#They’re both too stupid to do anything more than kick the air | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

petrichorvidae · 9 months ago

Text

Mushy May Day 2: Late night snacks

Rating: Teen Word count: 3,560 Pairing(s): Swiss/Dewdrop + some Phantom/Rain heavily implied on the side, as a treat. Additional: Recreational drug use, minor blood and injury, references to sex, the ever-looming threat of an earth ghoul whose weed was stolen, and the existence of cheese singles. Summary: Dewdrop and Swiss raided Mountain's personal stash, and now they raid the kitchen too! Link to it on AO3 for those who prefer!

I had to take a day off for health reasons, and then I forgot to post this last night, but now I'm back with some swissdew shenanigans!

Once again, a huge thanks to @forlorn-crows for organizing Mushy May!

~~~~~~~~~~

Dew woke up with a start when something wet touched him, hissing out into the open air and looking around wildly trying to find whatever unknown had dared to disturb his sleep. His body was still adjusting to the suddenness of being awake, and that didn’t play favourites with his eyes, so he wasn’t able to do much more than squint and swish his tail back and forth in agitation.

“Whuh…!?” Seems his brain is still too mushy from sleep to even finish getting out a single coherent word.

He continued to swish his tail but his hiss faded away into a low growl, near-silent in volume as he was far too tired to do anything more. Dew kept blinking his eyes hoping to open them each time with a newly granted sense of sight, and if he had energy left in him he would have jumped for joy when he finally acclimated to the light. Wait, why would the light be on?

He feels stupid when he goes to pull his blanket off of him only to find that it’s not there, as a matter of fact, it’s nowhere to be found in the room, which only serves to add yet another layer to his confusion. He wouldn’t be caught dead without that thing, be it in his bunk in a tour bus, serving as a protective layer between him and whatever uncomfortable sheets the hotel they’re staying at has, or just as a source of comfort and warmth back here, home, in the abbey. Not that he needed the additional warmth though, definitely not with how things had been warming up recently combined with his Fire ghoul nature.

He looked to his side, hoping maybe he had kicked it away in his sleep after getting too hot or something, but instead, he was met with the glorious sight of none other than Swiss, sleeping like a rock, snoring louder than even Aether, and with a long and luxurious strand of drool trailing down the side of a pillow he was holding onto for dear life. And then everything clicked.

Memories flooded Dew’s head of how he and Swiss had broken into Mountain’s stash earlier that evening, getting their grubby mitts into the real good shit that he usually kept for himself, giant selfish bastard. He also remembered how they had then raided his entire Stash and left very few survivors in their wake, and how they then locked themselves in Swiss' room before participating in some stupid fucked up contest of seeing who could smoke through the most of it in a single day. Dew looked back to Swiss again, that puddle of drool had definitely grown by a few centimetres since he’d last looked. Judging by the state of him, and how Swiss was apparently dead to the world, they probably weren’t finding out who had won any time soon. Dewdrop groans and flops back down onto the bed. Of course, the one thing he couldn’t recall was both the reason for and the result of them getting into this mess.

What he hadn’t been anticipating was for his coordination to still be a little off after only being awake for a few short minutes, and thus he hadn’t been expecting his elbow to hit a sleeping Swiss right in the face. Swiss’ poor nose certainly hadn’t been expecting it, that’s for sure.

The most pathetic and hurt-sounding yelp he’s ever heard let Dew know that all those comments about his elbows being unusually bony may have some basis in truth after all. The ghoul that was dead asleep just a few seconds ago was now wide awake and hunched over himself while he clutches his nose. What Dew thinks is the slightest dribble of blood serves to sober him up a bit from his self-imposed high. He immediately starts looking around before finding what he’s looking for, locating the box of tissues on the nightstand next to Swiss’ bed and grabbing it before he can think too long about why it would be there in the first place.

“Ah shit! M’so sorry Swiss, didn’ mean to.” He blabbers out an attempt of an apology as he holds the tissues out to Swiss, who now has tears of pain threatening to spill at the corners of his eyes as he snatches the tissues from Dew, hissing at him all the while, and, yeah, he did kinda deserve that.

“Th’fuck s’wrong with you? F’ckin’ asshole.” Not even the shock of having his nose bashed by Dewdrop’s elbow could truly wake up Swiss, as it would seem. In true Swiss fashion, the larger ghoul continued to spit and hiss out more slurred insults at the smaller while he grabbed a bunch of the tissues and held them up to his bloody nose which would definitely have a pretty purple bruise on it later on that would lead to them being subjected to another of Aether’s interrogations while the Quintessence ghoul would try to figure out how two idiots like them survived for long enough in the pit to be summoned, just for them to be even bigger dumbasses.

Once Swiss had cleaned up his face and shook off his shame from being defeated by Dew’s bony as-shit elbow of all things, the Multi decided to dedicate the rest of his life to giving the Fire ghoul the dirtiest look he could muster. He wasn’t even giving him daggers now, he was giving him full-on swords. It was almost funny how mad he was trying to look, his nose all scrunched up with his ears down, fur puffed up to further set in how pissed he was with him at the moment. And yet, Dew wouldn’t forget this moment between them for Swiss' ire, which he had rightfully earned to be fair, but for how that heated silence was suddenly broken by one of the loudest growls he had ever heard come from Swiss' stomach.

They stared at each other, both looked down at Swiss' stomach, and immediately looked right back up to each other again, before simultaneously bursting out into a fit of giggles. All of Dew’s elbow’s transgressions are forgotten as they roll around on top of Swiss' bed.

After a few minutes of giggling and another interruption, this time from Dew’s stomach, Swiss finally let out his first fully formed words since he’d been so rudely woken up. “Woah, easy there tiger, don’t gotta go roaring at me.” He put his hands up in a mock surrender “How ‘bout we go and raid the kitchen for whatever good stuff we can find? We can bring it back here and have ourselves a feast.”

Dewdrop thought about it, and he was really hungry now that they’d both been made aware by their bodies, and rather loudly at that. But, and there was always a but, Dewdrop looked over to the locked door leading out into the hallway and his thoughts stilled for a moment. The whole reason it had been locked in the first place was because they both Mountain would be out for blood once he found his stash desecrated and gone, and another memory from the evening was returned to him, this one of Mountain pounding on the door when he had finally found out what they’d done, and how the only thing stopping him from going through with his threat to kick down the door and collect retribution for his precious weed was Aether quite literally dragging him away to cool down a bit if the scuffle they had heard was anything of substance. One thing was gnawing away at his mind right now, and he made sure to voice it; “What if he’s still out there.”

Swiss understood what he meant, and looked like he was speedrunning through the exact thought process Dew had just gone through judging by the slight panic in his eyes, but apparently, he wasn’t anywhere as worried as Dew was, because he just shrugged.

“You got any idea what time it is?”

Dewdrop chews at his lip before digging around for his phone. He manages to find it under a pillow, the very same one that now had a damp spot from Swiss drooling on it, gross. After a more than slightly judgemental look sent the taller ghoul’s way, Dewdrop turns the screen on and goes to look at the time. Swiss leans over his shoulder to take a peek for himself.

Both of them are left in silent shock at the time.

“Shit…”

“Did we really sleep for that long?”

“Must have, the phone doesn’t lie Dewbug.”

“Thought I told you to stop calling me that.” The Fire ghoul hissed, though they both knew it didn’t have any real bite to it.

“But it’s just so fun getting to see your cheeks go red like that, Dewbug.” There it was again, that toothy grin that would make a baby cry. And speaking of the devil, the Multi’s teasing paid off when he got to watch as his partner tried to hide himself amongst the pillows. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that the very blush he was referring to would be found spreading its way across Dew’s cheeks at that very moment if anyone were to get a good look.

With perfect timing as always, Swiss' stomach chooses that moment to remind the two of their shared hunger, possibly saving Dewdrop from any further torment and teasing.

Getting back on track, Swiss pads his way over to the door and opens the bolt lock, but before he can even get his hand on the handle Dew is diving across the bed and towards him. “Wait!”

Swiss gives him a look that hopefully reads as ‘You really wanna starve in here?’, but goes out of his way to voice the rhetorical question anyway.

“I mean, no, but-”

“Excellent! Then let’s get-a-going and get some grub.” And with that, Swiss swings the door open, but is careful to make sure it doesn’t bang against the wall and make a noise. He may be crazy, but he doesn’t want to risk being the one to disturb anyone’s sleep. Then they’ll really be helpless when Mountain inevitably gets his claws on them. “Just, y’know, be quiet. Sneaky.” He adds in a hushed tone with a wink at the end for emphasis. And with that, the two ghouls are slowly and stealthy tiptoeing their way down the hallway, making their way to the den and by extension the kitchenette as they pass by the doors to all the rooms that the band ghouls call home. They can hope each and every one of them is occupied by sleeping ghouls, especially as they pass by the room of a certain abnormally tall Earth ghoul. Step after step, they slowly inched their way down the hall, getting closer and closer to their goal.

Finally, the narrow length of the hallway spreads out into a much wider and vastly more spacious common room, or the den as it’s come to be known. The room is near pitch black in the dark of the night, and with their minds still a little hazy from all the weed they had indulged themselves with smoking several hours ago, even with their more advanced ghoulish eyesight, they can't really make much of anything out. Swiss, showing a brief moment of rationality and even using a little logic to boot, reaches out to his side where he knew the lightswitch to be and suddenly the large space is flooded with light, though thankfully on a dimmer setting so it isn’t too much of a shock to their eyes.

What does come as a shock, is the ghoul staring at the pair from where they stand by the kitchenette, looking like a deer caught in headlights, a freshly opened pack of crackers in one hand and an entire brand new tube of Primula cheese in the other.

The atmosphere is palpable, the tension in the room so thick you could cut it, right up until a cracker falls out from the packaging and clatters when it hits the floor, that is.

“Phantom? Why the hell are you up at this time?”

That seems to make the Quintessence bristle up a did. His ears pull back when he whisper-shouts a defensive and very creative “Why are you!?”

Swiss and Dew look at each other at the exact same time, both thinking about whether they should tell him about their escapades and Mountain.

“Uhm… stuff…” Dew blurts out. Very articulated. Swiss gives him a look but he just shrugs. Well, what did the Multi want him to say?

“Hey, are those Cirrus’ crackers?” Swiss tries to deflect Phantom’s deflection, and it seems to work as Phantom is immediately right back to looking like he’d just been caught with his pants down.

Looking around and finding no way to escape from the situation, Phantom resigns and answers the question. “Yes…”

Oh, this was gonna be good. It’s nice to know they weren’t the only ones dumb enough to steal from their packmates tonight. Everyone knows how defensive Cirrus can get over her snacks, and those crackers were her favourite. The fact that they’d only just been bought and she hasn’t even gotten a chance to try them yet will just add to the drama of all this.

“Oooh~ Somebody’s gonna be in trouble~”

Phantom snaps his gaze right over to Dew, glaring at him while he utters his next words. “You don’t tell Cirrus it was me, and I don’t tell Mountain.”

Dewdrop just had to go and tease him.

“Ha, nice try kid, but the big guy already knows all about what we did.”

“Trust me, we all know.” Phantom puts it bluntly, and it doesn’t come as a surprise at all considering how loud Mountain had been earlier, and that was just what they heard through the door. “I meant I won’t tell him exactly where you guys will be tomorrow.” When raises an eyebrow at him. “I’ve been speaking to Sunny, and I’ve seen your guys’ schedules for your chores tomorrow. I’ll do it.” Oh, okay, so the new kid had finally grown some fangs it would seem. Swiss almost barks out a laugh from the shock of it all, who knew Phantom of all ghouls would be the one threatening to sic a pissed-off Mountain on them?

