#SS kitchen sinks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carolmunson · 2 years

Text

perfect penmanship (steddie x reader)

Fill for this prompt: ‘What if reader accidentally found eddies book and saw all of the things he wants to do to her and planned for her when steve was gone for that weekend. She would be on edge every time he was near her and she would get a funny feeling in her tummy anytime he so much looked at her. Eddie probably takes notice and does little things to get her reaction.’ This is an Eddie focused fic with some Steve cause I’m in my Harrington era and takes place the summer before Good Cop x Bad Cop (why am I creating lore???). I took some liberties on this. And also gave our reader a little bit of back story on how she met Steve. Sorry for the wait here, things are kind of all over the place while I get ready to leave for a job. This incredibly long one shot is also a little all over the place, but WHO CARES. I’m tired! Anyway, hope you love it. You can tell I started this fic while I was watching 'The Bear’. warnings: f!reader, MEAN!EDDIE, jealous!eddie, angst, sweet angel steve harrington who is always nice, mentions of a lot of different kinks including kn*feplay and p*ss (but not written out), smacking with a ruler, D/s dyanmics, use of 'daddy’ in sexual context, use of 'master’ in sexual context, p in v sex, degredation, humiliation, smoking, all that jazz oh yeah and if you’re under 18 don’t read my content.

Summer, Hawkins, 1990

Eddie kept himself busy in the kitchen, if there was something he was good at outside of music, it was cooking. Now that Steve was on vacation he could put in a little more effort now that he was just cooking for two.

It was 90 degrees, hot and steamy in the kitchen with pans and pots going on the stove and the oven cranked. Eddie shook a sauté pan, sizzling aromatics, his back muscles outlined by a heather grey t-shirt drenched in sweat. He had his hair tied up on itself in a bun at the nape of his neck. His bangs still fluffing in his eyes, other stray hairs sticking to his face. His cheeks blushed red from the heat outside and the flames on burners.

You walked into the kitchen, looking much less frazzled since you’d spent all day in the air-conditioning upstairs. You wore an old Camp Hawkins t-shirt from when you were a kid. The kind of camp shirt that would be too big for your whole life, that got softer with every wash. You pulled open the fridge and grabbed a can of Coke, letting the chill flow over you, shutting your eyes.

“Hey, hey, close that. I have dough in there,” he called over his shoulder, “Can you grab me the red wine on the counter, sweet thing? It should be open already.”

You look over at him lazily and offer a bored reply, “Yes, chef.”

You put your can on the table, shutting the fridge door lightly (even though you wanted to slam it). The bottle clinked as you pulled it by the neck off the counter, he reached back for it without turning around – pouring the contents into the pan that flared with a quick flame.

“Careful,” you chided, he looked over his shoulder and winked.

“Will you go put this in the recycling?” he asked, now quickly stirring with one hand, the bottle outstretched to you in the other. You plucked it from him by the base.

“Yes, chef,” you said with a smile, washing the bottle out in the sink that was already starting to over flow with mixing bowls and other kitchen ware. This morning it was cakes, tonight it was duck, tomorrow you were sure he’d want to smoke a whole pig. You gently dropped the bottle into the glass recycling (Eddie was very serious about separating cans and bottles) with a little ‘clang!’, going back into the kitchen to grab your abandoned Coke can on the table.

“Can you also go grab one of the big box fans out of me and Steve’s room and bring it down here? I’m sweating buckets, baby,” he said, turning half way at his waist. You blushed as his shirt lifted – the tattoos on his hips peeking out from the tops of his jeans, the bottom ridge of his defined oblique being brushed by the gray fabric – it drove you wild.

“Yes, chef,” you said, walking out of the kitchen.

“Hey,” he said, you turned your head, your brows raising to silently ask ‘hm?’

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he gushed, his boyish grin breaking across his face.

“Thank you, chef,” you grinned back, hurrying up the stairs to grab the fan. You sighed as you got in the room, the fan resting on a splay of books and comics on top of the low makeshift book case Eddie made from an upright shelving unit. The other one was clamped down in the window to let fresh air in. From the looks of it, Eddie had left both of them on last night, letting it them all day – Steve was gonna throw a fit when they got the electric bill this month.

As you go to turn the nob on the fan, it falls on the floor, splaying the books everywhere – papers fanning themselves out across the room. “Shit, shit!” you say to yourself, turning it off and putting it up right, unplugging it from the wall behind the bookcase. You turned around, hurrying to pick up and re-organize the books on the ground. Even if Eddie wouldn’t totally care, you didn’t want to get anything reported back to Steve that wasn’t absolutely glowing. In your efforts, you came across a composition notebook – clearly getting plenty of use, tucked neatly part way under the couch.

The cover was crudely scrawled on in penmanship that could only be Eddie’s: 'Crime :) & Punishment >:(’

You huffed a laugh, and opened the cover, but instead of finding Eddie’s diary, you found the beginnings of a list of things Eddie wanted – from and to do to you:

Tie her up and keep her in the bedroom for free use whenever we want for a few nights, maybe after she’s too handsy on a date or something. (Steve loves this.)

Tie her up the next time I make us dinner and put her on the center of the table and eat her. eat her out. (Update: this went great and she came six times like a fucking whore, fell asleep before she could even try the eclairs I made which was kind of annoying)

She asked for the 'Dungeon Master’ when she came to drop off my dice at Hellfire and I would kill a kid just for her to call me Master in the house on her knees

Slave Leia costume????? (Steve said he won’t be Jabba, I think he’d be great)

Get leather cuffs, the steel ones hurt her even though she won’t say they do.

Bathroom denial? Am I into piss???? Or do I just like to watch her cry and get embarrassed? Might be into piss or watching her piss herself. Steve said no :(

Start ashing my cigs in her mouth when she talks back to me or cusses. Put my cigs out on her thighs. note ^^ Steve said be careful not to trigger her asthma :( but otherwise okay

fake kidnap her when she’s getting out of work and put her in the trunk and fuck her in the woods like a worthless whore. measured steve’s trunk and she wont fit and she’ll know its my van if we use my van :( ^^ update: Steve said no. :(

Make her hold a quarter or a nickel (ridge side) to the wall with the tip of her nose and use the leather strap every time she drops it. (Steve wants to do this ASAP!!!!!)

More rice kneeling, MORE RICE KNEELING

fuck her in those little skirt suits she wear to work fuck her in her skirt suits BEFORE work and mess up her hair and makeup and make her go to work like a used fucking slut after she gets out of line

need more soap for when she runs that stupid pretty mouth

kind of wanna piss in her mouth??? maybe in the shower or something

wanna dress her up as arwen

anal training (update: steve said he doesn’t think she’s ready but what the fuck does he know)

ren faire date, she’d be such a cute bar wench (not inviting steve)

saw her play with my switchblade the other day, why did it make me hard?

do you think she’s start letting me bring knife play into punishments? steve said that’s an accident waiting to happen

“Babe, I need that fan!” you heard him call from the kitchen. Your heart raced, some of these were scary. “Coming!” you called back, quickly tossing the notebook into your desk drawer in the man-cave they commandeered. You grabbed the fan and hurried down stairs, a little out of breath.

“Sorry, chef,” you smiled, “I knocked over some books and I wanted to put them back nicely.”

“That’s thoughtful,” he said, not turning around yet.

“Did I hear something come out of your mouth upstairs that I shouldn’t have?” he asked, stepping away from the oven and leaning against the counter. He tapped a cigarette out of his American Spirit box and held it in his lips, looking at you.

Your heart raced, he was gonna ash in your mouth. Holy fuck he was gonna do this cause Steve wasn’t home. He was gonna– “Baby, answer me,” he said, a huff of impatience slid on his words while he took a drag of his cigarette, “Too hot to wait for you to figure it out.”

“Yeah, but I was just startled,” you said, rounding your eyes into his favorite look, “It won’t happen again.” His heart melted when he looked at you like that, all flushed and nervous. He went to the sink, reaching under the cabinet first and your breath hitched as he pulled out some liquid hand soap.

“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” he hummed, rinsing and then washing his hands in the sink. You tried to make your heart rate slow down. “Everything’s just simmering down here sweet thing, so I’m gonna take a shower,” he said, peeling his t-shirt off to reveal his tattooed chest. His jeans hung low on his hips, the band of his boxers slipping with the slick of his sweat – your mouth filled with spit. You wished he’d bend you over the counter and fuck you right there. “You wanna come with me?” he asked.

’kind of wanna piss in her mouth??? maybe in the shower or something’

“Um! No thank you,” you said, “Plus, Steve said he’d call and I wanted to make sure that–” Ring, ring. Ring, ring. “I’ll take it in your room,” you said, bounding up the stairs past him and closing the door behind you. You eagerly picked up the phone.

“Hi, Harrington residence,” you said with a perfect, clean voice. “Well if it isn’t the prettiest girl I know,” Steve said on the other end of the line. You swooned at the sound of his voice.

“Hi Stevie,” he could hear your smile through the phone, “How’s it going over there?”

“Well my dad got a sunburn so we’ll get to listen to him complain about it for the next three days,” he grumbled, “How are things at home, where’s Ed?”

“He’s in the shower, he’s making us dinner tonight,” you answered.

“Well, that’s sweet.”

“Yeah…I guess. I miss you, though,” you mumbled, fumbling open your desk drawer and taking out Eddie’s notebook.

“I miss you too, babe,” he said, his voice soft and needy, “Spent my whole time here so far thinkin’ about our date night. The boat’s not the same without you. -ugh- Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell her. My dad says hi, by the way, if you can’t hear him from over my shoulder.“

Your heart swelled at the memory of his little ‘last day’ stunt before he left for vacation. He made a big show of taking you out shopping the night before, making sure you had a new dress for where he was taking you the before he left. He loved when you got all dolled up for him, but you weren’t his plaything those couple of days. You were you, like you used to be — like old times.

