and blue as if he just got it, and she wonders who put it there - she wishes it were her.

“Says the jackass who got punched in the jaw.”

There's a hint of a pull at his lips, like he enjoys the back and forth. The harsh whispered exchange amongst near strangers felt like a game to him, but pissed her off to no end. She can't put her finger on the exact reason as to why. Maybe it's how he holds himself, standoffish and cold. Or how he speaks to her like she's nothing but a pawn, a means to an end just to get a rise - to fuel his own ego.

She believes it's another reason though. He was an asshole and she was a loose cannon.

He doesn't say anything in response, doesn't give her the satisfaction. Instead, he cuts his eyes to her. Looks her down like a predator sizing up prey, and his gaze lingers, until he looks away entirely.

The boiling feeling in her blood starts again, and she feels like adding another bruise to his jaw right then and there. She grits her teeth, she feels hot and downright pathetic. But one thing about self loathing is that it always made her wallow, and wallowing meant she craved.

So she counts.

She taps her foot with every number in her head. It's quiet, a gentle rap against the dirty tiled floor, and she focuses on the numbers and her breathing. Once she reaches twenty, and the feeling hasn't subsided in the slightest, she feels like getting up from her chair and screaming. Like yelling into the void just so someone, anyone, would hear her. But she doesn't. She stays put and counts faster.

“Cut that shit out.” The guard dog looks at her in annoyance, he can hear the taps and it's starting to pluck a cord.

She doesn't look at him this time. And if anything, his statement makes her bounce her leg even more. “Fuck off, Mad Dog.”

“Quit it.” His eyes narrow and his jaw tightens, if she looked at him she might very well have been scared. There's something about the man that screams something awful, something terrible, something not worth poking a bear to find out.

“No.”

He grimaces, and she's none the wiser. But her stomach drops when he reaches for the back of her chair - she shouldn't have poked the bear.

Her numbers get all jumbled when he pushes the chair forward. It's sudden and jerky, moved with a force only caused by anger and annoyance. There's a loud screech when he moves her chair, it cuts through any conversation or lesson the therapist was having, long and drawn out, slow enough to grab everyone's attention - for everyone to look back.

“Then do that shit over there, not around me.”

He sounds almost proud of the way the words drip from his mouth, callous and to the point. Snarky and laced with venom. She doesn't even have it in her to look back, to even catch his eyes anymore, because she knows the deep settled feeling of hate in her gut is overbearing. If she looked back, she'd add more than just a bruise to his jaw - she would kill him if she could.

Her cheeks and ears are hot, and the therapist asks a question that goes unanswered by her. She can't even hear it over the blood roaring in her ears; the churning feeling in her stomach is the only thing she's able to focus on. Her eyes are screwed shut and her hands ate balled into fists - everyone is staring, she knows it, so she keeps her head tucked down.

“Go to, fucking, hell.” Whispered between gritted teeth, just loud enough to be within ear shot. She doesn't hear his reply, she doesn't want to, she doesn't care.

She doesn't count for the rest of the class. She sat there in white, hot, sticky anger until it was time to leave.

She couldn't get out of the room fast enough. Cramped, stuffy, and anger ripping at her every seam. She felt like she was drawn and quartered, pulled limb from limb by the suffocating feeling. She swallows hard when she finally gets outside, the cold nipping at her face and cooling her down. Like ice on a stove, it melted quickly.

She doesn't remember the last time she'd been this angry; maybe a time that she was arrested, or maybe for something as simple as dropping her phone. (She'd been through three already, there was something satisfying about watching the plastic and glass shatter.)

Her hand reaches for the cigarettes in her hoodie pocket, she got a new pack the night before. Mevius, with some shitty new flavor, but she's smoked enough that the lighter now fits in the pack. She puts the cigarette between her lips and flicks the lighter, but groans when it doesn't ignite.

Her hands are shaky, from anger or the cold but she couldn't tell which. She flicks it again. And again. And again.

Nothing.

There's a moment where she pauses, and things seem to slow. Like the world around her decelerates and calms. She can see her breath in the air, uneven and ragged. The woeful emotion of stupidity washes over her, and she feels at a loss when her eyes flicker to the lighter in her hand.

She's craving, she's cold, she's angry, and she can't even light a god forsaken cigarette.

There's a soft breeze in the air, it makes her shiver. But then she snaps. Like a twig being cracked over a knee, and throws the lighter to the concrete. The action was unexpected and rough; a high tower crumbling out of nowhere and rubble falling wherever it may.

The white lighter cracks, splinters - shatters. The butane in it, or what was left, soaked into the cement and into the cracks. The shards of plastic feathered out around her - a circle, and she feels like heaving.

“You need a light?” The voice spooks her, and she turns quickly behind her. It's the guard dog. He's got the same expression as before: forever angered by something, but his eyes aren't as narrowed as before. Aren't as sharp when he looks at the remnants of the lighter around her.

She wants to spit at him. To tell him off, scream, hit him - something. But she can't find the fight she once had seconds ago. Anger was testy, and tricky, it came in waves. Hit her like a wave until it spit her back out into sorrow; a fucked up pathway created by drugs and frying her brain.

“No.” She's lying through her teeth, she wants a smoke more than anything right now. He can tell.

He already has his own cigarette between his lips, and she hears him light it. She's too caught up to even look him in the eyes anymore; she feels like a dog with its tail between its legs - ashamed and scorn.

He doesn't pass her the lighter, doesn't make the effort to give her something of his - the sneaky habit of swiping lighters was something he assumed everyone had.

He ignites it and holds it out to her.

She looks at the flame and her breathing staggers. The cigarette between her lips almost falls, and a sinking feeling washes over her. He gives her a look to hurry up, to not waste his lighter or his time. So she caves and leans into the flame.

She breathes in and the world goes back to normal - back to shit. Everything is at its normal pace once more, but the sinking feeling just won't stop. “I didn't need your help.” More so to convince herself as she said it aloud.

“Yeah you did.” He sounds sure of it, and she scoffs.

“No, I-”

“A thank you would suffice.” He's blunt and to the point. He's settled back into the same dick head attitude from before.

Her eyes flicker over to him - he's taken a few steps back from where he originally stood - and he keeps his eyes forward as he takes the smoke from his lips. She doesn't say anything in reply, but her gaze lingers for a moment before returning to the ground.

He's nonchalant and brash, cold, and callous. But he offered her a light despite the obvious need she felt of tearing his throat out. It makes her feel sick, so she pushes the thought to the back of her mind and keeps smoking.

“Why are you really here, Weezer?” His words cut through the thick silence, but she keeps her eyes to the ground all the same. She debates on even answering, but sighs as she ashes the cigarette.

“Because people like you piss me off.” She feels as if a fuse in her brain short circuits, the neurons she fried with cocaine fire out of order and scramble her emotions. She doesn't know what she feels anymore, but she cuts her eyes up to him like she's got all the confidence in the world. “Arrogant and rude.”

His eyes meet hers at the statement, and for once she can see the brown in them through a narrowed gaze. “Yet we're in the same class, so what does that make you?”

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