“Okay, okay, you win kid. Sheesh.”

And with that, they seem to slip into a truce of sorts. Phantom sets his pilfered crackers and squeezy cheese off to the side so he can find a plate, and Swiss and Dew walk past him to start rummaging through the cupboards and fridge for anything that speaks to their hunger at the moment. Swiss flipped through the cupboards whilst Dew searched through the fridge.

“All I’ve got here is a bag of chips and a half-empty box of breadsticks that may or may not be on their way to going stale already, any luck over there?” When Swiss receives no reply he looks to check on Dew, and finds his companion doing a silly victory dance as he holds up a pack of some deli meat like it’s the cub in that one lion film they’d watched a couple months back. Swiss had to bite his tongue and hold back whatever laugh or teasing comment he would have let out. It was just so pure. They were both still decently high from Mountain’s weed, raiding the kitchen in the midst of the night as quickly as possible so they could return to Swiss’ room to continue hiding from Mountain’s wrath, and Swiss couldn’t bring himself to look away from Dew. He wondered if this was what people mean when they say that it sometimes feels as if time has frozen when they look at their partners.

“Dew, you look ridiculous.” And the moment is ruined. Swiss turns to bare his fangs slightly at the younger ghoul but Phantom is unphased and just sticks his tongue out in return, the cheeky fucker. By the time Swiss turns back to Dew, he’s finished his celebration and has placed the pack of sliced meat on the nearby side, right next to where Swiss has placed his findings, before diving back on in to grab the final piece to make this meal truly perfect.

“Boom! Cheese singles.” He smirks up at Swiss while she waves the individually packaged slices of processed cheese in his face, positively pleased at himself with his findings.

Phantom decides to pipe in again from over by where he’s now got everything he needs, the entire tube of Primula now squeezed out onto the plate with a knife carefully placed beside it, his crackers still in their pack off to the side where he’d been snacking on a few when trying to find the knife and plate. Truly a charcuterie board for kings. “You’re seriously gonna eat those? Are they even real cheese?”

Dewdrop is quick to defend himself. “First of all, yes, I am seriously gonna eat these cheese singles, and I’m gonna love every second of it. And second, I’m not gonna be judged by the ghoul who is about to eat a fuckton of crackers with squeezy cheese!” He presses an accusatory finger into Phantom’s chest. Now with being so close to him, Dewdrop takes in how the ghoul is blatantly wearing clothes that aren’t his. The shirt is obviously one of Dew’s, while not tight it was definitely on the shorter side and left a bit of Phantom’s tummy out for all to see, and if he had to take a guess on the owner of the slightly too-big boxers he had on Swiss was probably the safest bet. He didn’t miss the messy hair or how a certain bassist’s scent was clinging to him like moss to a rock right now either, and gave the ghoul a small grin and a nod of acknowledgment before deciding to tease him some more.

“I’m gonna want to wash that in the morning, aren’t I?” He refers to the shirt.

“Someone’s going to be losing their weed privileges, aren’t they?” Phantom shoots right back.

“Touché.”

“Too soon, man, too soon.” Swiss can be heard whining from off to the side of their little standoff.

“Alright, I’m heading off now. Good luck I guess, you’ll need it.” Phantom stretched for a second before grabbing his plate and crackers and heading back towards his room, where there was no doubt a Water ghoul would be awaiting his return.

“We know.” They reply in unison and wave him off before they go grab their harvest and do the same.

Swiss is emptying all of the chips and breadsticks out into two separate bowls when they’re alerted by another door down in the hallway opening, that eerie creak causing their hackles to become raised and their ears to pull back. Dewdrop instinctively put himself between the hallway and his precious cheese singles and meat slices, ready to defend this meal with his life. “Who’s there?” Swiss calls out into the dark hallway.

Their blood runs cold when it’s none other than Mountain who emerges from the dark hallway into the dim, though still much brighter, light of the den, his imposing figure slowly approaching them with heavy steps. Swiss sidesteps over to Dew and holds the Fire ghoul’s hand in his, it was his idea to raid Mountain’s stash and if anyone’s getting their tail ripped off here, it’s going to be him. Before they know it, Mountain is stood right in front of the pair, practically snarling at them as a low rumbling growl permeates throughout the kitchenette. In what is possibly up there amongst the dumbest things he’s ever done when being growled at by a much larger ghoul he’s crossed, Dew reaches behind him blindly, grabbing around until he finds what he hopes will be their saving grace. He picks it up and, wincing as he hopes the Earth ghoul doesn’t just bite his fingers off, presents his peace offering.

“Deli meat?”

Mountain stares at the presented cuts of ham for a good long while, but his decision is finally made when his face softens, rumble dissipating as he lets out a heavy sigh. He wordlessly takes the offering and opens it up, taking a handful of sliced meat for himself before passing it over to Swiss, who only just about manages to hold onto it as he’s still stood there in shock and awe, amazed that Dew’s offering had actually worked as the Earth ghoul scarfed down the ham in record time. It does wonders to show just how hungry a ghoul can get after being mad for hours on end.

Dewdrop feels bold and a little stupid, so he decides to crack out the cheese singles too, and sidles up to Mountain before holding one out to him.

Swiss questions all of his life choices as he stands there in silence while they both watch Mountain eat the entire cheese single within seconds. He hadn’t even removed its plastic covering. Dewdrop was near tears at the horror he was witnessing. This must be their punishment for what they had done, surely.

“You two are just lucky that it wasn’t my main stash.”

45 notes · View notes

flowercrowngods · 1 year ago

Note

Saw the overwhelming majority voting for “who did this to you part 4”, so how about a snippet from the high yearning fic? ☺️

thank you my love 🥰🤍 i’m holding you endlessly 🫶

Turns out, ignoring Steve is both easier and harder than Eddie expected. The thing is, he’s good at diving into any conversation with just about anyone, making it larger than it needs to be until everyone in the room will give him funny looks but still roll with it, because Eddie Munson is just Like That, right?

But Steve doesn’t give him funny looks. Oh, they’re far from fun. There’s something in there that reminds Eddie of a kicked puppy in those fleeting moments that he lets his eyes meet Steve’s, never letting them linger, never letting them take him in and hold him and bask in the sunlight that is stored in those… Those beautiful, beautiful eyes. And that pretty, pretty face.

A face that shouldn’t look so sad.

He wants to ask what’s wrong, ask him if it’s a bad pain day, ask him if he didn’t sleep last night either, or if something happened. But how is he supposed to ask, to let any words come out of his mouth, when Steve just won’t look away. When he’s looking at Eddie like that again, when the little something that has shifted between them suddenly becomes massive enough to steal all the air away from his lungs and make his arms tingle in a way that he knows will only get better if he gets to wrap them around Steve.

He can’t. So he doesn’t. He doesn’t ask. But he doesn’t look away either, and he knows he’s already lost. He knows he broke this promise he made to himself.

But it’s fine, maybe, if the slight twitch in the corners of Steve’s lips is anything to go by. Like he, too, wants to say something but can’t. Like he knows Eddie is the same. Like his heart is racing, too, and he tried not to look but they’re so stupid and looked anyway and now they can’t—

“Guys?” Robin interrupts their little moment, the bubble bursting with a loud snap of her fingers that makes Eddie physically flinch.

He looks at her, spooked to shit and gasping because he does not do well with sudden loud noises or the impromptu bursting of bubbles — not after everything that happened.

“Shit, sorry, oh my God!” Robin’s there immediately, reaching for his hand, Nancy laying hers on his shoulder, Jonathan making himself known with a gentle little, “You’re fine, man.”

Eddie catches his breath and breathes away the panic, thinking that maybe getting high today wasn’t such a bad idea after all. He hands Robin the baggie and stuffs his hands into his pockets, making himself a little smaller by muscle memory alone.

Steve’s hand comes to rest between his shoulder blades — reassuring and warm. Like a flower, Eddie rises to follow it. He catches Steve’s smile out of the corner of his eyes and wants to rest his face against it. Wants to feel it against his skin.

God, he’s so hopeless.

Good thing that Robin’s got the blunt under control, because Eddie does not trust his hands right now.

want me to write more? make me 😌

#high yearning makeout fic #titling this thing will be so fun lmao anyway eddie is down bad and they’re both yearning and traumatised #make me write ask game #steddie #steddie fic #this has too much buildup again but i need yall to know how gone they are for each other

43 notes · View notes

winderlylandchime · 1 year ago

Note

1/2We are officially on 3x13! He legit ran into the house, sat on the couch and like tapped it and didnt let me do anything else before.

‘Look at Brian all dramatic and sexy. OH LOOK AT BOTH OF THEM ALL DRAMATIC AND SEXY. Oh shit the cop didnt show? I forgot about that. Of course he looked hot Brian. It’s Justin’ ‘WHO THE FUCK IS KNOCKING ALL THE DAMN TIME AT HIS PLACE? (hunter shows up) ITS MY BOY HUNTER! HES ALIV- A CONDOM?! Hunter…i am both impressed and traumatized. (And justin showed up) aw they canceled gay as blaz- thats brians shirt! OH WAIT TILL HUNTER FINDS OUT THEY ARE MARRIED IN MY HEART’ the best scene of the episode is now up *starts hysterically laughing and rewinds it 2 times* ‘HE FUCKED A MURDERED!! MHM HE HAS A BOYFRIEND! OH HE SAID YEAH! *pauses tv* HE SAID YEAH! HE FUCKING SAID YEAH! I know season 1 Brian is sick to his stomach somewhere out there. BUT ME? I AM HAPPY AS EVER! HE HAS A BOYFRIEND! (brian kinda defends hunter or whatever) i fuck with this duo! They could have weird uncle/nephew potential…..if hunter just stops trying to fuck Brian.’ That scene between Em/Ted is up where they’re having sex ‘oh no. Ted no. Stop. TED, Emmett baby, YOU NEED TO RUN! I feel bad cause i like Ted but damn it Em RUN, i think there’s no saving him. TED STOP! Oh Emmett is breaking my heart, i cant watch this. ted is killing me.’ ‘HI BRIAN! GIVING A USED CONDOM TO A COP IS A DIFFERENT LEVEL OF ICONIC. I love this guy *points to the screen* i love you. *randomly stops ep on Brian and just stares at him for a minute* yeah’ *continues the ep* ‘THEY WERE PARTNERS? Of course they were. I fucking hate cops. Can we get rid of them in this show? Isnt it enough theyre already out there *points to window* ‘fuck, justin is in trouble..THATS RIGHT HIM AND BRI BRI WERE BOYFRIENDS BEFORE! he kinda did fuck the boss, didnt he? Good for you, Blondie! (Justin says that if its any consolation he was doing a kick ass job) *stops tv and starts laughing and literally falls back in the couch with his feet up in the air and kicks them* yes, you were doing a kick ass job! APOLOGIZE? Bitch, fuck you and your apology.’ Scene with Mel/Linds/Mikey comes on and all he says is ‘this is so fucking weird…and dumb’ Mikey asks Em when hes gonna apologize to Mel: ‘this is a little fucked up. I mean yeah, it was rude but she also should apologize to him because she has no fucking right to say that to him…*he then goes silent for a really long time*…you know who would’ve appreciated Em calling her a cunt? Brian. He’d laugh.’ ‘Oh Emy. No don’t defend Ted! No no no, you need to save yourself please baby boy! I love you too much to let you go like this!’ ‘BRIAN AND JUSTIN! THEYRE WALKING! Why arent they holding hands? Rude. Exactly Blondie, Bri Bri is right! Your education is important and it’s your ticket out of here! Okay, so you dont care about money but do you care about a house? Food? Health insurance? Exactly, so listen to my boy Bri Bri, and go there and apologize cause sometimes you gotta convince stupid people that they won. And finish your school cause that’s how you go places in lif- *looks at me in absolute horror* oh my god, i sound like dad. I sound like mom AND dad. OH FUCKING SHIT ON A STICK WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED? I mean brian is absolutely right but i dont wanna sound old like that so *whispers softly* fuck school’ ‘THE COP DID IT! Carl stop disappointing me! I kinda had some faith in you and then you ruined it!’ ‘BRIAN WHY ARE YOU BACK AT THE BAR? YOURE GONNA GET YOURSELF KILLED! HEY! BRIAN IS MORE THAN AN ASSHOLE. He is also pretty! shit he is not holding back, going for the kill with the photo. He actually cares a lot about this. BRIAN DO NOT GIVE HIM YOUR NAME. HAVE YOU NEVER SEEN AN EPISODE OF LITERALLY ANY CRIME SHOW?! *looks at me worried* if he gets hurt…no wait, if ANYTHING happens to Brian, i will burn everything to the ground! He has been through enough! *head in his hands at this point* Bri..Baby..Brian… why are you telling him all this..damn, i forgot about the Trump wannabe. *points to tv angrily* HEY! What did i just say? Get your hands off my Bri Bri! *looks at me angrily* NOTHING better happen to him. Not now. Not later. Got it?’