He brought you into town for a nice dinner, like a nice one. The kind of restaurant Eddie wouldn’t be allowed into at a glance. You shared a bottle of wine, you got dessert, he kissed you on the street while you waited for a cab to take you home. And home?

Home was heavenly. The first time in ages he didn’t just bend you over and take you. The first time in a while he said your name while he pushed into you. He held you close and desperately on his lap while you rocked on top of him – it was slow and sensual. He never wanted you to forget it. "Hi, Mr. Harrington,” you called through the phone, “I don’t know if he asked, but could you let your dad know I got all the filing done yesterday. So I just have to go through his messages tomorrow and make some calls.”

“Don’t talk business with me, honey, I’m on vacation,” he whined. It was the only time Steve got grumbly in a boyish way, when you talked about work. It’s how he met you, at a holiday party at his dad’s firm, Mr. Harrington’s fresh new secretary. He didn’t know whether to love you for looking so professional and precious at your desk, or hate you for his dad trusting you more than he ever trusted Steve.

A few months into dating Steve wanted to impress you by bring you to the lake house. He got it together for that weekend and took you out on his daddy’s boat every day because you liked being out on the water. He’d melt every time you’d call him 'Sailor Stevie’ and giggle. But things were different now, and that was okay. You’d make it back to the lake house eventually.

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, “Do you have anything fun planned for later? Are they doing fireworks or anything?” “I don’t know, I have to man the grill – wish Ed would fit in with my parents so he could cook instead. We have some family friends coming over so, you know, same old as every summer. Rich people talking about how rich they are,” he said.

“Steve you’re one of the rich people at the party talking about how rich they are,” you teased.

“Baby, I work at Family Video,” he grumbled. “You’re a manager at Family Video,” you corrected, “And you know your dad is proud of you for that. He said that after another year of this you could apply to the fi–” “I’m not working for my fucking dad,” he said shortly.

“Okay, okay,” you soothed, “I’m sorry.” “S'fine, I’m sorry for snapping,” he said, his voice getting a little husky. You couldn’t hear anymore shuffling behind him in the background, everyone must’ve gone outside, “You bein’ a good girl for me at home?”

Your body tingled, your chest feeling heavy, slickness immediately forming between your legs at the question. He could hear you get breathless, a little chuckle comes out of him, “Honey, I asked you a question, are you being good for me?”

The dominance creeping into his voice made you shiver. The shower was still going in the bathroom, it couldn’t hurt if you just…

“Yes, I’m being such a good girl,” you confessed, your hand sneaking past the waist band of your cotton shorts and slipping between your legs. Offering yourself slow and lazy circles over your panties – you didn’t want him to find out you were doing anything you’re not supposed to. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said, “I’ll be home sooner than you think, pretty girl. I’ll take you out again, just us.”

“Just us?” you smiled, a blush forming on your cheeks. You pulled your underwear to the side, the cool air from the fan in the window shocking your body against the slickness. You let a finger glide over your opening up to your clit, stifling a huff of pleasure so Steve wouldn’t catch on. “Yeah, I wanted to take you to the new place dow–” Dial tone. You frowned, your hand snaking out of your panties, “Steve? You there?” “Steve?” you said again, turning around towards the door only to see Eddie standing over your desk. His fingers pressing down hard on the receiver. “You havin’ fun in here?” he asked. Your body went to ice. Even with a towel around his waist, dripping form the shower, he looked menacing.

“No,” you quickly responded, straightening up in the chair. “You know I don’t take kindly to being lied to, sweet thing,” he said, taking the phone from you and hanging it up, “If you were feeling a little pent up, you could’ve just asked. But now that you had to go break the rules…” Guilt swirled in your chest, knowing how this looked to him. Not only were you breaking a pretty hard rule, but it was for Steve. Ed had been seething the whole time Stevie had you out on his arm, while he took you to dinner, while he made love to you in the bed you shared. “C'mon, get up,” he said.

“But I was on the phone,” you said, “Steve was telling me something and he’s gonna think I hung up on him.” “I don’t give a fuck that Steve is gonna think you hung up on him,” he hissed, “Get. Up.”

You did what you were told, following him to the bedroom, asked to kneel at his feet while he got changed. He shook out his hair, showering you in little water droplets that smelled like the shampoo you bought him. “Stay,” he commanded, going back into the other room. You hear something rustle and then, “Are you fucking kidding me?” He stomped back in with the notebook in his hand, “Does this belong to you?” “No, sir,” you said in a soft low voice. “So what is it doing on your desk?” he asked, “I know I didn’t put it there. Did you read it?” Tears welled in your eyes, you nodded, “Y-yes. Just one page, I promise.” Eddie sighed, tapping the corner of the book on the top of the dresser, “You’re really outdoing yourself, here.” “I’m s-s-sorry,” you choked out.

“Don’t cry,” he glowered. A phrase he usually said when he was wrapping you up in his arms after a spanking from Steve, but this was harsh and bitter – biting. “Since this whole thing is about self control, try it out,” he said, “Don’t fucking cry.” You sniffed, your eyes wide at the demand. You took a deep shuddering breath to try to self regulate. “That’s better,” he chided. He pulled you up for your kneeling position and brought you downstairs back into the hot kitchen. “Not in herrrreee,” you whined, “It’s too hot.” He roughly sat you down at the kitchen table, “I still have to finish making dinner for you, in case for you forgot what I’ve been doing all day.” Your heart sunk, you were ruining his whole big gesture – which was honestly Eddie’s favorite thing to do. Always one for theatrics. He slapped the notebook down in front of you and swiped through a few pages, leaning over you like your dad did when he was helping you with homework. “Let’s see…” he mumbled to himself, “Since I’m busy, it needs to keep you busy.” “There we go,” he said, pointing to a bullet on the list, “Read it out loud to me.” “You don’t have to keep admitting you don’t know how to read, Ed,” you smirked.

He wrapped your hair around his hand and yanked it back, “Don’t get cute with me. Do you want me to call Steve and have him come back here?”

You shook your head no and he let go of your hair, pointing back down to the bullet point on the list. “Have her write 40 lines with her right hand, supervised, use a ruler on her hands the moment her composition isn’t perfect. Make her start over every time. Put all the bad composition on the fridge to remind her how worthless she is,” you read out loud, your voice getting smaller and smaller with each word. “But I’m left handed,” you said to him. “Are you stupid? We know that,” he asked, his face annoyed and quizzical, “That’s why you have to use your right hand. It’s like Catholic school.”

You whined and huffed, the heat starting to get to you. The fan on the counter just blowing more hot air around. He pulled a wide wooden ruler out of the junk drawer and a pen, slamming them down on the table in front of you. He turned closer to the end of the notebook to a clean page and smoothed it out. “Since I have more shit to do, you only have to do ten, go,” he said, back in his position over you. They always had you write 'I will learn self control,’ when it came to touching yourself without asking, so you didn’t need the clarification. The pen felt wrong and uncomfortable in your right hand, you fumbled when you saw Eddie pick up the ruler. “Maybe it’s the heat, or because you’re ruining dinner, or because I don’t really like sharing my toys very often,” he said through gritted teeth, “But I can’t wait for you to fuck up.”

A tear spilled out of your eye at the fear of knowing it was gonna hurt when he got use out of that ruler. You put the pen to the paper, trying to smoothly write 'I’, but it came out more diagonal than anything. CRACK! The sound of the ruler on your knuckles made you jumped before the stinging pain bloomed. “OUCH!” you yelped, “That hurts, Ed.” “It’s. Supposed. To hurt,” he said, another crack of the ruler after every pause in his sentence, “Or else you don’t learn anything.” You looked up at him again, your eyes round and swimming with tears, “What if I was just really sorry? I’m so sorry Ed, you don’t have to be mad at me.”

“I am mad at you,” he said, “And I told you not to fuckin’ cry.” Your knuckles were already welting, “And what do you say after we punish you?” he asked. “Th-thank you,” you whispered. He ripped the paper out so a fresh one was in front of you.

“Start over,” he hissed. His jaw was tight while he watched you, eyes dark and brooding. He wasn’t just mad, you could tell he was hurt about something. You did start over, again, and again, and again. He barely spoke, just whacked that ruler down with vigor every time your hand merely slid wrong. Your knuckles were starting to break at the skin, little droplets of blood started peeking through the creases. “I said, perfect penmanship,” he growled after the seventh attempt, “What about that do you not understand?” “It’s h-hard after you hit my h-hands,” you responded, still doing your best to keep your tears in. “We’re gonna be here all night, aren’t we? Can’t even do this simple thing,” he grumbled, sighing and turning the heat down on the oven. He grabbed the oven mitts on the counter and took out the duck, letting it rest on a trivet over by the sink. You felt your nose burn at how stupid he made you feel. “You know I put in all this effort for you and you just like, you don’t even care,” he muttered, not really expecting you to hear him. “Hm?” you started, “Whad'you mean? Of course I care.”

The dominance in his stance was faltering, he leaned against the counter and looked at you, “I’ve been trying to keep you happy this whole week, and you’re still so hung up on Steve. It’s like I’m not even here unless you need to be put in your place.” “Ed–” you started. “And I get it, you were his girl first and you’re Daddy’s precious princess but, you’re my girl, too y'know?” he said, “I wanna take you out, I wanna get you a new dress…” “You can still do those things, we can do those things,” you said, finishing up your fourth line on the new page.

“Just forget it, stay focused,” he said while he came back to lean over you and watch, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his bandana. “You’re making me nervous,” you said, “It’s easier when you don’t watch me…” “Do you talk this much when you do lines for Daddy?” he asked, “Shut up, and write.” You flinched at his harshness, scared and sad about him, “Yes, Master.” “Hm?” you caught the blush burn his cheeks, a bashful grin peeking out from his hardened look, “What was that?” “Yes, Master,” you repeated, focusing your eyes on your lines but smirking at your own cleverness. “Baby, you can’t go around saying that to me when I’m supposed to be mad at you,” he mumbled, standing upright and pushing his hair out of his face. The heat of the kitchen had mostly dried it and he tied it back up in a bun at the base of his neck. His bangs were still puffy and wild against his face. You surveyed him, seeing the bulge growing in his jeans. “Can’t we do something else, sir?” you grinned, “I know how to make you not mad at me. I promise I learned my lesson.” You got on your knees in front of him, reaching for his belt. “I just wanna make you happy,” you really laid it on thick, undoing his belt with a clink and unzipping his jeans. He didn’t stop you from taking his cock out, still a little overwhelmed from his new nickname. “Fuck, kitten, you’re supposed to be in trouble,” he said, leaning back on his hands on the bar cart behind him. You let your hand glide with his skin, soft and silky, still smelling like his body wash and clean laundry. He peered down at you, catching your beaten knuckles as you stroked him, and pouted. He stopped your hand, taking it in his gently and pulled you up for your knees. “Did I do something wrong?” you asked, he was never one to pass up on a blowjob.

“No, no,” he said, he leaned in to kiss you, wet and aggressive. “Juss really needa fuck you right now,” he mumbled, kissing and biting at your neck. He pulled your shorts and underwear off with one fell swoop, hoisting you onto the kitchen table. You let out a squeal that turned into a deep moan while he pushed into you. His ringed hand hoisted up your leg to give him more access while he gripped your hip hard with the other, driving into you at a steady pace. Your breaths hitched at every thrust, he was hitting every spot just right. Your mouth hung open at his rhythm, sweat building on both of you. “It’s gotta be quick baby,” he said, panting, “I have to strain the au jus.” You whined into his quickened pace, feeling yourself get close. “M’ gonna…oh fuck, Ed,” you groaned, digging your nails into his shoulder, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” “Cum for me princess, come on,” he muttered in your ear, tilting you back a little, letting his thumb slip over your clit. That soft sensation did it for you, sending you yowling in the center of the kitchen with the curtains open. Eddie pulled out, sending hot wet seed all over your Camp Hawkins shirt – luckily missing the table as a whole. You both caught your breath, and you slid off the table. “That was, wow,” you said, “Wow.” “Yeah,” he breathed, “Yeah.” Eddie shook his head, getting himself back together. “Are you okay?” he asked, while you put your short back on. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you said. He came over and laid a gentle kiss on your forehead, lifting your hand and kissed right above your aching knuckles. “We’ll put some ice on it, okay?” he said, “You did so good for me.” You blushed, “I’m gonna change first.” “Can you do two more things for me?” he asked. “Yes.” “Can you clean this table, and then clean yourself up nice and pretty for dinner? It should be all ready when you’re done.” “Yes, chef,” you smiled, walking into the pantry to get your supplies. The phone started to ring and you paused, looking at the phone on the wall and then at Eddie. “You gonna get that? It’s probably Steve,” he said, turning his back to you and reaching for the sauce pans. “No,” you said, at the pantry door, “I’ll just call him tomorrow.” While you didn’t see it, Eddie flushed, his heart racing. His girl, at least for the week, just his girl.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #dom!eddie munson #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x readder #steddie x reader #steddie x you #stranger things fan fiction #dom!steve harrington #dom eddie munson #dom steve harrington #eddie munson fan fiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington smut #steddie x reader smut #the steddieverse

417 notes · View notes

skaruresonic · 10 months

Note

I will never get over Frontiers making me tired of Super Sonic. All because they just had to hype up those stupid Titans with arguably less character than Sage (no them being acknowledged by the narrative as parallels to Sonic and his friends doesn't count, it's just admitting they're copy-pastes). So when Update 3 unveiled Blue Eyed Super Sonic, and eventually Cyber Super Sonic (which is just Fleetway SS with black paint on), I simply go, "Why should I care when you're only half-admitting you overused Super Sonic as is, and tacking on more Super forms is a cheap answer to that very problem you made in the first place?" I don't care if we never see either of them again because in-game plot reasons, that only makes their existence even more pointless, IMO.

Yeah I almost feel like it borders on overexposure at this point. I was fine with the standard formula, if not a little bored, but even that seemed a necessary staple I could tolerate for the sake of storytelling.

But now they're just kinda pushing everything and the kitchen sink at you. How do we make Super forms seem more interesting? Add more Super forms, of course!

All because they just had to hype up those stupid Titans with arguably less character than Sage (no them being acknowledged by the narrative as parallels to Sonic and his friends doesn't count, it's just admitting they're copy-pastes)

All this becomes 10x funnier when you remember Big Arms can easily smack the Super form out of Sonic. Suddenly the Titans don't look so intimidating compared to "OH GOD HE'S GOT ME IN HIS GRIP"

#asks

23 notes · View notes

crescentblossom66 · 1 month

Text

Prompt 17 Sickly

The new and improved SS literally can't sink easily made its way through the thick ice of the arctic. The new equipment in form of an ice breaker really showed its worth in those harsh conditions. Aboard, the seals were working tirelessly, doing their best to please the vacationers which wasn't always easy. One seal had to climb up a tight rope just to deliver a worm cocktail to a crow that shoved a ticket into the seal's face that looked suspiciously fake, but who was to say that it wasn't real. The seal took the ticket from the crow, heading to the captain to ask him if that ticket was real, and if it was fake, what to do with the crow.

When the seal, who was rubbing their head after falling off the rope and onto the deck, arrived at the control room, they heard coughing. Their boss must have gotten sick! That was awful, if he got worse, the whole cruise liner had to stop unless one of the seal crew took over...even the seal knew that that was a very VERY stupid idea.

The worried seal hurried to the kitchen, nearly tripping over luggage that was left out in the hallway. A simple soup was in technicality quite easy to prepare...if one had to hands, with flippers, it was quite hard to even set up a pot and switch on the stove. The little seal nearly burned themselves on the hot stove top as they set up the water to boil. Water ended up on the floor when they put in a whole chicken which barely even fit into the pot, causing another seal to slip and fall. Chopping vegetable was a challenge to with the boat rocking as much as it did, the carrots and celery pieces were quite a bit big, but it was better than nothing, they thought. They actually managed to season the soup well enough, despite the troubles the pepper shaker gave them as it was somehow so clogged that they had to free the openings at the top, it resulted in a big sneeze that made the seal fall over coupled with a rough wave.

After around two hours of hard labor, the results were quite impressive, especially considering the horrible track record of the seals had when it came to...anything, really. They brought a bowl of the soup over to their captain who eyed it suspiciously before giving in to the cute and expectant look of the seal that was waiting for his reaction to their creation. He was pleasantly surprised that the rather strange looking soup didn't outright kill him, it even tasted acceptable, not amazing, but better than anything his crew had ever made. The seal that made the soup was subsequently left on kitchen duty, and somehow managed to make the service on the ship go from abysmal to horrible.

#ahit fanfic #ahit august writing prompts #ahit seals #ahit walrus captain

5 notes · View notes

underratedandoverit · 1 year

Text

You Wanna Wish Away Your Sins (2/3)

After losing to Best Friends at Arcade Anarchy, Kip undergoes shoulder surgery. One person reaching out to him afterwards sends Kip spiraling, turning all the pain and suffering in him into… Flowers? Flowers growing in his lungs?

Kip Sabian/Chuck Taylor. Hanahaki disease. Angst. Hurt/comfort. Emotional hurt/comfort. One-sided attraction. Also tagged this from now on with manipulative Kip.

Marked Mature on AO3 for general content. Warnings for mentions of hospitals, surgery, medical stuff. Described feelings for choking and vomiting.

Other characters on-screen include Penelope Ford. Rest of Best Friends are mentioned. Background ship of Penelope/Kris is heavily implied, but never specifically shown.

part 1 || part 3

On AO3

I really didn't mean to write this for a month but hey mental illness be damned lmao. This is more of a setup for the final act than anything else, I hope it's not super repetitive, I tried to minimize things during editing.

Also this chapter is 7,1k words long I am SO sorry.

@midnightpretenders0 @stormbornpirate @ss-trashboat

---------------------------

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes Kip walked into the living room, not being even slightly surprised to see Penelope already standing there. He hadn’t woken up when she had arrived and Penelope didn’t announce her arrival very loudly, which was just fine with him. She had acted more or less as his caretaker since he was discharged from the hospital, both of them knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to take care of himself entirely on his own. Which became very obvious very fast after the first night when Kip had called her in pain after the painkillers had worn off.

“Good morning.”

Penelope perked up a little, eyes shooting over her shoulder towards him, clearly a little surprised as she hadn’t heard him walk into the room. She offered him a smile though. “Morning. Did you sleep well?”

“Better,” Kip shrugged, walking past her towards the kitchen. “It still fucking hurts though.”

“Of course it does,” Penelope stated, leaving the items she was shuffling through on the coffee table, walking after him into the kitchen. “You were literally cut up and sewn back together barely a week ago. It’s not going to pass that fast.”

Kip just nodded absentmindedly, grabbing a cup from the sink before walking over to the coffee maker. Penelope had arranged everything ready for him, learning from the mornings before that food was somehow the first thing in Kip’s mind when he rolled out of bed. He was very grateful for all the work she did for him, knowing that he would most likely barely actually get out of bed if it wasn’t for Penelope to make the early recovery days even somewhat bearable.

After pouring himself a cup of coffee Kip took a seat on one of the stools by the kitchen island, watching as Penelope sat on another seat from across him after sliding a plateful of breakfast items in front of him, observing the Brit as Kip took a sip of his coffee, nodding his head a little as if to give his approval of the quality of it. He averted Penelope’s eyes, her look almost a bit too expecting for him, almost as if she was waiting for him to strike a conversation with her that he didn’t want to have right there and then.

Instead Kip coughed a little, feeling the by now way too familiar scratching in his throat.

Oh god, not now.