OH MY GOODNESS DEAR SWEET ANON!

They could have weird uncle/nephew potential…..if hunter just stops trying to fuck Brian <- wait until brother (and Hunter) finds out Hunter is straight! I do love the Brian / Hunter dynamic so much. So many iconic lines come out from it. Including THEE SCENE with “you fucked a murderer.”

Brian would appreciate Em calling Mel a cunt. He really would.

Dyingggg over your brother turning into your parents. It comes for us all at some point. I open my mouth and my mother comes out. It’s frightening.

How sweet that your brother is so worried for Brian… but he’s the main character, nothing bad happens to him beyond cancer (with a 99% survival rate) and a broken bone and s5.

#ask winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

2 notes · View notes

anx1oustig3r · 2 years ago

Text

since i rewrote the prologue for sunbreeze, i thought i’d post it here as a little, sneaky peaky for anyone else who might wanna read

you can read the full story here

Children love to tell stories about the whimsical adventures of the Fae, but what they don’t know is that most Fae are spiteful jerks. In the world of spiteful creatures there’s no name spoken with more contempt than mine.

The air is burning. I can’t move. Every involuntary twitch has my muscles screaming bloody murder. That’s what happens when you land hard on your spine as my Mam had told me. Knowing my luck my wings are crushed and broken like hers are too. After all: history loves finding ways to repeat itself.

With a groan I roll myself onto my stomach, almost driving my face into the millions of glass shards that speckle the ground like stars and reflect the intense yellow light from the house. Had the circumstances been different, I would say it was a morbidly beautiful sight, but the circumstances aren’t different and I only feel sick when I see the light in the glass flickering.

Smoke is covering the night sky. Normally it would be a beautiful deep indigo, but now it’s a horrible, choking, murky black colour that closes in and crushes me. I try to take a gulp of air but it rushes down my gashed throat and into my lungs where it sits and sears them until I start to cough and wheeze and wretch up great big globs of soot, bile and blood.

My Father would have clouted me around the back of the head for being so disgusting, but I imagine that’s probably the last thing on his mind right now.

I push myself until I’m sitting up and bring a hand to my neck. It’s bleeding pretty bad. Mam had that bramble wire wrapped tight around it … after everything we’d been through as well.

The fire has engulfed the entire estate now. The flames flicker and dance all the way up to where they tower over the trees and almost break through the suffocating cloud into the night sky. The entry ways of the house are all blocked off. They’re blocked off and there’s no sign of my parents.

I watch them. I watch the embers float peacefully through the air. I watch the flames tearing all wood and stone to pieces. I listen to the creaking and crashing mixed with high pitched wailing. Have I just ended the world? No … of course not, but then why do I have this feeling of doom in my chest? Maybe it’s the soot, or I’d gotten so used to choking to death that now breathing feels foreign to me.

I wonder if my Father could see what lay ahead, would he have still looked at me like I was his most precious treasure? Maybe he would have thrown me to the streets earlier or had me swapped for a well mannered, compliant child. Or perhaps … perhaps he would have helped me.

But it’s been a long time since I found any comfort in hopeless fantasies. That’s not the reality. The only caring figure I had in my life was ripped away from me when I was too stupid to know why. And my Father never cared. I heave myself to my feet, wincing with the agony. My body screams and I beg myself to just collapse again, but I can’t. I have no choice.

I try to flap my wings. They’re moving! A little bit stiff … but they’re moving. That’s good enough. I can see the flames growing wilder, but I don’t hear them anymore. All I hear is a buzzing noise like someone surrounded me with beehives. My teeth grit tight and my lip pulls and my throat is tight not just from the wire, but it’s like I want to cry. I want to cry but I also want to laugh and I want to kick something, but I just don’t feel anything at all.

A shrill voice cuts through the buzzing. I recognise it, but I can’t tell if the shrieking is laced with terror, or rage, or both and that scares me.

“Mireska!”

Mireska. Mireska Sunbreeze. Daughter of one of the Merchant Kings of Revtel: Lord Sunbreeze. It’s only now that reality finally begins to sink in. What I’ve done. He’s in there. Mam is in there too. They haven’t left. I don’t have a choice. I turn on my heels and half run, half fly into the dense woodland surrounding the burning estate.

#okay i know this is a fanfiction but my intention is like #you can read and understand it without ever having played dota or anything #dota 2 #dark willow #mireska sunbreeze #dota2 #fanfic #dota 2 fanfic #queer fantasy #dark fantasy

3 notes · View notes

urdadsnewgiirlfriend · 1 year ago

Text

I knew this would be good, but not THAT damn good! 😭😭😭

You recognize the messy mane of hair that could only belong to Eddie Munson in the driver seat almost instantly and his dimple filled smile brings you back to memories you thought you’d long forgotten.

can I have them both please? 🥺👉👈

Black ink you’ve never seen before looks bold on his tanned skin that glows like it’s been freshly kissed by the sun.

The jawline that always drove you mad is sharper, peppered with the kind of hardly there stubble that tells you he’s only missed one shaving day. A problem he never used to have, and somehow, it makes him all that much more attractive.

His shoulders are broader, stretching the white cotton of his shirt tight enough across his chest that you can see the outline of a thick patch of hair that had only just started growing when you knew him last. The dark wash of his jeans makes them look almost black, fitting snug over his thighs, cuffed at the bottoms framing the tops of his boots.

You try not to focus on how much larger his already big hands are now, or how small the bottle looks wrapped up in his palm compared to your best friends.

Leaning against the counter, you cross your arms, watching the two of them bicker, catching Steve’s wandering gaze on your exposed legs while he tries his best to keep his focus on Robin. It boosts your ego in a way that has the anger hiding just under the surface go from a boil to a slow simmer.

uh-huh you can look but don't touch 😌😌😌

Your brain wanders to places that you thought you’d banished from the corners of your mind for years. It takes you to the pink fullness of his lips, and has you biting the bottom of yours. Then it’s the freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and explode across his cheeks, even leaving their mark on the bottom of his earlobe. You’d found that one the night you’d tried to count them all. You never finished.

WHAT THE FUCKKK 😩😭

You manage to pull yourself together enough to help Steve get Robin in his car, heart almost stopping when you walk up to the same Maroon BMW he took your virginity in.

“Good to know you still think I’m hot.”

god i hate him… him and… his stupid handsome face 🙄🙄🙄

“Steve,” his name comes out clear as day, kicking up his heart rate. “Yeah?” He squats down next to your face, the warmth of your breath hitting his face while your eyebrows furrow in your sleepy state trying to get whatever you want to say out. “You really broke my heart, you know that?” Your words punch the air out of his lungs, just like your unexpected arrival. Something he’s fantasized about happening more times than he’d like to admit. “Yeah, I know.” He sighs defeated, giving into his urges for comfort with knuckles that brush against the warmth of your skin, a familiar burn stings his eyes when you subconsciously lean into it.

WHATS WRONG WITH YOU STEVE 😭😭😭 WHAT IF I CRY 😭

I’m done…

“I work here,” Steve snorts like it’s the most obvious conclusion, because, well, it is, “and I volunteered to look at it, Eddie’s got his hands full.” That was a lie, he begged him.

Interesting 🤭

“So what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to get around?” You know that part isn’t his problem, this entire mess is your own doing but it doesn’t stop it coming out in a whine. You blame your hangover. “You’re gonna be just fine, city girl,” Steve grins up at you before reaching even further under the hood, muscles flexing with him, “besides we both know I can’t say no to Robin.” He pulls at a small tube that’s purpose is unknown to you but you keep eyes trained on his movements like you have an idea, anything to keep the focus off the gold chain that dangles from his neck. “Or you.” The last part comes out so quiet, a focused look pinching his brows together as he continues his investigation.

very interesting 🤭🤭🤭

It’s a losing battle not to look at his chest when every motion reveals more of the thick curls underneath.

showing off his chest again 🙄🙄🙄 SLUT!!!

🧎‍♀️now i’m counting the days until next Wednesday.

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter one -

Late arrivals and big asks

A broken down car, a party at Reefer Rick’s, and a bandaid that needs to be ripped off.

warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking, lots of tension, some king!steve angst in the form of a flashback.

wc: 10.1k

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

The air is sticky, thick with the kind of humidity only Indiana could have at 9:30 pm. An annoyed breath expands into your lungs as you lean against your car that refuses to do anything but sputter. Despite your irritation, your glossed lips twitch with the nostalgia that creeps into your heart because after all these years it still smells the same.

Crossing your arms, your eyes trail over the clear night sky not polluted with the kind of man-made smog that blankets the city and the stars shimmer like diamonds in its absence. The warmth of the overrun engine is still hot on your exposed calves, the light breeze making the bottom of your sundress dance across the tops of your thighs. White beams emerge, cutting through the dark at the top of the hill, followed by the roar only a tow truck can make, and this time, the smile you fought off before spreads wide across your face.

Robin.

Butterflies wake up in a frenzy deep in your gut, with nerves that twitch from your fingertips at the thought of finally getting to hug your best friend after months apart. You push off the side of your car as the truck approaches, eyes squinting to make out the second outline in the front cabin as it pulls over. You recognize the messy mane of hair that could only belong to Eddie Munson in the driver seat almost instantly and his dimple filled smile brings you back to memories you thought you’d long forgotten.

“Well, well, well, would you look at what the cat dragged in!” Robin sticks her head out of the window with a wide grin as the big tires slow to a stop in front of your car, “are my eyes deceiving me or is my best friend in the entire world actually in Hawkins, Indiana right now?”

The rasp in her voice sounds just like it does over the phone and despite the roll of your eyes, your cheeks hurt from how happy you are.

“Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t guilt me out here by saying the fate of your future depends on it.” Uncrossing your arms, you open them wide, “I made the ultimate sacrifice for you, so are you gonna hug me or not?”

Dramatic? Yes. But it works like a charm when she flings open the passenger door and charges at you in a mess of honey blond waves and freckles, almost tackling you with the force of her impact wrapping her arms around you.

Too distracted by Robin, you almost don’t notice the creak of the driver's side door or the filled out frame of the man that used to be a lanky teenage boy walking past as Eddie starts to attach your car to his truck. He’s taller than you remembered even bending down, and despite the navy blue coveralls, you can still see that his pale skin is littered with even more tattoos.

“I can’t believe my guilt trip worked!” Robin beams, finally letting you go, her whole body practically vibrating with excitement as she claps her ring clad hands together.

“I really can’t believe it either,” you laugh nervously, the reality of what it means to come back starting to set in after seeing just one familiar face, but this isn’t high school anymore and you’re definitely not the same person you were five years ago either.

“Thanks so much, Eddie,” you break the ice when he stands back up, and the sound of your voice has his big brown eyes warmed with gold light up just like his face when he turns his full attention onto you. Scruff filled dimples poking even bigger holes in his cheeks.

“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart, I almost didn’t believe Robin when she called me. I thought it was a prank.” He beckons you over with open arms, “now that I know it’s not, you have exactly 10 seconds to get over here and hug me before I change my mind.”

There’s zero hesitation about giving into his ‘demand’ and when your arms wrap around his waist, you’re brought back to afternoons in the woods behind the school with heavy lidded eyes and lopsided grins.

“Your own auto shop, huh?” You smile up at him, pulling away, “Eddie Munson, the business owner.”

He rolls his eyes but the pink tint that colors in his cheeks tells you he appreciates the praise.