“You’ve been coughing so much lately,” Penelope muttered, watching as Kip tried to hide his mouth behind his hand as he hastily set the coffee cup down, having maybe finally learned that he couldn’t use the other to cover his face anymore. Without Penelope noticing – he was fairly sure she didn’t, she would have without a doubt said something – Kip managed to get the few petals out of his lungs, hiding them in his hand before he returned to his coffee, drinking it down in hopes that it would help with the burning in his throat. “Ever since you got back from the hospital. You better not be sick with something.”

“It’s fine,” Kip assured her, his voice hoarse as he cleared his throat a little, still feeling something stuck in there. Penelope just shook her head at him, pushing herself up from her seat, preparing to get back into cleaning the living room like she had been.

“Just make sure I don’t catch it. I have no time to be sick.”

Kip watched as she walked away, letting out a quiet sigh as he glanced at the few purple tinted rose petals in his hand.

“Yeah, I’m sure you won’t be catching this.”

It had been a week, and Kip still didn’t have a solid explanation to any of this. He had tried his absolute best to work it out after the initial freak out in the hospital, but so far there were no answers. When he had coughed the petals up the first time, the nurse that came to his aid after hearing his horrified screams in the hospital room was convinced that the petals were just dropped from the freshly brought set of roses that sat on the nightstand next to the bed and Kip in his tired, painkiller amplified state just didn’t notice neither the flowers nor the petals before. She didn’t take him seriously, only gave him some sedatives to put him in a sleepless slumber so he would stop freaking out.

Ever since then Kip hadn’t told anyone about the petals. Most of the time he managed to keep the coughing to a minimum around other people, like he did around Penelope just now, keeping the petals down in his throat or in the worst case scenario hidden in his mouth until he was alone to get rid of them. The coughing fits came and went, mostly at random and he had little to no control over them, their timing or the intensity, always starting with scratching in his throat until it became unbearable, making it hard to breath, ending with Kip coughing out at least a handful of purple tinted rose petals.

He had thought about telling Penelope about it, but without having close to no idea himself why all this was happening, Kip had decided against it. Penelope was the levelheaded one out of the two of them and she put up with a lot of Kip’s nonsense already, but this might have been above even her understanding. And if Kip couldn’t explain it to even himself, well…

He wasn’t going to risk it with Penelope.

Finishing his plate while pondering through all of this before getting up to get more coffee, Kip poured the petals from his hand into the trash, sighing a little. He had tried researching the phenomena he was experiencing to the best of his ability, but every source he could find was either fictional or made little to no sense to him while he was reading it. The only connecting thread he could find in all of this was the few sets of words that seemed to come up in everything he found, no matter how grounded in reality it was.

Unrequited love.

Flowers growing in his lungs.

Be loved, get surgery… Or die.

Chewing on his lower lip, Kip sat back down to the stool he had stood up from, sipping on a fresh cup of coffee as he dwelt in his thoughts. He wasn’t really sure what it all meant, but he sure had noticed that as time passed with him coughing the petals, it seemed like the throat scratching got worse over time and he had a harder time catching proper amounts of air into his lungs. At first Kip had just put it down as the fault of the medication, but the more he looked into this whole thing, it seemed like this was definitely a lot worse than just medication messing with his body or the short time he had been in bed rest already messing him up physically.

There was something else, as another coughing fit reminded him of, making a few petals drop onto the counter of the kitchen island. Kip stared at them for a moment, slowly wiping them to the floor. Watching them gently float down until they were out of his view Kip sighed.

How did something so beautiful make him hurt so much on the inside? And maybe even more importantly, why?

“…Are you even listening?”

Kip’s eyes shot up, meeting Penelope’s gaze as she leaned against the door frame at the kitchen entrance, arms crossed over her chest. By her reaction Kip was thinking she hadn’t actually seen the petals still, but he had been too deep in his own thoughts the past few moments to notice her talking to him from the living room.

Kip shook his head slowly. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Penelope sighed, but her features clearly softened as he finally replied to her. “I was just asking if you needed me around today for anything. Or if it’s okay if I leave.”

Kip sipped his coffee, eyeing Penelope for a moment. She had done so much for him that he never asked for, just because they were friends and she lived close by, and was one of the people he trusted the most, knowing their shared background and the work they’d done together and everything. Penelope had been the first person Kip had called when he heard his shoulder required surgery, she was the one that made sure he got in and out of the hospital with this whole ordeal, and now she was here, caring for him when he had asked for none of it.

He finally shook his head again. “I think I can handle myself for a day. I don’t feel worse than before today.”

“Which reminds me,” Penelope spoke up, walking back into the living room for a moment. Kip raised a brow at her as she re-emerged into the kitchen, but his face twisted into a little smile as he watched Penelope slide his pillbox across the kitchen island towards him. “Your meds. Remember to take them.”

Lowering the coffee cup from his hand Kip pulled the pillbox closer, struggling a little to open the correct container with one hand, eventually managing it on his own. He could feel Penelope’s eyes burning holes to the top of his head as she watched him wrestle with the small box, but it was obvious that she wasn’t going to step in before Kip asked her to. She knew he was slowly learning to do things like this on his own, and that she just needed to give him time with them.

“What would I do without you,” Kip sighed with a smile tucking in the corner of his lips as he finally observed the pill he managed to free from its plastic prison, popping it into his mouth, drinking it down with the coffee he had at hand. Penelope just rolled her eyes at him a little, but couldn’t help but to smile. “Well, today you have to figure it out. I’m heading out with Kris.”

Kip nodded, hand reaching for the pillbox again as he snapped the lid of the container shut, handing it back to Penelope. She knew where to store it and how to fill it better than he did, though Kip would eventually have to learn that as well.

“Shopping trip with the girls?”

Penelope grabbed the pillbox from him, Kip being sure he saw a soft blush crossing her cheeks as she giggled a little. “More like A Date with The Girl.”

Her enthusiasm was so obvious with the emphasis she put on her words that Kip couldn’t help but to smile at her, watching Penelope twirl a coil of her hair around her finger as she proceeded to leave the kitchen again to handle her business with the pillbox. His happiness for her was short lived unfortunately, as Kip could feel the by now way too familiar scratching on his throat again all of a sudden, only this time even stronger than at any point this morning so far. It almost felt like something was trying to make its way forcefully out of him, like sharp nails scraping against the walls of his lungs, ripping them to pieces.

And then the doorbell rang.

Penelope quickly showed back up to the doorway, Kip trying to hide the sudden struggle to breathe as she beamed at him, obviously very happy about her upcoming day.

“That’s probably Kris. I’ll see you later, text me if you need anything, I can stop by when I’m heading back home.”

Kip just nodded back at her with a small thumbs up, trying to keep on a false smile as he tried to hold the coughs back. He watched Penelope leave the doorway, disappearing from his view again, and as soon as she did, Kip sprung up on his feet, almost throwing himself to the sink as a wave of petals forcefully made its way out of him through his mouth. Gasping for air between a few small waves of rose petals exiting him, he leaned against the kitchen sink, barely keeping himself up on his feet, feeling like the air had been completely punched out of him.

Wiping a shaky hand over his face, Kip tried to take a deep breath as he closed his eyes, the burning worse than it had been since the first time he had vomited the petals out that night in the hospital. He could feel the sweat on his forehead and tears stinging in the corners of his eyes, reminding himself much of the worst hangovers of some of his younger years. And yet, somehow, this was nothing like that and far worse than anything he had ever experienced at the same time.

“Kip?”

He slowly straightened up, holding himself up against the sink with one hand, turning around to lean back against it. Opening his eyes Kip looked across the room back at Penelope, the worry and confusion clearly written on her face, though Kip was definitely quick to reflect that same emotion back at her, having thought that she had already left.

“Are, are you okay?”

Kip just waved his hand a little, offering her a weak smile. It probably wasn’t very convincing, but it was the best he could do at the moment, to give her a small amount of peace of mind if nothing else.

“I… I don’t think the painkillers are still sitting very well with me today.” He inhaled deeply, finally getting some air into his lungs that didn’t burn, surprisingly enough considering how different the situation had just been mere seconds ago. “But I thought you left.”

“Well, yeah, Kris is outside.” Kip’s eyes narrowed a little, brows furrowing in confusion. “But, uh, there is… Someone here to see you.”

Before Kip could ask, Penelope stepped a bit deeper into the kitchen, leaving the doorway open for a brief moment before another figure stepped through it. Upon seeing the man enter the kitchen, his kitchen in his house, Kip could feel something tightening in his chest as his fingers grasped onto the edge of the sink behind him just a little bit tighter. No, this time it certainly wasn’t his lungs filling up with rose petals to the point of nearly bursting out of him.

This ache was coming straight from his heart upon seeing the slightly awkward Chuck Taylor standing just a few feet away from him.

Kip didn’t register his greeting, only saw Chuck slightly wave his hand at him. Kip’s eyes shot over to Penelope, clearly begging for help as he wasn’t sure at all how to handle the situation that had suddenly evolved around him, which she thankfully understood as she walked up to him, Kip mentally letting out a sigh of relief watching her walk around the kitchen island to the side where she couldn’t possibly see the content in the kitchen sink. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to explain to her why he had gotten sick with odd colored rose petals.

“What is he doing here?” Kip whispered, eyes darting between Penelope and Chuck, despite knowing how awfully clear it made it in this situation that the other man in the room was the topic of their secretive conversation. Chuck just avoided eye contact, almost pretending that he wasn’t there as the two blonds continued their whispering, just looking around the kitchen walls as if he found them extremely interesting.

“Kris drove him here. He said he wanted to see you, insisted even. Talked about some apology or something.”

Kip’s brain was reeling, putting the pieces together slowly. He hadn’t heard anything back from Chuck since he had gotten back from the hospital and replied to the other man’s initial message, having just been left on read. Kip honestly hadn’t expected anything more out of that offer, just assuming in the moment of Chuck hearing that he was going into surgery and holding himself responsible for it, he crumbled and sent the message.