“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckles, “Got a soft spot for that old man in the trailer park, couldn’t bring myself to leave.”

Your heart warms at the fondness that drips from his ton.

“Okay, as sweet as this little reunion is. You’re late, and we have a party to get to.” Robin interrupts snatching your keys out of your hand, dropping them in Eddie’s.

“A party?” You snap confused, and Eddie takes that as his queue to walk away with a knowing smirk.

“Yes, this is the summer of fun and reckless abandon, this is the last summer of our youth before we have to be adults. Do you understand me?” Her fingers are digging into your shoulders by the end of her rant, with the kind of look in her eyes that you’re absolutely going to have to revisit after a few weeks.

“This is the part where I remind you that I graduated college last year.”

Your best friend scoffs at you.

“Just humor me, okay? It’s your grand homecoming.” She pushes out her bottom lip, and makes her eyes big in a way she knows you can’t say no to.

“Fine.” You huff, making her finally let you go with the kind of pleased smirk that tells you she never thought she was going to lose to begin with.

“Great, it’s time to rip the bandaid off anyway.” Robin practically mumbles the last part turning on her heel to head back to the truck.

It takes a minute for her words to stick to your ears and their meaning to ring loud through your head, but when they do it feels like the air is stolen from your lungs.

“Rip what bandaid off, Robin?!”

It’s his name tightens in your chest but you refuse to say it, even after all this time it burns coming back up.

“Since you had to drive for so long, I’ll sit in the middle because I’m just that good of a friend, you know?” She winks with a shit eating grin before pulling herself up and disappearing inside the cab of the truck, ignoring your question, like she’s not asking you to do the one thing you said you’d never do.

See Steve Harrington again.

I tell myself, ‘draw the line.’

You wonder if Robin can feel the daggers you’re glaring into the back of her head as the two of you walk up the driveway to Rick’s house. Gravel crunching hard under your converse as you keep up with her black combat boots. She looks effortlessly cool in her high waisted jean shorts, and her oversized army green jacket covered in patches. You’d compliment her if you weren’t so mad.

“I can’t believe you guys still have parties here.” You scoff, making your sour attitude known, but your best friend ignores it with ease.

“I can’t believe you forgot to have fun. Don’t you live in the city?” Turning around with a smirk, she can’t help but laugh at the look on your face.

She stops abruptly, almost making you run into her leaving you both just close enough to the party to hear the bass of the music spilling through the cracks in the windows. The low chatter of people echoes through the trees that surround you and bounce off the lake not that far away. The thought of hearing the calm baritone of his voice mixed in makes your chest tight with the kind of nerves that dare you to high tail it and run.

“It’s been five years.” Robin’s playful demeanor breaks and becomes pleading with a kind of desperation you’ve never seen from her before. “He’s not the person you knew in high school, I need you to understand that. You think I’d call someone like that my best friend?”

“Hey!-“ You object at the title, and it makes her lips twitch despite serious lines that crease her face.

“Stop, you know what I mean,” her painted fingers grab onto yours, squeezing them lightly, “please, just give him a chance. I’m not asking you to get back together or even be friends, just get along enough not to kill each other this summer. I can’t choose between you. I won’t.”

The genuine love she has for Steve is apparent in the way her ocean blue eyes threaten to drown you in their sincerity, and you can’t find it in yourself to say no to her.

“Fine.” You accept your defeat in practically a whisper, but it makes your best friend squeal nonetheless. The giddiness from before coming back tenfold as she links arms with you, continuing your way up to the house.

It’s just a summer, right?

The crowd gets bigger as more people start to come into view, between groups smoking cigarettes outside, couples arguing by cars, others making out against them. The smell of beer gets more pungent with each step, the atmosphere a stark contrast to the way the moon glows against the peaceful waters behind the madness of the house.

Salt N Pepa’s ‘Push It’ plays loud enough for you to make out the words when you reach the front steps, walking through clouds of tobacco smoke to get to the unlocked door. The interior hasn’t changed at all since high school, the smell of stale lime and tequila stinging your nose. The bass of the music vibrates under your shoes as Robin unlinks her arms and you have to fight the urge to yank her back.

“Drinks or …Steve first?” She asks, her nerves about the situation finally showing themselves as she bites at her thumbnail.

“Absolutely drinks! Is that a trick question?” You half whisper, half yell, looking around as if saying his name out loud might summon him.

“Okay! Okay!” Robin hisses, grabbing your wrist, leading you towards the familiar path to Rick’s kitchen.

Suddenly you wonder what your makeup looks like after a long day of traveling in your car, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress before adjusting the front of it so it sits just right. You itch to grab your lip gloss that’s tucked into the side of your bra, but you don’t want to deal with the look you’d get if you went for it.

Rounding the corner to the living room, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach before you even have a chance to stop it when your eyes meet that messy head of chestnut hair, and a pair of hot pink nails tangled inside it.

“Oh - I - god dammit.” Robin groans, when you're met with number two on your list, making out with a pretty blond on the couch.

Despite the years and distance, there’s still a sting that you feel in the corners of your eyes. It’s not enough for any tears to fall, there’s none left for him anymore, but it’s enough for the anger you’ve clung to since the day he broke your heart to boil hot under your skin. It singes the wings of the butterflies that try to take flight when you see the way his frame has filled out, how he’s somehow grown more handsome than the last time you saw him.

Robin coughs, squeezing your wrist in reassurance.

“Hey, - uh, Steve.” The sound of his name catches his attention, long brown lashes fluttering open to reveal the deep coffee of his eyes that widen when they lock with yours for the first time in years.

His lips pull from the blond’s with a loud smack, leaving a small trail of glitter on the side of his mouth that he tries to wipe away quickly with his wrist. Black ink you’ve never seen before looks bold on his tanned skin that glows like it’s been freshly kissed by the sun.

His gaze wanders up and down your body like he’s unsure you’re actually real, and if it wasn’t for the obvious shock of your arrival and the way the color seems to drain from his face, you’d snap at him for the way it lingers over your curves.

“Um, Robin, what the fuck?” The sound of his voice makes your heart skip a beat, and again when his hand drags through his hair just how you remembered.

“Surprise?” She shrugs, wincing when he scoffs loudly and the warmth that went missing floods his cheeks, turning them bright red. The blond next to him eyes you up while she clutches harder to his waist, and you can’t stop the rise of your brows and the giggle that bubbles past your lips because of it.

Steve’s head snaps towards you, something softening the moss that hides in his eyes when he hears the noise despite the sarcasm that drips from it, and you really get to look at him for the first time since high school graduation.

God, you wish you could’ve had that drink.

His hair is a little messier than his carefully crafted look that used to take him a good forty five minutes every morning. It curls wildly at the ends now, tucking behind his ears and fanning along the nape of his freckled neck. It still looks as soft as you remember, though.

Why couldn’t Steve Harrington just peak in high school like he was supposed to?

“So yeah, this is awkward.” Your best friend laughs nervously, “We’re going to get a drink or three because this scenario is by far the worst case and not the way this was supposed to go in my head, but anyway, look who’s here for the summer! We’ll talk later!“

Robin grabs your wrist before Steve can respond, pulling you back into the party and away from your ex-boyfriend while the realization of the summer you’ve foolishly agreed to hits you all at once. It turns your body weightless as the two of you weave in and out of the crowd. It tightens in your chest, the music turning muffled hitting your ear drums. Suddenly, you're not the woman who crossed state lines to the one place she said she’d never come back to, happily living the lie that you’d actually forgotten about him to be a good friend.

You’re the girl who let him keep you a secret, and you hate him for it.

Sneakers hit the sticky tile floor that hasn’t changed since 1984, the harsh lighting of the kitchen makes you both squint. It’s calmer than the rest of the house, just a few groups lingering off in the corners, too deep in conversation to care about you and Robin. Letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your ears start to pop too, Eddie Money’s Take Me Home Tonight coming through crystal clear.

“The band-aid might have been violently ripped off, but hey, it’s ripped off nonetheless.” Robin shrugs, finding the half-drunk bottle of tequila on the counter. “I think we should count this as a win and take a shot to celebrate.”

“A win?! Are you kidding me?!” You hiss, completely bewildered.

“Yes a win - oh no.” Her blue eyes go wide at whatever’s behind you, but it doesn’t take you long to figure out when that familiar spice and cedar of his cologne hits your nose.

“Right so, who’s going to let me know what’s going on?”

His voice comes out close enough to send your lashes fluttering, mimicking your heart. The nerves you’d just gotten over threaten to come back tenfold, but you manage to swallow them down just like in high school, turning around.

“I think it’s obvious what’s going on, Steve,”

It’s not as hard to say his name as you thought it would be, but it is hard to stare at his face from this close. Specifically, the two moles that dot his cheek that you always used to kiss, or the ones on his neck that you hate still taunt you for more.

“I’m here for the summer.”

Steve Harrington had thought about this moment a lot, but Rick’s house was never the backdrop for it. His eyes take in the features you’ve not only grown into but somehow are even more beautiful than he remembers. Even if they’re twisted in a glare.

“I meant, why didn’t I know until right now?” He manages to get out with a shake of his head narrowing his eyes at Robin, who’s too busy trying to find clean shot glasses to notice.

“Why would you need to know?” You snap, making a nervous hand card through his hair

“Cause I’ve, uh, you know, I’ve asked about you a few times,” the last part comes out a little harsher, clearly directed at your best friend, who you know is actively ignoring you both now.

“Why? Why would you need to know anything about me?” Your hostility still shocks him even though he was expecting it. His eyebrows shoot up just like his hands in surrender. “Why didn’t you tell me, Robin?”

She groans loudly, slamming the tequila bottle down on the counter before turning around.

“You said you didn’t want to hear anything about him after you moved, why would I tell you he was asking about you?”

“Wait -“ Steve butts in this time, “seriously?”

“Oh my god, can you two shut the fuck up for a second and take these shots? You’re really putting a damper on the beginning of the best summer of our lives,” Robin snaps before waving a hand in front of three freshly poured shots.

It’s a struggle to tear your eyes from him, your body responding to his presence in a way that feels like it’s turning against you. It has you downing your shot in one quick motion before anyone else can even touch theirs.

“Wow, okay.” Robin deadpans before shaking her head, wasting no time in following your lead.

“So we’re not cheersing anymore? Isn’t that bad luck?” Steve mutters, shoulder brushing against yours as he leans forward to grab his shot, the slightest touch enough to engulf your skin into flames.

A whole summer? Fuck.

“Robin, pour another one.” You rush with pinched brows as you try to move past the bitter sting of the alcohol going down your throat, taking a step toward her and away from him, you add “and we’ll cheers.”

You refuse to meet his gaze when you say it, but you can feel the intensity of it on the side of your face, begging you to break.

“Rob’s, how are you guys getting home?” Steve finally breaks, giving up his quiet fight for now, and you hate the way his nickname for her softens your heart.

“Huh, that’s a good question, I hadn’t thought that far yet.” She admits, over pouring so tequila splashes against the countertop, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“Seriously–

“RECKLESS ABANDON STEVEY!” Cutting him off, she downs her shot in his disapproving face.

“You didn’t cheers again.” Steve sighs, hands finding his hips as you whine an irritated, “We needed to cheers!” At the same time.

Your eyes meet his finally, his knowing smirk twisting the corners of your lips despite yourself. You blame the tequila starting to warm the blood in your veins.

“Well, you need to take yours then if we’re doing another one ‘the proper’ way, or it’s not going to be even.” Robin points at your drink in a silent challenge.

You know how this game works.

“Fine.” You shrug, downing it with more ease than the last one.

“Oh my god. Stop! Do not pour another one before you answer my question, please!” Steve sounds exasperated, grabbing the bottle from her before she can disobey, “How are you getting home?”

You try not to focus on how much larger his already big hands are now, or how small the bottle looks wrapped up in his palm compared to your best friends. The second shot takes the edge off your nerves in a way that your shoulders relax. Leaning against the counter, you cross your arms, watching the two of them bicker, catching Steve’s wandering gaze on your exposed legs while he tries his best to keep his focus on Robin. It boosts your ego in a way that has the anger hiding just under the surface go from a boil to a slow simmer.

“I don’t know Harrington, do you know anybody with a car?” She wiggles two thick brows at him, the second shot making her blue eyes glassy, and her smile a little more goofy.

“Why’d I know you were going to say that? And why did I know you were going to do this?” Steve sighs, letting her snatch the bottle out of his hand.

“What? Bring her to the party?” Robin snorts pointing a thumb in your direction, making you gasp.

“Robin!”

“No! What? No. But don’t think,” Steve clears his throat looking at you awkwardly before finishing a little quieter, “don’t think we’re not going to talk about this later.”

“I can still hear you.” You remind him with a sarcastic smirk.

“Yeah, I know you can. Look, I’ll DD for you because obviously tonight is, uhh,” he gestures to you with cheeks that grow pinker by the second, “a big deal. But you gotta stop doing this to me, I need you to get your license you’re out of colleg-”

“Shots! Steve’s driving us home!” Robin whoops loudly, and an irritated Steve pinches the bridge of his nose before walking away.

Your eyes follow him out the door, shoulder blades flexing under cotton when he runs another hand through his hair before disappearing from sight. You try to push down the small pang of jealousy that makes a familiar home inside your chest remembering the blond girl waiting for him on the couch.

“Okay, okay,” Robin interrupts your inner struggle at the perfect time, sliding an overflowing shot over to you with a giggle that's contagious and it banishes Steve from your mind just like magic. “I’m not going to forget this time, promise.”

“I don’t think I can afford for you to forget again,” you smirk, raising your glass, tequila spilling over the tops of your fingers, “cheers!”

“Cheers!”

You both down them at the same speed, slamming the empty glasses back onto the countertop with laughter that bounces off the walls and threatens to drown out the music. And for a second you think maybe you can actually do this.

“I’m so happy you’re here!” She squeals, throwing her arms around your neck, doing a terrible job of holding her weight up. Grabbing onto her waist, you do your best to steady her, “Look I just want to say while he’s gone, I know this isn’t easy for you, okay? I know.”

She hiccups before pulling away slightly to look at you as she finishes,“But It means so much to me, and I just wanna say I’m proud of you. I mean, who knows, you’ve changed, he’s changed-”

“Nope, no, you’re done. Where’s the weed? I wanna smoke some weed.” You push Robin away, rolling your eyes at the loud laugh your reaction gets from her.

There’s a long summer ahead of you, but right now, all you need is to find a joint and try not to think about your ex in the next room.

With a few more shots and a couple of hits from a blunt you and Robin you’d stumbled upon being passed amongst a group outside, you start to really feel like you’re back home. Nostalgia hits you hard in the gut as you walk through the crowded living room hand in hand with your best friend, giggling and stumbling back to the kitchen on the hunt for some food.

“God, I’m so hungry!” Robin practically growls when you hit the harsh lighting again making you both hiss.

An empty bottle of tequila sits on the counter now and red solo cups litter the floor that weren’t there before, and a growing pile of bitten into limes cover the counters in a sticky mess. Alone and left to your own devices Robin begins to raid the cupboards, huffing when she finds nothing behind every door she aggressively yanks open.

“Why is his kitchen always so empty? Like? Do we just always miss the party?” You hiccup, tripping on a tile that’s coming out of the grout.

You catch yourself on the kitchen island in front of you, a loud laugh bubbling up from your chest, too drunk to focus on how gross the formica feels under your fingertips.

“There’s literally nothing to eat in here, not even like an old bag of stale chips.” She opens the first cabinet one last time before slamming it shut, officially giving up with a thump of her forehead against the wood. “This is why he’s always at the diner.”

“Wait, Rick actually lives here still?” Another hiccup, you foolishly lean your elbows on the counter, something you’ll regret in the morning as you stare at your best friend with a toothy smile, completely unaffected by the news about the missing food that seems to be ruining her entire mood.

“How can he sell weed and not have any food in his house? What happens when he gets the munchies?!” She throws her hands up, ignoring your question and answering it all at the same time. “I’m gonna find a bathroom, and then we’re gonna find Steve - don’t make that face, he’ll take us through a drive-thru.”

“Don’t be gone long, I don’t know anyone here!” You whine with a childish drunk stomp of your foot, still sporting that sour look she told you to wipe off. The carefree girl from moments before now gone in the blink of an eye.

“Literally like five minutes, I swear!” She promises, turning around with a smirk as she crosses her heart with a ring covered finger like you used to do as kids, easily earning the smile from you she was hoping for.

You watch her disappear into the party, staring after bouncing honey waves until they’re out of your sight.

Suddenly alone for the first time in hours, the kitchen feels quiet. The bass of the music is distant, and your thoughts are heavy just like your feet as your last shot of tequila settles with the rest. Your brain wanders to places that you thought you’d banished from the corners of your mind for years. It takes you to the pink fullness of his lips, and has you biting the bottom of yours. Then it’s the freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and explode across his cheeks, even leaving their mark on the bottom of his earlobe.

You’d found that one the night you’d tried to count them all. You never finished.

Then you remember the blond on the couch, and how her pink nails dug into the thick chestnut of his hair that you used to tug on when his kisses got to be too much. She turns into Nancy Wheeler and those stolen looks in the hallways at school, and suddenly, you hate him all over again.

“Jesus, you’re in here alone? Where’s Robin?” Steve’s voice makes you jump at the worst possible time, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scar-“

“Seriously?!” You snap, turning around with crossed arms. Leaning against the counter, you hope that you don’t seem as drunk as you are, but the way his lips twitch regardless of your attitude tells you that it’s not working. “She went to the bathroom and then was going to look for you.”

“So, it just makes sense for me to hang out here then, right?”Steve raises his hands in a silent plea for permission.

His big boots take heavy steps towards you, and just like on cue, has your body betraying you. The plush dough of your thighs pressing harder together each time he gets closer to closing the gap.

Cautiously taking the spot a few feet away from you, he keeps his hands up till he feels safe enough to shove them in his pockets. The spice of his cologne smells fresh, and you wonder if he sprayed it before walking in here. It overpowers everything else around you, invading your senses and committing itself to memory despite you.

“I um, I really hope this is okay to say,” he stammers watching the way one of your eyebrows arches up, and it doesn’t take long for his hand to escape from his pocket to run through his hair again, “but it’s, it’s good to see you. I m-missed you, Robin’s missed you.”

“Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your girlfriend?” You ignore him and tuck his words away to unpack another time with a sober mind.

“Cassie? She’s not my girlfriend.” He answers without any hesitation, something sparking alive inside the gold of his eyes that has one side of his mouth tugging up.

“Does she know that?”

“I’m pretty sure she does considering she left with another guy not that long ago.” He snorts, the confidence you’ve always known him to have finding its way back, and you don’t miss the way he scoots closer.

So you scoot back.

“Sucks to suck, Harrington.” You sigh, impressed with how well you’re playing off the victory lap you’re shamefully running in your head at the new information.

“There you are!” Robin rushes in, face flushed and out of breath, interrupting the moment you weren’t ready to have yet at the perfect time “Somehow I got roped into like a keg stand and I think it’s really time for us to go home guys.”

“Robin!”

“What?!”

She tries to shush you, but even you can see from across the room the way sweat starts to bead across her forehead, the blush in her cheeks going pale before she runs to the trash can. Steve pushes off the island without any hesitation, rushing to the other side of the kitchen, gathering her hair in his hands to hold it back.

“What were you thinking?” Steve scolds her in the softest way possible, rubbing her back as all the beer finds its way out of her body.

Those big eyes of his that you’re sure are going to haunt your dreams meet yours, and in that moment the room decides it wants to spin. You’re not sure if it’s the night of tequila with nothing but a weed chaser catching up to you or if it’s the onslaught of feelings you’ve successfully suppressed for the last five years coming back to seek their revenge. The deadly combination of both comes to a head the more you watch the gentle way Steve handles Robin and it makes you realize it’s time to go.

You manage to pull yourself together enough to help Steve get Robin in his car, heart almost stopping when you walk up to the same Maroon BMW he took your virginity in. It takes everything inside of you not to abort the mission, run to Robin’s apartment by figuring your way through the woods you used to play in, do anything but sit in those leather seats. But your best friend’s drunk rambles of how happy she is to have her ‘two amigos and how that it makes three now’ while professing her undying love for both of you has you putting on a brave face, and then your big girl pants when you have to sit in the front seat next to him.

It’s in perfect condition, just like the morning he pulled into the parking lot Junior year with it. Your stomach twists in the kind of knots that have you wrapping your arms around your waist. The smell of leather and pine pulling on the back of your throat, and all the memories that come with it. He keeps the radio low, and you can hardly make out the faint sounds of whatever late night talk show was on over the soft snores of a passed out Robin in the backseat.

“I thought you’d have a different car by now.” You grumble sinking further into your seat, keeping your eyes trained on the trees that zoom past your window.

“You’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands, honey.” Steve chuckles, relaxing a little more into his own, a big hand finding a new resting spot on the stick shift.

The endearment sends you reeling, the tequila making it hard to bite your tongue.

“Don’t call me that.” Quickly realizing that staring out the window does nothing to help your already dicey equilibrium, you decide to finally look at him, but you’re not sure if that’s any better.

‘What? Honey?” He asks, fully knowing the answer but egging you on just the same with a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Narrowing your eyes, you turn fully in your seat doing your best to ignore the way the street lights bounce off his sharp features as you face him.

“What? So you just make out with girls that you’re not dating and get away with it?”

Steve snorts, licking his lips and meeting your angry gaze with an amused one.

“I am twenty-four and single.”

Scoffing at his answer, you pause to collect your words that keep getting tangled on the tip of your tongue from too many drinks and how the whites of his teeth start to show in a grin as he glances in the rearview mirror to check on Robin.

“You think you can do whatever you want don’t you?”

“No -“

“What? Because you didn’t peak in high school like you were supposed to, you somehow just got hotter, you think the rules don’t apply to you or something?”

“Good to know you still think I’m hot.” Steve’s face cracks into a smile, turning into an apartment complex you’re assuming is Robin’s.

“You’re the worst,” you try to deflect weakly, turning back in your seat with a huff.

“I definitely used to be,” he mumbles mostly to himself, putting the car in park, both of you jerking forward slightly. The sudden lack of movement makes Robin groan in the back, lashes fluttering open to look at her surroundings.

“Oh, thank god, I think I’m gonna be sick again.” Her throat sounds hoarse when she finally speaks, but it’s all she can manage before a dry heave has the boy next to you scrambling.

“Not in my car! Not in my car!” Steve’s quick to jump out of the driver's seat rushing to get your best friend out of the back, leaving you alone to fight with your seatbelt.