This was the last thing Kip would have expected him to do, and even less so Chuck being the one doing it, especially without Kip asking for that help he was offering.

“Do you want me to chase him out?”

Kip’s widened eyes finally landed back onto Penelope, it dawning on him that he never actually told her that Chuck had reached out to him about the surgery. Maybe it was given, considering how Kip had ended up there and how basically everyone had messaged him about it around that time, so it wouldn’t be as odd to think that Chuck did it too.

Maybe Kip was the only one making it odd and awkward by thinking that it was.

Especially as in the moment he also realized that he never told Penelope that he might have real feelings for Chuck, either.

“Kip?” He blinked at her, but didn’t respond. “I really gotta go, Kris is waiting outside. Just a word and I’ll drag him out with me.”

Kip slowly shook his head, his mind still spinning as he was trying to put the whole situation together. He wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, to keep Chuck at arms reach like this especially if they were going to be alone with just the two of them, but at the same time something was telling Kip that he needed to do this. For the sake of his own sanity, if nothing else.

For the sake of… Whatever this thing was that was wrong with him, as he couldn’t shake off the feeling that all of this was related somehow. And this was as good of an opportunity as any, at least in his mind right then, to try to get at least a little bit closer to some answers. And Chuck himself, for that matter.

“It’s… It’s fine,” Kip finally spoke up, eyes traveling from Penelope to Chuck, who still tried to look interested in anything else in the kitchen than the two of them. A small smile tucked the corner of Kip’s lips, Penelope without a doubt noticing it too as she remained silent, but her eyes surrounded by the perfectly done makeup narrowed slightly. “I’ll see what he wants. I think I can handle it.”

“…Are you sure?” Kip turned back towards her, seeing a real flash of worry in Penelope’s eyes. “After what happened and he… You know.”

Kip watched Penelope motion towards his arm hanging on the sling, the girl biting her lip a little as she was trying to be careful about choosing her next words correctly. “After all of this, are you sure you want to be alone with him?”

He wanted to laugh, but held the sound back, just smiling at Penelope a little, hoping it would melt off at least some of her concerns. They were valid points, Kip admitted that, even if Penelope already knew that what had happened to Kip wasn’t Chuck’s fault in the slightest.

“It’s Chuck Taylor. He wouldn’t hurt an already injured man. It’s all good.”

Penelope clearly wasn’t still entirely convinced of this, but she knew better than to stall the inevitable and continue to debate this with Kip, so instead she just gave a little pat on his healthy arm, offering him a smile. “Just… If he tries anything or you need help, just let me know, okay? I’ll –”

“It’s okay. You go enjoy the day with Kris. Don’t worry about me.”

She honestly wanted to fight him on it, but the smile Kip returned to her made Penelope drop the topic. With a sigh she turned on her heels, eyes landing on Chuck as she approached him on her way out of the kitchen, nudging him closer by tucking the sleeve of his shirt, whispering something to him that Kip couldn’t hear. He could have sworn he saw a quick flash of almost fear in Chuck’s eyes though, making it fairly obvious what sort of words Penelope was giving to him. Chuck just nodded before Penelope let him go, the blonde sending Kip a quick look and a nod before she exited the kitchen, leaving the two men awkwardly standing there as Chuck slowly looked at Kip from across the kitchen island as they both could hear the front door of the house being closed.

“Uh… Hi?”

Chuck waved an awkward hand at him again, Kip forcing a small smile on his lips as he shook his head a little. He honestly felt a little bad for lying to Penelope, as he had no actual idea what it would be like when they were left alone together with just the two of them with Chuck, Kip just assumed that the other man was as well-behaved as he had convinced to himself that Chuck was. After all, there was never an actual intention to hurt Kip, the way things had happened was just an unfortunate coincidence.

“Would you like some coffee?” Kip tried to offer him a smile, motioning towards the coffee maker on the counter next to him with his free hand. Chuck glanced over at it, nodding his head a little, though he was clearly hesitant. Kip returned the gesture, turning on his heels to reach for a coffee cup on the dish drying rack next to the sink before walking over to the coffee maker. Only then it seemed to click in Chuck’s mind that he was basically asking a one armed man for some awkward hospitality, even if it was in his own house, making him quickly round the kitchen island to the coffee maker.

“I got it, I got it,” Kip just smiled at him, Chuck stopping next to him to observe as Kip poured coffee into the cup, easily sliding the coffee pot back into its original place afterwards. “Just because I’m one arm short doesn’t mean I’m completely incapable.”

“I-I know, I was just--”

“Don’t worry about it.” Kip shook his head, trying to keep the smile on his face despite the awkward feel of the moment. He couldn’t get on Chuck’s nerves now, Kip had to remind himself that Chuck was just here to help. To apologize. He was here to make peace, and Kip didn’t need to treat him like the villain of this story that he definitely even wasn’t.

Pushing the thoughts aside from his mind, Kip reached over to the kitchen island, picking the coffee cup he used before into his hand, finishing the coffee in it before pouring himself a new cup. At this point it was more of a formality to keep his hands occupied and hopefully to make Chuck feel a little less awkward than he would be if he was the only one around enjoying a drink, than Kip actually needing another cup of caffeine to get him started on the day.

With Kip taking the charge, he led the two of them out of the kitchen and into the living room, motioning Chuck to take a seat on the couch. Kip wasn’t sure how long he had planned this visit to last, as Penelope had only mentioned that Chuck was here to present him with an apology of some sort. Kip already had a pretty good idea what he was about, the texts he had received from Chuck on the day of his surgery were permanently burned into his mind, and they hadn’t talked about it since Kip had sent him an acknowledging response a day later.

“So how are things?”

Kip looked at Chuck, shrugging a little as he sipped on his coffee.

“You don’t look terrible,” Chuck continued before the silence could linger around them for longer, making anything he said sound desperate and more awkward than it already was. “I mean. For someone who had surgery only like a week ago. Sorry.”

Kip shook his head with a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry, that’s still nicer than anything Penelope has told me all week.”

Chuck hummed a little in response before focusing more on his coffee, but Kip was certain he could see a little smile twitching in the corner of his lips before they disappeared behind the cup. Which was a relief to him, knowing that at least his little quip was funny enough to ease some of the clear tension in the living room. He was getting a good grade in being a good host today.

“Speaking of Penelope.” Kip raised a brow at the sudden direction the conversation was taking, him having not expected it, especially being told earlier what Chuck was here for. “She spends a lot of time here these days, huh?”

Kip’s eyes narrowed a little, him not really liking the tone that such a question was presented to him with, as usually people asking about the relationship between him and Penelope thought there was something more than genuine friendship going on there. Kip would have thought especially Chuck would know better than to ask such questions, him being friends with Kris and all who could have easily told him the true nature of things.

Besides, Kip absolutely did not want Chuck to have the wrong idea about the things that were going on with him and Penelope.

“She’s the one friend that lives close enough to help me out, with, you know, all of this.” Kip motioned at his arm hanging on the sling, watching Chuck nod back to him. “…And you do know she’s dating Kris, right? You’re friends with her, if someone should know, it should be you.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Chuck muttered, taking another sip of his coffee. “Just… Looking out for her, you know?”

Kip was really hoping that wasn’t actually all Chuck was trying to achieve with that line of questioning, but he remained quiet, both men just focusing on their coffee as the silence finally fell into the living room. Probably with anyone else Kip would have found the silence comfortable, but with Chuck around like this all of a sudden, with minimal explanation on what he was actually doing here after everything, it was just making Kip a bit uneasy. He wasn’t going to push the issue at least immediately, in hopes that he wouldn’t annoy Chuck too much.

Kip finally had some alone time with him. He hadn’t seen Chuck in person for a week and a half, and before that they didn’t spend time together outside of a few rare occasions when they were somewhere with a group of other people. And now he was here, sitting on his couch, drinking his coffee out of one of his coffee mugs, observing his decor in his living room. It was more than Kip had ever asked for, more than he had ever hoped for, and quite honestly with how things had been going the past week, it was something Kip desperately needed.

Having Chuck Taylor in such a close proximity as this was the chance Kip needed in hopes of trying to make all of this right. To make all of this make sense.

“But really though,” Chuck’s voice finally broke the silence again after a moment, almost startling Kip out of his thoughts. “How are you doing? It can’t be easy to deal with everything with one arm.”

“No, not really. Especially when it’s your non-dominant arm.”

Chuck winced a little at the mere thought, Kip just carefully shrugging one shoulder. “Yeah, it sucks, but what can you do. It could be worse, I could have no arms.”

“That would really be the worst case possible, huh?”

Kip chuckled at him, humming a little as he sipped on his coffee again. This seemed to be going well now, at least by his standards. Being able to just joke around like this with someone other than Penelope despite his current condition was refreshing, usually Kip had to deal with people wanting to talk about this topic more seriously than he did. Sure, it was a rather serious situation, he wouldn’t have required surgery otherwise, but that didn’t mean he needed to be all grave and gloom about it at all times. And at least Chuck was throwing that mentality back at him even a little bit, which Kip just found kind of nice.

“I’d imagine you get bored easily, dealing with all of this. Not really being able to do anything and all.”

“Sometimes,” Kip muttered, eyes almost on instinct landing on the tv remote on the coffee table. “Especially if I don’t have any company. You can’t really play games or something with just one hand, so I just end up watching a lot of things. I can’t tell you the amount of shows I’ve binged in the past week alone compared to maybe the rest of my entire life.”

Chuck nodded, silently pondering over his words, Kip picking it up as a sign to continue. “You just kind of realize how used you are to having two functional arms and how much easier even simple household activities are. Cooking is so much easier when you can lift a pot full of water with both hands. Showering feels incredible when you don’t have to be extra careful about your cuts and stitches. Being awake without having to take painkillers, let alone sleeping through the entire night without waking up to excruciating pain… You know what I mean.”