Frustrated, you blow a breath out from between your pressed lips tugging on the smooth material while your thumb smashes the release button. It doesn’t budge and the cedar starts to pick at your nerves. An angry noise squeaks from the back of your throat catching Steve’s attention who finally gets Robin on her feet. The spice of his cologne swallows you whole when he emerges back into the car. Leaning over the console he’s gentle when he pushes your hand away. You don’t protest his help this time, eyes tracing the gold chain that slips out from under his shirt. It shimmers everytime it swings from his neck when it hits the moonlight, clicking the button with ease, releasing you from your self imposed trap.

“Thanks,” you grumble, using a wobbling arm to open your door, clambering out less gracefully than you intended.

“Are you good to follow me? I don’t think Robin’s gonna make it up the steps on her own.” Closing the car door, he leans over the top of it, his eyes watching the way you maneuver around his car like you’re walking on thin ice.

“I’m fine,” you growl, right as you lose your footing catching yourself with an open palm on the hood of his trunk.

“Seriously, I can help I just have to take you both one at a -“

“Steve, I said I’m fine. I don’t need anything from you.” You interrupt and if you weren’t so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, you’d see the way the harshness of your words make him wince.

He stares at you for a minute longer before muttering a quiet ‘whatever’ scooping Robin up and tucking her into his side. You follow them at your own pace up the cement steps to the second floor, thankful that her apartment isn’t too far from the landing when you get to the top. Your legs start to feel like Jell-O waiting for him to unlock the door, the long drive from New York and the night finally catching up to you in a way that makes your eyelids heavy as Steve pushes open her front door.

“Bathroom! Bathroom!” Robin manages to get out when she and Steve cross the threshold first, a string of cuss words spilling out of his mouth as he tries to hurry her to the place she was begging to be taken to.

You use the full force of your weight with your back to the door, closing behind you with a loud slam. The navy blue couch in the middle of her living room begging you to sit down, an invitation your clumsy steps accept, leading you to the fluffy cushions. Collapsing onto them with a satisfied hum, you sink into the foam, lashes fluttering and eyelids getting heavier with each second that passes, and soon you find yourself giving in with a warm cheek pressed into the arm rest.

You don’t know how much time has passed when the feeling of your laces being tugged loose stirs you awake. Trying to focus with vision still blurry from sleep, Steve’s messy head of hair comes clear into your line of sight. Long fingers pull the white strings from the metal eyelets of your converse, a warm palm wrapping around your ankle that sends a shiver up your spine as he slowly wiggles your sneaker off your foot. The white tube socks that cover your feet make him smile with a thumb that dares to rub a small circle on your skin before dropping it to work on the other.

“Steve,” you manage to get out, voice still thick with sleep.

“I’m just tucking you in, that’s all hon- and then I’ll get out of your hair.” He clears his throat after the nickname that set you off earlier burns like acid dying on his tongue.

You grumble something unintelligible, rubbing the mascara off your eyes as he pulls your other shoe off the pad of his thumb doing the same thing to your other ankle making your toes curl. Both his hands find their way to your calves squeezing softly at the muscles before he starts to lift them up.

“Come on, let's get you laying on your side.” He coos, helping you adjust so you’re finally horizontal. You groan a little, reaching out for him on instinct, the softness of his touch making a very drunk you crave more.

“I’d love to cuddle but I think you’d actually kill me in the morning,” he laughs to himself knowing you won’t remember any of this when you wake up.

You make some more noises that he can’t figure out if they're supposed to be words or not as he drapes Robin’s thick throw blanket over you. Grabbing the material in your fists when you feel it, you pull it even closer, a low satisfied hum spilling from between your lips that still sparkle with leftover glitter from your gloss. He watches the way you curl into yourself, fingers twitching at his side to run his knuckles over your cheek.

“Steve,” his name comes out clear as day, kicking up his heart rate.

“Yeah?” He squats down next to your face, the warmth of your breath hitting his face while your eyebrows furrow in your sleepy state trying to get whatever you want to say out.

“You really broke my heart, you know that?”

Your words punch the air out of his lungs, just like your unexpected arrival. Something he’s fantasized about happening more times than he’d like to admit.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighs defeated, giving into his urges for comfort with knuckles that brush against the warmth of your skin, a familiar burn stings his eyes when you subconsciously lean into it.

You don’t say anything else to him, the furrow of your brows smoothing out as your face finally starts to relax under his touch. He watches the way your shoulders move with each deep breath that pulls you further into sleep and away from him.

He takes a selfish minute to stare at you uninterrupted, tracing your cheekbone one last time before he stands up to leave, he knows he won’t get any sleep, and the words you won’t remember saying are already haunting him like a bad dream.

“Do you really wanna love me like you say you do? Give it to me like you say you do? Cause it’s hard enough you gotta treat me like this, lonely enough to let you treat me like this. Do you really love me?”

Steve was late, glancing down at pink the digital watch on your wrist, fifteen minutes late. Five lockers down from his, you wait for him at what’s been your meeting spot for the last eight months. Far away enough from his locker that no one would suspect you waiting for the King of Hawkins himself, but close enough to the janitor's closet for him to steal you away from sight without anyone noticing for the forty-five minutes of study hall.

Hushed argumentative whispers catch your attention, nerves making your feet move from side to side unsure if you should abandon ship and just go and study for the final in your last period. Nancy Wheeler's eyes meet yours as she rounds the corner with her best friend Barb, the corners of her lips pulling up ever so slightly giving you a small wave which you return as she tries to ignore her friend.

“He’s just trying to get in your pants! Come on, you have to be smart enough to know that.” Barb points at the note Nancy is clutching in her hand so hard that the whites of her knuckles show.

“It’s not like that, I’m just tutoring him.” She argues but the blush that creeps across her cheeks and spreads down her neck gives her away.

I’m just tutoring him.

That simple sentence is enough for your world to tip off its axis, chest tightening at the realization of who they're arguing about. All the canceled plans the past few weeks with the excuse of extra tutoring starts to feel like a knife to the gut. Prince Charming rounds the corner holding and twists the handle with a bright flirtatious smile that used to be just for you, only now it’s flashed at the dainty brunette who melts under it because no one is immune to Steve Harrington.

It takes him a minute to see you, too wrapped up in Nancy who’s back is pressed to the lockers, caged in by Steve’s big hand splayed against the metal by her head. They’re too far to hear what he’s saying to her, but the confident way his teeth flash and the sweet giggle he earns from it tells you everything you need to know. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. Fists clenched at your sides, the blunt ends of your nails dig into your palms as you hold in the sob that threatens to give you away as you walk past them, meeting his guilty eyes before you round the corner.

The pounding in your head wakes you up before the sun that leaks through Robin’s small kitchen window. Your hangover rings in your ears with a vengeance, and has you letting out a pained groan. Everything after the joint you shared outside at the party is nothing but a blur, a scattered puzzle with pieces missing as you try and figure out how you ended up back home and tucked into the couch.

“Are you alive out there?” Robin’s voice calls out weakly from down the hall in her room.

“Barely,” you grumble, agitation kicking in from dehydration and the old wounds your dream decided to rip open.

“I’d say I’m never drinking again but we both know that’s a lie,” she says, muffled by what sounds like a pillow.

A giggle tries to escape, but it only makes you wince, clutching your forehead willing the pain to subside.

“How’d we even get home?” You croak, rubbing harshly at your eyes before attempting to sit up, covering them with a cupped palm as your surroundings get brighter.

“Steve,” Robin’s voice comes out right next to you, surprising you by appearing in the entryway.

Hearing his name out loud sends the kind of rage that scorches through your veins, it burns from your fingertips remembering the look on his face when you broke up a few weeks after that day in the hallway your dreams so sweetly reminded you of.

It was Pity.

Your best friend ignores your silence and the sour look on your face as you silently take a trip down memory lane while she shuffles into the living room wandering to the attached kitchen.

“How far is Eddie’s shop from here?” You grimace watching her chug from a carton of orange juice.

“Oh, super close. You can walk from here.” She answers, wiping her upper lip with the back of your hand, “they opened like two hours ago, I’m sure he’s already looked at your car.”

“I think I’m going to shower and go over, do you want to come with me?” Raising your hands above your head, you stretch your sore muscles as a yawn comes out in the middle of your question.

“I think I need to rot in bed for a little while longer before I go walk amongst the living, I promise I’m all yours after I don’t feel like a freaking crypt keeper.” Your yawn is contagious, giving you a view of all her perfectly straight teeth.

“I demand something greasy for lunch when I get back then.” You point at her finding your footing on the carpet, noticing your converse are tucked nice and neat against the couch next to you. The feeling of Steve’s knuckles is a ghost against your skin, details starting to come out clear from the murky waters.

Heat rushes to your cheek at the memory while your emotions start to go at war with each other over what to feel towards the man who tucked you and your best friend in last night, but also broke your heart in a way you don’t think you’ll ever quite forget.

“I’m on it boss, god, I wish Benny’s was still open.” Robin interrupts the inner struggle she’s oblivious to you having as she walks past you flinging herself on the couch you’d just won the battle of leaving “But I’ll think of something good, I promise.”

Just like your yawn, the smile she gives you is contagious despite the sharp pain you get in your head from moving too much and you both laugh wincing when it only gets worse.

Ibuprofen first, then your car.

Birds chirp loudly, mocking the headache that's turned into something more annoying than painful after a handful of ibuprofen. The sticky air is still suffocating even in a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized loose fitting tee, while the sun shines golden against the cerulean sky without a cloud in sight to hide you from its light.

The heat warming off its rays makes beads of sweat start to collect at the crown of your head and the nape of your neck, while the incline Eddie’s spinning auto body sign sits on top of threatens to take your breath away. Unwanted thoughts of Steve Harrington keep your pace quick, stewing over the last twenty-four hours and everything it’s unraveled.

The small parking lot is empty when you reach it, kicking small rocks with the toe of your sneaker as you cross it. The double garage doors are open, Metallica’s Seek and Destroy echoing loudly, tugging up the corners of your lips. Your Chevrolet Caprice is the only car semi-lifted in the air with a pair navy coverall-clad legs underneath it.

Opening your mouth, Eddie’s name dies on your tongue before you get a chance to shout it, clocking him and his wild curls sitting in the glass office inside. Those big brown eyes meet yours from across the way, a dimple filled grin lighting up his face waving excitedly from his chair before standing up.

“Glad to see you’re alive, princess.” He teases stepping out of his glass case, with coveralls that are gray today.

“Honestly, it’s a miracle,” you laugh, confused eyes darting to the large boots under your car that don’t seem to have any reaction to the sound of your voice.

“Oh, I heard all about your first night back home. In fact my shop opened thirty minutes late because of it,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the open metal frame where the door should be. Faded bats that you remember when they were fresh dancing across his arm with his movements.

“Wait, what?” You ask, confusion pinching your brows together right as the mysterious pair of legs start pushing out whoever’s under your car.

“I didn’t get back to my place till almost four in the morning after getting you two home and in bed,” Steve emerges flashing you his million dollar smile as he sits up on the dolly, the sleeves of his own coveralls tied tight around his waist and hair wild like he’d just rolled out of bed, “I slept through my alarm.”

The immediate glare that hardens your face when you see him has Eddie's eyes light with obvious amusement.

“What are you doing here? And why are you touching my car?” You snap, trying to push the worries about what you look like deep under the irritation and the distraction that begs to steal your anger with his arms on full display like this. Or how the patch of chest hair that peeks out the top of it shines with sweat.

“I work here,” Steve snorts like it’s the most obvious conclusion, because, well, it is, “and I volunteered to look at it, Eddie’s got his hands full.”

That was a lie, he begged him.

“Since when do you know anything about cars?” Snorting, your attitude makes him roll his eyes, pushing himself off the ground.

It’s a struggle to hold his gaze when he stands at full height, biceps flexing with his movements practically daring you to look. He pulls out a faded maroon rag from his pocket and starts wiping off the fresh black from his hands that’s already stained under his nail beds. The hard bottoms of his work boots making their way across the cement floors of the garage.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore, that’s what happens when someone leaves for five years.” Steve antagonizes, his lack of sleep leaving him with thin patience.

He stops just close enough for you to smell how the woodsy spice of his cologne mixes with the sweet bitterness of the oil that seems to find a way to leave its mark on every surface in here. Including him.

“I’m going to finish balancing the books, why don’t you tell her the good news first and then the bad,” Eddie pours ice over the tension that threatens to boil over before it can turn hostile, catching the way both of your nostrils flare and shoulders square up.

“Wait, there’s good news and bad news?” Your focus on Steve shifts as Eddie’s words sink in.

“Like I said, I’m going to finish balancing the books.” The metal head reminds you, giving a half salute with two fingers while simultaneously shooting a stern look to Steve who’s mouthing something behind you. “Your mechanic’s going to go over everything with you, we can talk about pricing when it’s all said and done.”

“Seriously?” You bluster as Eddie shrugs with the kind of nonchalance that sends you reeling before sitting back down, tuning the dial-up on the radio in his office. End of discussion.

“Look -“

“How do I even know that you know what you’re talking about?” You interrupt, making his full lips set into a straight line.

“Are you going to be like this the whole time?” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before crossing his arms, the tops of his shoulders moving with them.

A pleading expression softens his features instead of the hard combative one you were anticipating, and it helps your blood pressure return to normal. The realization hitting you that maybe skipping breakfast with a hangover probably wasn’t your smartest idea.

“N-no, sorry, I just feel like -“

“Shit? Yeah, I bet.” He chuckles, and your jaw clicks. Maybe if you count to three…

“Just tell me what’s wrong with my car, Steve.” It comes out clipped, but it's an improvement from your fingers twitching to rip that handsome head right off those shoulders that won’t stop trying to distract you.

“How about you tell me the last time you had your oil changed?” He counters, taking a few steps back to sit on the hood of the rusted baby blue Buick behind him.

“Uhh, I- I think,” All the blood rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin as you try to wrack your brain and not focus on the way his legs spread wide to keep his balance. “Maybe, like, six months ago.”

“Six months?!” The number must be worse than whatever Steve was preparing for when a dirty hand runs through his hair, “and then you drove it three states to get here?”

“Yeah, I - I mean, hearing you say it out loud,” you grimace thinking of all the weeks you ignored that flashing orange light on your dashboard.

“So then you shouldn’t be surprised when I tell you that your engine locked up.”

“Is this the bad news?”

“Kind of,”

“What do you mean kind of?”

“Look, the good news is that I can fix it, the bad news is that I have to order a few parts that could take up to three weeks to get here, then the job itself is going to take me probably another week.” He sighs standing up, starting back towards your car with you quick on his heels.

“That’s the whole summer!” You argue like it could possibly make a difference, frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes watching him pop open the hood.

“More like half of it, but hey, you’re lucky I can even get it running again without having to replace the whole thing.” He meets your gaze from under his lashes leaning over the engine, long nimble fingers unscrewing the cap where your oil should go.

“You’re gonna be just fine, city girl,” Steve grins up at you before reaching even further under the hood, muscles flexing with him, “besides we both know I can’t say no to Robin.”

He pulls at a small tube that’s purpose is unknown to you but you keep eyes trained on his movements like you have an idea, anything to keep the focus off the gold chain that dangles from his neck.

“Or you.” The last part comes out so quiet, a focused look pinching his brows together as he continues his investigation.

“Me?”

He doesn’t look at you when he shrugs, pulling at something with a little more force that makes you both flinch.

“How much is this going to cost me, Steve?” Your defeat shows in your tone, as the question slips quietly from between your lips that you wish you’d have put gloss on now.

He grunts at the same time something pops against metal under his hands, muttering a string of curse words under his breath before standing back up wiping his palms on the white cotton of his tank top. Charcoal stains fill the small grooves in the fabric with each swipe of his hands, pulling the collar further down every time. It’s a losing battle not to look at his chest when every motion reveals more of the thick curls underneath.

Steve clears his throat, letting you know that you’ve been caught and it’s at this moment you wish you could walk in front of the moving truck that drives loudly past the shop, only exaggerating the silence that follows.

“Don’t stress about that today,” he smiles, letting you off the hook for now, something mischievous dancing in his eyes for another time. “Like Eddie said, we’ll figure it out.”

“Don’t stress about it?! Have you met me?” You huff, the money you’ve saved up for the summer starting to dwindle right before your eyes.

“I have actually,” Steve chuckles, stepping close enough for the tips of your shoes to touch his boots. He feels bold when you don’t make any attempt to move away like at the party or retreat when he closes the gap. A thumb and forefinger finding their way to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, “and you’re going to be fine, I promise.”

Your lips part on their own, the full force of his face from this close stealing the breath from your lungs. You can smell the coffee he had this morning and the mint from his toothpaste still lingering on his breath. The stubble that lines his sharp jaw is even more noticeable today, tapering off at the top of his neck making the cluster of moles that live there stand out even more. A pink tongue runs over his full bottom lip and it has your lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks.

“Now go get some food, grumpy,” his voice comes out low, a teasing edge to it that reminds you of what it’s like to have Steve Harrington flirt with you. “I’ll call when I get the parts, okay?”

It’s like detention junior year all over again as you turn into putty in his hand. Still too attractive for his own good, all you can do is nod while all the fight you had left inside you disappears as the pad of his thumb swipes soft against your heated skin just under your pouted lip before letting you go. He turns on his heel after that, walking back to the box of tools he has spread out over his workbench before adding,

“Do me a favor and tell Robin she owes me a new shirt.”

beta’d by @sweetsweetjellybean

#sh fic recs

1K notes · View notes

chezzywezzy · 3 years ago

Text

Yandere Billy & Stu (2/4)

Word count ; 3.7k

*Edited.

She sat her head on my lap and I combed my fingers through her hair as she drifted off to sleep. After some time, I felt drowsy too, so I leaned back on the couch and took a nap.

My nap ended up being longer than anticipated; by the time my eyes fluttered open, I noticed it was dark outside.

And I could have sworn I heard some shuffling from the kitchen, but Sidney was still cuddling into my lap.

Sidney began to stir, probably from my shifting underneath her. She yawned and rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Probably seven.”

“Oh shit. And Tatum still isn’t here?”

“Practice is probably running late.” The phone started ringing. I pushed Sid off my lap and went to kitchen. I expected it to be Tatum when I lifted it off the receiver. “Tate?”

“Practice ran late,” Tatum was panting from the other side. “I’m on my way, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

“Is Sidney holding up well?”

“As good as she could be, I guess. Get here soon, ‘kay?”

“I’m gonna swing by the video store. I was thinking Tom Cruise in ‘All the Right Moves.’ If you pause it just right, you can see his penis—"

“Ew, god no.” My nose scrunched up in disgust. “Just hurry up.”

“Ta-ta!”

With that, I hung up and leaned against the counter. Sidney joined me, still groggy. “Was that her?”

“Yeah, she’s on her way, don’t worry.”

I noticed Sidney was watching out the dark windows but didn’t say anything. We waited quietly. I was a little hungry, but I didn’t feel like bothering the already tormented soul. And I knew I’d be able to raid Tatum’s fridge when we got to her house.

Not even a few minutes later, the phone began ringing. I picked it up, even if Sidney motioned to have it. “Tatum, just get in the car—"

“Hello, Sidney.”

“This… isn’t Sidney. Who is this?” Said girl hovered behind me curiously.

“You tell me.”

“Motherfucker, state your name and business or I’m hanging up—"

Sidney tore the phone out of my grasp. “H - hi, who is this?”

Sidney suddenly rolled her eyes. “Randy, you just gave yourself away. Are you calling from work? ‘Cause if you are, tell Tatum to get her ass over here.” She became rather confused. “I like that thing you’re doing with your voice Randy, it’s sexy.” She twirled the cord and walked around a little. “You know I don’t watch that shit… No, no, what’s the point? They’re all the same. Some stupid killer stalking some big breasted girl that can’t act when she’s running up the steps when she should be going out the front door. It’s insulting to us women.” She sighed, becoming more and more irritated. “Randy, that’s so unoriginal. I’m so disappointed in you.”

Sidney’s expression morphed into that of terror. “So, who are you?” And only a second later, she followed up with, “S - so where are you?”

Sidney picked up the phone and started for the front door. I followed suit, growing ever-so puzzled by her actions. “Sid, who is it?”

“I - I don’t know. They said they’re calling from the front porch,” she hissed fearfully.

She took a moment to peek out the window before throwing the front door open. We both walked onto the porch. I shivered due to the cold evening air. “So can you see me now?” She snickered and stuck her finger up her nose. “What am I doing, huh? Huh, what am I doing?” She suddenly deflated, as though all the tension had rolled off her shoulders. She rolled her eyes. “Nice try, Randy. Tell Tatum to hurry up, okay? Bye now.”

I could hear shouting coming from the phone, and Sidney seemed genuinely terrified in an instant. I snatched the phone away and began ushering her indoors. “The fuck did you say to her, bitch? Tell me who the fuck you are or I’ll fuckin’ make your life a living hell—"

When I walked past the closet, it suddenly burst open. A muted scream tore from my throat while Sidney jumped back with a screech. I fell limp on the floor, a large, cloaked body having fallen on top of me. Sidney scrambled to kick the man while I tried to push him off me, but the man suddenly slashed Sidney’s ankle. She fell down and began crawling the stairs. I kicked and struggled, thinking that it was the end for me, but the masked murderer clambered off me and made his way toward Sidney.

I collected myself and stood up. The man grabbed Sidney’s injured ankle, to which she screamed and kicked, about to pull her all the way down. However, I thwarted his plan by tackling him. Attempting to shove me off, he ended up falling back, his back on my chest and my back on the floor. I let out a groan of pain, but was glad that Sidney made it to the top of the stairs. She screamed for me to get up, to which I struggled under the man’s weight.

After the intruder had recovered, instead of going for me, the obvious target, he ran up the stairs. He almost grabbed Sidney, but she swung herself into her bedroom and slammed the door shut. I used what strength I had to flop over and push myself up. I was shaking like crazy, even if I couldn’t will myself to scream. I had to get to the phone and call the police.

The masked man was banging on the bedroom door, my gaze glued to him. I picked up the phone and stance myself so that I could fight him off if he tried to attack me. My entire body was trembling like crazy.

In a rush, the murderer chased me down the staircase. I got my foot ready to kick him off, but instead, he ran right around me and went out the back door. I was so shocked by his decision to… not kill me that I dropped the phone just as Tatum entered. She noticed the mess and my frightened state just as Sidney screamed from upstairs.