“Yeah…” Chuck’s voice drifted off, Kip stealing a curious glance towards him. Chuck was staring at the bottom of his coffee cup, clearly contemplating on something, and Kip was slightly worried about being able to decipher a look of distress on his face. Kip almost wanted to ask him about it, but thought better of it, not wanting to derail this relatively relaxed conversation to whatever else was in Chuck’s mind. Unfortunately for him, Chuck had other thoughts, as he slowly shook his head, inhaling sharply, Kip’s eyes shooting towards him almost a little bit too quickly.

“Listen, I…” His voice was quiet, Chuck stopping to think again for a moment, not bearing to look back at Kip who he most definitely felt staring at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I never meant to hurt you like that. I’m so sorry about everything that happened.”

His words registered pretty fast, but it still took a moment in Kip’s mind to connect everything together. Biting his lip his eyes shot away from the other man, mentally beating himself up for whatever he said that brought up this topic so suddenly. Kip had wanted to avoid talking about this for as long as possible, of course the moment Penelope had said that Chuck wanted to apologize for something Kip knew this was eventually going to be talked about, but they were having such a nice time just moments before. They were just having a regular conversation, a thing that they rarely ever did together, and it all just felt so nice at least to Kip.

Most importantly right now though, Kip needed to tell him the truth. Chuck still clearly lived with the belief that he had caused all of this, that Kip��s injury was his fault and that it all happened because of the bump he had initiated, even if it was under mutual understanding and agreement. Kip hadn’t talked about it with him so far, having avoided saying anything about it, in texts or in person, kind of just hoping that it wasn’t being brought up. When Chuck had said in the initial text messages that he was sorry, Kip had honestly thought that that was it, especially since they didn’t talk about it after that in the past week at all. Well, they hadn’t talked at all in the past few days to be honest, but that had just solidified it in Kip’s mind that this conversation was over before it even happened to begin with.

Unfortunately for him, he was wrong about it. And now Kip needed to deal with it, and probably face the consequences of not telling Chuck the truth immediately, having left him to live with the regret of causing this much pain and suffering to Kip up until this point. All he needed was to tell Chuck the truth, to be honest about it, to just say it wasn’t his fault. That’s all Kip needed to do.

“It’s…”

Tell him the truth.

“It’s fine. Accidents happen.”

Fuck.

Chuck nodded, somehow looking even more discouraged than he did before. Kip knew exactly why, but he couldn’t bring himself to correct his words.

The only thought in his mind was that if he told Chuck the truth, he would just walk away from him. Just like how he had left Kip on read for a week after reaching out to him when Kip had told him that surgery went well and everything was okay, Kip was afraid that Chuck would leave him now if he knew this wasn’t actually his fault.

It was just a little white lie, and if it was giving Kip a chance to spend time with Chuck, to maybe fix this entire thing, it was worth it all to him.

Almost on cue at the thought, Kip felt a familiar scratching in his throat. Almost as if it was mocking him, making fun of Kip for not being able to tell Chuck what was really going on. The shame gnawing on him on the inside, Kip tried his best to push the feeling aside, letting out a quiet cough, hoping it would help with the growing burning in his lungs.

“It could have happened to anyone. It’s the risk we take.”

Chuck didn’t reply back to him, but he was in deep thought, processing Kip’s words. Kip tried to hold himself back from explaining any further, not wanting to make things sound any worse than they probably already were in Chuck’s mind, him thinking that all this really was his fault. It could lead into something in this scenario that Kip didn’t want, expose his lies or drag him down deeper than he wanted to go with this whole thing, at least for the time being. Maybe eventually he was ready to tell Chuck the truth, if it even mattered at that point anymore.

The honest truth right now was that the less Chuck knew, the better chances Kip had at keeping him close by. And the closer Chuck was to him, the easier it was for Kip to try to decipher this riddle he was living with that included rose petals coming out of his lungs every now and then, but especially when Kip was thinking about the man sitting next to him on the couch just a little bit too long.

He coughed again, watching from the corner of his eye as Chuck shot a quick look that almost resembled worry towards him.

“I’m fine,” Kip smiled a little at him, coughing again. It was getting worse, he could feel it, so Kip quickly pushed himself up on his feet. He could never quite predict when or how forcefully the petals would be pushing out of him, so the sooner he got out of sight before it happened, the better. “I’m just going to get some water. Do you need anything from the kitchen?”

Chuck shook his head slowly, watching as Kip spun around on his heels, making his hurried exit from the living room and into the kitchen. He was barely able to make it back to the sink as he coughed again, loudly and almost violently as the purple tinted petals he was so used to by now appeared again, landing to the bottom of the kitchen sink where the previous pile was still waiting to be cleaned up. Kip tried to keep the noises down, not wanting to draw attention to himself and his condition, knowing how difficult it would be to explain. He struggled with it himself, he had not told Penelope about it, Chuck was the last person Kip wanted to know anything. Especially if this was all caused by him, indirectly or not, as Kip had thought all this occurred.

Kip straightened himself up against the sink, glancing over his shoulder towards the doorway, being quietly thankful that he found it empty. He was worried that Chuck would follow him, especially after the wretched noises Kip was making, just to check on him, but apparently he wasn’t loud enough. That, or Chuck just didn’t care about them, which was a thought Kip immediately pushed away as he could feel it causing more burning in his throat, not wanting to deal with another wave of petals.

He ran the faucet, waiting for the water to turn cold, watching as the flowing water grabbed some of the petals from the sink to play around with. Kip found it odd that every time they got out of him, the petals were almost in near perfect condition – he had never seen one that was torn up, they were almost all identical and symmetrical to one another as far as he had compared, and every time they were almost like freshly plucked straight from a flower. Kip never threw up anything else when the petals exited his body, it was almost like they came from a completely different source than anything else a normal human being would be throwing up.

And as they swirled around in the sink while Kip reached his coffee cup underneath the running water, he thought that in all this time he had never seen one wither away no matter how much time passed. He still had some in the trash from earlier in the week and they still looked exactly the same, hell he kept one petal to examine it later from the first night he threw them up in the hospital, and it remained unchanged since then.

Pulling the coffee cup back to himself, now filled with water, Kip took a sip from it, feeling it make him feel slightly better. The back of his throat was still burning, he could feel the scratching somewhere in his chest, but after ejecting some of the petals again the feeling was milder than before. That’s how it always went, Kip had learned that much. It was one of the two things he could count on, the other one being that somehow whenever his mind wandered off to Chuck, these things started to happen. He understood the connection from what he had been able to discover about this condition, but it still baffled Kip that this could happen in the first place.

Finishing the cup of water Kip poured himself another one, returning to the living room. Before he could get there though, he stopped in the doorway, hearing Chuck talking to someone. Staying out of sight on the side of the kitchen, Kip peeped into the living room carefully, hoping Chuck wasn’t able to see him, spotting the brunet still sitting on the couch, now with his phone pressed against his ear.

“Yeah man, I think I have to stay here for a while.”

Kip’s brows furrowed but he remained silent, his heart doing an extra lap as he realized Chuck’s words. Him? Stay? Here?

“Listen, I don’t really like it either, but… I kinda did promise him that if he needed something, I would be there, since… You know.”

Kip leaned against the door frame, pulling his head back into the kitchen, just sipping on his water and listening. Chuck was right, he had promised that after all. Kip hadn’t said anything about needing help or company today, but apparently Chuck had decided that he needed it. Which Kip was thankful for, more ways than he could express or actually say out loud, honestly.

“Just for today. Look-- Trent, let me finish. I’m just gonna keep him company today, okay? We can do stuff tomorrow. I promise.”

Kip nodded to himself, pushing himself off from the door frame before he inhaled deeply, walking back into the living room as if nothing had happened and he hadn’t heard anything just now. He just smiled at Chuck, who quickly got off the phone as the Brit arrived back, taking a seat on the couch. Kip sipped on his water, not wanting to directly jump into asking Chuck about the call to expose himself as a filthy eavesdropper, but at the same time Kip didn’t really know where to take the conversation from here.

“So uh.” Kip glanced at Chuck, watching the man just shrug a little as his hand reached for the remote on the coffee table, Kip raising a questioning brow at him. “Would you like to… I dunno, hang out or something? Since Penelope isn’t here, so you don’t get bored or whatever.”

Kip took another sip of his water, almost pretending to ponder over the question for a while as Chuck turned the television on without waiting for his answer, surfing through the channels to try to find something interesting enough for both of them to busy themselves with. Of course Kip wanted him around, it had been the only thing he had been thinking about since Chuck showed up unannounced earlier. He was the key to all of this after all, and even if he wasn’t, Kip would be lying if he said that he didn’t want this chance to be around Chuck today. Or any chance that ever presented itself for them to hang out, really.

“Since you’re already here, why not.” Kip kicked himself mentally for trying to sound almost too nonchalant about it. The last thing he needed was to give Chuck the wrong idea about how much he actually wanted him to be there. He had to find the perfect balance, just enough to make sure Chuck knew Kip wanted him, but also that Chuck didn’t know that Kip wanted him. He needed to make that connection, but not ruin it with his over enthusiasm so he wouldn’t preemptively ruin it all. “I also have some games I think you might be interested in.”

Chuck nodded, watching Kip lower the coffee cup from his hand before motioning towards the tv stand and the cabinets underneath it to emphasize his point. As Chuck stood from the couch to check out the selection Kip spoke about, the Brit allowed himself to sink into his own thoughts for a brief moment, trying to convince himself that this was a good idea.

This was what he needed. This was the breakthrough he had been looking for. Chuck Taylor was right there, within his grasp, and all Kip needed to do from this point forward was to make sure that Chuck fell madly in love with him.

#fic #character: kip sabian #character: chuck taylor #ship: chuckkip #fic: you wanna wish away your sins #setting: hanahaki #aew fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction #character: penelope ford

21 notes · View notes

smhtaehyung · 2 years

Text

6 hours ➣ HOUR 4

hour 1, hour 2, hour 3, hour 4

summary: Jungkook pulls you in the bathroom to have some fun. The party takes a turn for the worse. Jimin fights with heavy intoxication as chaos continues echoing through the house. Taehyung slips back into sobriety.

Masterlist - under construction

Pairings: fuckboy!tae x reader, crush!jk x reader, jm x crush!reader , hoseok x random

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

wordcount: 4k words

Genre: smut, college au, nonidol!au, love cube sorta thing

warnings: alcohol use, drug use, slight existential angst, innapropriate sexual comments, graphic depictions of smut, fingering, oral (f. m. recieving), kinky dares, slut shaming, protected sex, overstimulation, thigh kink, dirty talk, spit kink, multiple orgasms, degrading, face fucking >> reader is in love with jk, jimin is in love with a reader, taehyung is just there being hot and flirty.

Taglist: (at the bottom) If you want to be in the taglist, reply to this post or dm me to stay updated :)

Chapter 5 release:

9th of October > 11 pm (CET)

Hour 4 "When all hell breaks loose" Time: [ 2:25 AM ]

It was all going south. Maybe it was your raging instinct which was telling you not to follow Jungkook so easily to the bathroom, but you were in no shape to fight with yourself anymore. The strong intoxication was ruining all of you, including already deteriorating friendships between guys like Jungkook and Jimin. Jungkook's soft hand was holding yours, making you feel at peace with possibly a terrible decision. Jungkook really seemed like a shitty friend to Jimin, so now you finally understood Taehyung's ramblings. From comforting him outside to sneaking a peek and a cheeky touch of you inside. Walking upstairs, you felt yourself breaking down a little bit, realizing this entire loud and chaotic night was taking its toll on you.

"I need to go to the bathroom." You whispered to Jungkook as you walked past the bathroom in the hallway upstairs. The hallway was completely empty as somebody just exited the bathroom. He stopped and opened the bathroom door for you.

"You can go do your thing first."

"It's okay. I don't need to actually use the bathroom." You slurred a little bit. Jungkook realized you might be just as drunk as him by this point. He had no idea you chugged an entire cup of strong gin and tonic before you found Taehyung in the kitchen.

"What?" He giggled, scrunching his nose.

"I just need to cry. No need for peeing."

"Oh." Jungkook let out a remorseful giggle, feeling sorry to see you like this. Still, you looked pretty adorable. He hugged you and pulled you inside the bathroom.

"Talk to me. You okay?"

"No. He hates me." You leaned against the wall, sighing.

"He doesn't hate you, he just needed to say something. It's not easy for him, you know? Don't stress about it. He'll be fine." Jungkook finished a drink he had in his hand, putting the empty cup on the bathroom sink. You found comfort in Jungkook's tone, making you believe you were panicking slightly too much. Still, you appreciated his caring gestures and gentle words.

"Sorry for calling you one of Jimin's "fuckboy friends"."

"You never said my name."

"Well, I was thinking it then."

"I know, it's just...I'm-You're such a bad friend." You scoffed.

"I know. I should stop drinking."

Jungkook's comment made you overthink ss it usually did. Was he really blaming alcohol for his attraction towards you?

"Is alcohol just a reason though?" You raised your head slightly, your hair uncovering your tired eyes.

"No, but I don't think you want to hear my answer." His tone was numb, almost too direct for your liking.

"Why?"

"Because I know you like me." Jungkook kept his eyes fixed on you.

"Uhm, hey-" You started speaking out of panic immediately, but gave up soon as you realized you didn't have absolutely anything on your mind to say.

"Listen. I can tell you one thing." He started speaking, making you feel at ease you didn't need to do that anymore.

"If you want to have fun, I'm still here." Jungkook's hand found a way to hold you by the cheek, bringing you closer.

Your whole drunk body was telling you to do this, to get more that you were craving for. You could finally have him, even if it was just physical. To you, it didn't seem so bad and soon enough, you were immersed into kissing him, making him breathe heavier.

Suddenly, another idea appeared in your mind. Pure and raw dominance you wanted to feel over him. You wanted him to groan and moan for you and you only.

Your body was reacting to his touch with such ease.

"I want to be in control this time." You pushed him against the wall, kissing down his neck. Jungkook's hands travelled down to grab your ass, firmly pulling you against himself. He moaned once you began kissing onto his earlobe. Jungkook's length was rapidly hardening, your firm grip making him live out all of his submissive fantasies usually girls weren't really effective at. Given Jungkook wasn't scared of you and devoured your pussy two hours prior, he felt the need to give into your games, wanting to provoke you in hopes you'd be even harsher with him. After seeing you become a moaning mess in that closet, Jungkook felt safe to let himself go too. You were arousing him quickly and effectively, which made all the blood rush to his crotch. He whined once you slapped his hand away from your breast, locking the door he was leaning against.

"Don't be impatient. It pisses me off." You slightly but down onto his ear, which only riled him up even more. You knelt down, keeping the eye contact with him. Jungkook thought you looked so hot when you were feeling confident, not looking away even as you were stroking him over his pants. You stuck your hand inside, causing him to gasp slightly. You felt his wet tip brush against your finger. You smeared the liquid over his tip, stroking him slowly.

"Are you going to be a good boy for me and listen to what I say?" You slid his pants and underwear down, his rock hard erection springing free.

"Y-yes." He nodded through a moan.

His big member made you drool as you slowly started to take him in your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his length, coating it with your saliva. You took him in deep inside of your mouth, causing him to shut his eyes and get killed off again. "F-fuck." Jungkook cursed, your mouth bringing the warm, sensitive and tight pleasure he needed to feel. His dick hit the back of your throat, making you slightly gag. He tried to move his hips, all desperate to fuck into your mouth. You gripped his thighs and moved your mouth away from him, making him groan out of frustration.

"Don't be such a brat." You slapped his cock, making him moan again. Soon after, you began kitten-licking his tip, making his dick slightly twitch from the sensitivity. "Please don't-tease me." He mumbled under his breath, biting his lip from the pleasure. His eyes glanced down at you for a brief second, loving the way you were so into sucking him off. The immersed look plastered onto your face made him only focus more on you, all pretty and needy for him. "Ahhh, Y/N." He let a moan escape his lips, one of his hands going down to stroke your hair. Once his other hand reached to hold you by your hair too, you slapped his hand away, knowing it was his final step before trying to fuck your mouth again. "I'll let you fuck my mouth soon, baby. Stay put for me a little longer." You whispered, quickly taking his whole length inside your mouth. "Fuck, why are you being like that?" He mumbled in a dirty voice, biting his lip as he was desperate to jerk his hips up. Jungkook never experienced such a dirty thing play out before him. He loved how you were making him feel, but the desperation to fuck your throat was growing stronger.

You started to move your head up and down him as your hands got involved too. One of your hands was stroking the base of his big member, and your other hand was cupping and massaging his balls.

Jungkook started to groan your name out, losing one of the last battles with himself to stay focused. He licked his lips and threw his head back, not able to handle it anymore. "Mmmm, Y/N." He spoke softly, making you start to bob on him. You continued your motions, quickening your pace as you sucked his tip harder. His hand guided your head faster, making you choke on him. Your mouth was full of his cock, causing you to grow wetter each second. You moaned once you have into him pushing himself further down your throat. He started to fuck into your mouth, feeling his climax approaching. Your hands sped up too, making him run his fingers through his hair. He threw his head back in pleasure. Your pussy was extremely wet by now, the liquid almost dripping through your panties. You stuck your hand in your panties, rubbing small circles around your sensitive nub. Jungkook moaned at sudden loss of contact.

"Don't stop, baby. I'm so close." He spoke in an accent, making the fire pit in your stomach even more needy.

"Beg me." You removed your head away, rubbing yourself faster. Jungkook swore he could come just by the sight alone.

"Please, please, kiss it, touch it, fuck it, whatever, just do something, please. I want to fuck your mouth so bad." Jungkook whined, stroking your soft cheeks.

"Good boy. I'm all yours-" As soon as you spoke, Jungkook sighed in relief, sliding his cock down your mouth. He was so frustrated it made him take control. And you loved it.

He went on a rampage, quickly jerking his hips up to hit the back of your throat, making you choke on him. "Ahhh." You moaned, furrowing your eyebrows at the sensation.

Jungkook's hips thrusted into your mouth, his groans filling up the bathroom.

"Who's my little slut after all?" Jungkook smirked down at you, still keeping eye contact. Your eyes were prickling up with tears, your mouth full of him.

You hummed, moaning under him as you rubbed yourself faster.

"Are you going to come for me?" Jungkook couldn't stop watching you touch yourself. You sped up the pace, finally reaching your orgasm. His words definitely tipped you over the edge. You began moaning onto his dick.

"Oh, fuck, yes." He continued groaning, seeing you come apart in front of him. Your orgasm washed over you, the strong sensation circulating through your entire body, your heat finally feeling some release. "Now I'm gonna come in your pretty little mouth-" Jungkook groaned, desperately chasing his orgasm. You felt his dick twitch in your mouth, knowing he was about to come. It was great, feeling so much control over him, enjoying how desperate he looked. You loved his need face as he was trying to come into your mouth, just to observe how pretty you looked with your mouth full of his load.His grip got tighter as he shut his eyes, letting out a few choked out moans as he came inside of your mouth. His cum slid down your throat, making you instantly gulp down. He threw his head back, staring at the ceiling as he tried to calm his quickened breaths. You licked off the remaining cum from his tip, wiping your mouth as he looked down on you from the above. "Come here." He softly spoke, pulling you up to him. He pulled his pants and underwear down, his breath still hot and breathing sounding heavy. He bit his lip once you got close to him, placing a kiss onto your lips.

"You're so hot." He giggled, continuing to kiss you. You both couldn't decide if the orgasm sobered you up or pushed you into another type of disorientation.

You found a few ways to giggle at the situation, not directly mentioning how dirty, impulsive and hot this evening has been between the two of you. But Jungkook definitely wanted to feel you or your mouth again. On him, by him, anywhere.

"Hope you're not disappointed that I don't want a relationship. I really find you attractive though." Jungkook spoke directly again, making you cut him off.

"Shh. Let's not ruin this." You winked at him and placed a kiss onto his lips. It was the last thing you said to him before you left the bathroom on your own, leaving him behind.

You felt power. Especially once leaving him like this. You set yourself out to have fun. Your decision, your dealing with the consequences. It was funny, because after this last séance with Jungkook, you didn't even check on your hair or dress. They looked perfectly fine, but you didn't care anymore, realizing people didn't give a damn anymore.

Debating whether to take a first step down. Why would you throw yourself into the wilderness like that? The mayhem that took place dowstairs was overwhelming once you got down, squeezing through the all the people who left the backyard to go dancing. Even the music you knew well and usually danced too was annoying you by this point.

It was true Sodom and Gomorrah you noticed but a modernized version.

People were making out heavily in the hallways and girls were sobbing in the kitchen. Probably because of the certain guys kissing other girls. The dining room looked like an aftermath of a wild party already, spilled beer all over the table from beer pong that took place. Some cups were on the floor, some people even, discussing existential life crisis you all knew well after attending college.

The music maybe didn't even change volume, but your ears were so irritated, the fading high pitched ringing noise in your ears driving you insane. You needed to sober up. And you needed it quick.

Finally, pure panic for Jimin managed to sober you up once seeing him stumble inside the bathroom.

"Jimin!" You yelled out for him. You started to breathe heavily, your gut telling you something bad was happening. Hell, you whole body felt it.

And there, shining in the most chaotic moments, you ran into Taehyung, who also looked visibly stressed. Not for the party, but because of Jimin.

He wasn't well.

"How is he?" You grabbed Taehyung by the shoulder. He flinched under your touch, his eyes dark heavy and red. So red.

"He's doing bad." Taehyung muttered out.

"Jimin!" You yelled out again, storming inside of the bathroom as you gently pushed Taehyung and a few other people out of the way.

The drama segment was settling in.

Jimin was kneeling in front of the toilet, throwing up whatever the liquor was that tipped him over the edge.

"Oh, baby." You sighed and kneeled down, next to him, stroking his back for comfort as he was regurgitating, his body really jolting him back into sobriety.

You hated to see him this way.

"What are you d-doing here?" He managed to stutter out, shaking from how cold he felt on the bathroom floor.

"I looked for you. Knew it was bad news."

"I'm fine, you can leave." He rushed his sentences out with a strong accent. He removed your hand from his back.

"I'm sorry I can't. Let me stay with you-" you were interrupted by him vomiting again, making you begin stroking his back again.

You looked to your right, watching Taehyung enter and close the door behind himself.

He gave you a smile with a worrying look on his face. You realized Taehyung had the ability to have a different smile for every situation or a setting. Only you had trouble figuring out which one was his real smile.

"Taehyung." Jimin called out for him.

"Yeah, bro?"

"Can you s-stay too?"

"Of course." Taehyung sighed.

Right in that moment Taehyung remembered the original reason of why he held back with you, if that could even be called "holding back".

He really felt bad for Jimin. Mainly because he followed the story of you being Jimin's crush since it began. It was impossible for him to just throw the bro code away that easily as Jungkook did, who knew the story but still felt the need to put his dick into you - which was at least what Taehyung guessed happened.

"You need anything?" Taehyung softly asked Jimin.

"No." Jimin sat down on the floor turning away from you. You decided to join Taehyung and sit on the floor, your back leaning against the cold bathtub.

And there you found it. At least some peace and quiet after such a wild night. Flashbacks of Jungkook, his hair, bare chest and wet lips kept haunting your mind. You sighed, disrupting the peace slightly.

Jimin started giggling out of nowhere, making you both confused.

"I can't take you seriously with this makeup." He continued laughing.

You smiled at Taehyung, nudging into his shoulder as he acted all proud of himself. He was always joking around.

You were scared he wasn't going to like you anymore, given the fact he always said that the girls who got with Jungkook were delusional-hopeless-romantic girls. And you knew well you couldn't explain to him the urge to be in control of him for just one night. Just to get it out of your system, fuck it over and out.

For some reason, Taehyung's presence has left you feeling nervous since the party began. Now it was for other reasons.

Even as he began talking to Jimin, you kept silent, still hating those bright bazhroom lights. Was he able to see your smudged makeup from teary eyes you got when Jungkook's cock was deep in your throat? Or did he notice a small bruised bite on your neck that was darkening every minute?

Could he smell Jungkook on you? Could he even sit next to you right now without feeling disgusted?

"-yeah, I remember that. But, I heard they're playing sometime next week. Want to go?" Jimin asked Taehyung about some band, making Taehyung agree, all smiles.

Your instinct was telling you he was putting on a fake smile again.

Listening to Taehyung's and Jimin's conversation, you felt at ease since it was so much more calmer than the muffled noise outside. You feared what was behind those doors. You feared yourself, because you didn't want to leave. Could some things still get back in control?

Taehyung noticed how worried you looked, so, mentally slapping himself, he brought you into the conversation and after a few minutes, he got Jimin to talk to you. You were paying attention on him to the best of your abilities, thanking the intoxication was fading away.

After some time of talking between each other, you decided it would still be best if you left Tae alone with Jimin. You didn't like yourself at all right now. It was funny that you felt easy so early into the night and had no idea that feeling would progressively get worse. Still, you exited the bathroom, catching a glimpse of Taehyung's worried look as you said your byes. To him, you were the personification of Sodom and Gomorrah because he was faced with having to decide between emotions and sex, forbidden but available, sin and respect.

"Why am I getting a feeling you like her?" Jimin's quiet question threw Taehyung off guard. He gulped hard, wishing you were here to avoid the mess. But this was mess he brought into himself so wanting you to be here was just selfish.

Taehyung didn't know what to say to Jimin. He didn't know how to start a conversation in which he has to explain to Jimin he still doesn't know will his attraction for you fade with the alcohol or get even stronger.

So, while Taehyung was trying to bury a hole he dug himself into with his clown makeup and desperate glances, you were already in the kitchen, the bright lights not making you look fresh in the slightest. Your inner self was matching the exterior well, since you really felt fucked out, tired and confused all at the same time. You could feel the stares from some people you hung out, especially since they all gossiped about you bringing back your notorious partying persona you wanted to dig down. Your reputation was not bothersome anymore, given the fact you stopped feeling everything. You could not hold one thought down, the music not letting you remember anything. Still, your brain was filled with Jungkook's moans, his hot palms and your admiration to take control. Even if it was just over him.

The party was in turmoil, some people vomiting outside by the street. You scoffed in annoyance, you just wanted to go home, but still felt attached to this place. You still chased peace.

You tried to get a piece of it, but squeezing through so much people just made your forehead sweat and brain feel dizzy due to lack of oxygen. You really felt lost by this point. A familiar guy approached you with an offer you could not refuse.

"Hoseok! Hey!" You were really happy to see him, suddenly finding consolation in all Jimin's friends.

"Hey, how are you doing? Have you seen Jungkook, I've been looking everywhere for him." Hoseok sighed.

"I saw him by the bathroom upstairs last time. But I think he had been actually looking for you." You tried to speak as if you couldn't still taste him in your mouth, but even Hoseok realized it was bullshit.

Your drunk mind sending you graphic flashbacks of his cock in your mouth was enough of a thought to distract you from paying attention.

"What about Taehyung? Seen him?"

"He's in the bathroom with Jimin. Jimin's not well."

"Oh, he told you?"

"Seriously, did everyone know besides me?" You sighed, following him towards the large window in the living room. Hoseok just gave a simple apologetic nod and continued speaking.

"-And as for Taehyung, he'll probably find you easier before I find him so I'll stick with you for a while. You don't mind, right?" Hoseok smiled, resting his elbow on the window stool. It was the only open window in the living room, both of you enjoying fresh air which was the cure for all of your breathing problems.

"What do you mean he's going to find me first?"

"Oh, you really are blind, aren't you, Y/N? First Jimin, now Taehyung..." Hoseok sighed, making you even more confused.

"Hoseok, what are you saying exactly?"

"Did anyone ever put makeup on to make you laugh?"

"No." You raised your eyebrow.

"Did anyone ever smile his way through the night for you when you were doing all kinds of stuff in the closet with his other friend?"

"No." You looked down in shame.

"So, it might just be this one night, but something happened to him."

Hoseok continued speaking about Taehyung's attraction towards you so easily that it reminded you of one of those movie cliches where you cannot observe any other noise other than complete focus on one man's words. Everything else was muffled up, and Hoseok might have spoke too much but you had no idea of how present he was the entire night, witnessing everything.

Every time you ran away away from Taehyung, Hoseok was there to stop Taehyung from chasing after you, sort of giving him advice to win you over slowly. Hell, Taehyung even asked Hoseok's date to borrow lipstick from her while he was right next to her. At first, Taehyung had no intention to listen, but throughout the night, his desperation grew and Hoseok was there to help out. The whole scheme was unfolding. Hoseok left you speechless, making you overthink the entire night almost instantly.

You found Taehyung's attempts cute and soon realized the only reason you were running away from him was because of your possible attraction towards him. So, his plan really worked. He made you feel safe around him because he really cared. Or at least that's what he thought during the intoxicated hours.

In that cold bathroom, sitting alongside his best friend, Taehyung stared into the bathroom tiles, slipping back into sobriety. Structuring his thoughts was rapidly becoming more successful and his brain was jolting itself awake, suddenly slipping into the state of realization of where he was, who he is really and what he's been doing here.

Taehyung had no idea what was waiting for him in his sobriety. Was his fascination for you about to fade away?

Was yours about to fully realize itself?

NEXT CHAPTER

taglist: @prettxyliies , @fairy-jaykay

133 notes · View notes