~~~

After a traumatizing evening, there’s nothing I wanted more than to seek comfort from my mom. For the last half hour, I had curled myself up in the trailer’s moldy old couch with a blanket clutched to my chest. I was scared, yes, but I didn’t cry. I stopped crying years ago, even if I knew it was wrong to have pent up emotions. I was just too stubborn to cry for an asshole who left us alone. And right now, I refused to cry because of some pussy serial killer.

The dim ceiling light flickered. I sighed, knowing I’d have to replace the bulb soon. My toes curled around the blanket as I stared at the black, tiny television. Rain began pattering down the plastic windows. I checked the clock one more, frowning. It was past midnight.

The phone started ringing. As badly as I wanted it to be one of my friends, I had a feeling it wouldn’t be. I let the phone ring, cuddling further into the couch. I checked out the window, but all I could see was the rolling water and darkness.

After a few minutes, they hung up. I knew exactly who was calling when the phone started up again. I sighed, heart thudding loudly in my chest, and forced myself up. I still had the blanket wrapped tightly around me and I hovered over the phone for a moment. I reluctantly picked it up.

“…Hello?”

“Hello, Y/n.”

Lo and behold, it was him. The same deep voice and same teasing tone. I couldn’t help but feign anger as I snapped back, “Piss off, motherfucker. Leave me and my friends alone—"

“Now, now, no need to be so feisty,” his cruel chuckle reverberated. “After all, we don’t want Sidney and Tatum having a surprise visit tonight, hm?”

I squeezed the phone tightly. “Fuck you. What do you want?”

“You.”

I fell silent and I felt so, so chilly. My blood went cold. I wasn’t sure how to respond, or if I could even respond in the first place. The phone let out small creaks under my tightened grasp. Oh, I was far too scared. “…What?” I squeaked, passing my plush body against the wall.

“You heard me, Y/n.”

“Wh - what did I ever do to deserve it? What did Sidney ever do? I - I know I’m not the nicest, but I don’t deserve to die—"

I was interrupted by loud, maniacal laughter from the other side. I pulled the phone away from my ear and slammed it on the receiver. I leaned further against the wall, and I lost my shit right then and there when I continued to hear the laughter - right outside my trailer. I slammed my body against the door and checked the lock. A force suddenly started pushing into it, but I managed to lock it in time.

I let out a muted scream and scrambled to call nine-one-one. The killer kept slamming his body into the front door, and it was starting to give. The trailer was old and small, so it was hardly a place of comfort. I called nine-one-one, but the trailer door came crashing down. My sight zoned in on the glint of a familiar ornate knife. I screamed louder and scrambled into the tiny living room.

The killer had regained his composure and stood in the hallway, sufficiently blocking any escape I could’ve made. My entire body was trembling and I could tell he was enjoying the stare-down. I prayed that the police would track my call and come to the rescue.

Taunting me, the killer glided his gloved finger over the blade. He tilted his head and took a step forward. So, naturally, I took a step back.

As a last ditch effort to escape, I turned tail and ran into the bedroom, where there were two bunk beds. I slammed the door behind me, holding it shut since it didn’t have a lock. In the small space, there was but one window. And I knew that was my only chance of not dying.

The killer kept shoving his body into the door. I counted the rhythm, and when the killer back up to get momentum, I jumped away from the door. He came crashing through and fell to the ground. I let out a squeak of fright and went for the window while the intruder scrambled around the floor. I threw the window open, immediately getting coated in water. I gripped the sides and tried climbing through, but a gloved hand jerked my ankle. I hit my head on the rim, causing me to groan. I was being dragged further on the plastic floor, but I was too dazed from the definite concussion to kick. I let out quiet whimpers and caved, waiting for a knife to plunge into me.

The tall killer had straddled my waist. I felt the knife skim across my neck and circle right over my heart. Then it traveled all the way to my stomach.

Oh no. I was going to be gutted, wasn’t I?

A hand suddenly slid up to my throat, the satin gloves brushing against my hands. For a serial killer, his touch was gentle. Tears slid down my cheeks and I couldn’t bear to open my eyes. He gave my throat a taunting and sudden squeeze, and I couldn’t help but let out a cough. My arms were suddenly restrained to the above my head, and the killer had surprisingly abandoned his knife.

I struggled to get my wrists free, absolutely mesmerized out of fear as the intruder loomed over me. His free hand pressed my cheek before pausing over it. I was as confused as I was anything else, but due to his… nonviolent course of actions, I was getting pissed off enough to scrunch my nose up.

“Ge… get it over with, m - motherfucker,” I hissed hatefully, sending him a harsh glare.

He tilted his head again, leaning closer. I bit my lip so hard it started bleeding as I was forced to stare into the murderer’s long mask. It was a long staredown, his inching closer with each passing moment. And, for some reason, he shoved his head into the crook of my neck. I felt his warm breath hazing over my flesh through the mask. I shuddered, feeling oh-so vulnerable in this position. Please, someone save me —

An audible gasp came from the living room. It startled both me and the intruder, who scrambled off me. He snitched his knife and I screamed desperately. I couldn’t let this bitch hurt my mom, no!

I crawled after and almost succeeded in tackling him. My mother screamed from the living room, so I ran in afterward, absolutely petrified. I heard police sirens in the distance, but I paid them no heed. The killer was gone and my mother… had a large slash against her chest. She was leaning agains the wall, clutching her wound. Tears flooded down my cheeks as I ran to cradle the woman in my arms. She was sobbing too, but she kept saying how glad she was I was okay.

My mind was racing. That asshole slashed my mother without thought even though she only showed up a moment ago. So what the hell did he want with me? He had so much time to slice and dice, and yet he wasted his time… sniffing my neck?

I had more concerning things to worry about. My poor mother was severely injured, so no way in hell could I leave her side.

~~~

Of-fucking-course.

I watched the school yard from a distance, staring down the news vehicles and hoard of reporters. It’d already been one day - I took it off the stay with my mother in the hospital - and yet those fuckers were still waiting to hear from me and Sid as if it was any of their damn business.

An arm was tossed around my shoulder. I let out a gasp and pushed the person away, only to find that it was Stu. His usual goofy grin faltered. I let out a sigh of relief. I… was glad he was here, since maybe he’d make the school day a little more bearable.

“Oh… sorry,” I muttered. After being attacked, I couldn’t help but constantly feel vulnerable. I was a whirlpool of so many negative emotions.

“Hey, hey, it’s cool!” Stu reassured, grabbing my shoulder. “Man, you should really stay over tonight or something, I heard about what happened.”

I bit my lip nervously as Stu started pulling me toward the school. “Things may be… rough right now, but you should really focus on your girlfriend instead. I couldn’t sleep over in good conscious, although I appreciate it, Stuart,” I muttered.

Stu frowned, pulling me closer. “Ya sure? At least come over for a movie night.”

“I wanna stay with my mom. That… asshole may wanna finish her off, I can’t risk it,” I choked, head drooping.

Stu rubbed my back comfortingly.

As we approached the yard, unsurprisingly, the reporters began to spot us. Or, rather, me. Sidney must’ve arrived earlier with Tatum. I knew she was still scared about Billy showing up, but it obviously wasn’t him. The police knew that now, so hopefully the poor guy was released.

“Y/n L/n! How does it feel to almost be brutally butchered?” one woman called, rushing up and shoving a camera in my face.

This started a chain of events, in which a man also followed up, shouting, “Is your mother dead?”

“Do you have any idea who the killer is —?”

I couldn’t muster the courage to intimidate the annoying assholes. Stu, though, seemed royally ticked off. He tossed them a middle finger with a scowl. “Piss off and leave her alone!”

“We have the right to know,” one of them argued.

“No you fucking don’t. She was attacked and you’re harassing her,” Stu growled, knocking one of the cameras to the ground. “Come on, let’s go.”

The reporters were scrambling to fix their cameras, so we took the chance to dart into the school. I felt so weak. Why the hell should I need my friend to stand up for me? Why the hell couldn’t I even call the police or protect my mom? This serial killer was making a fool out of me.

Tears welled in my eyes and I bowed my head further. We entered the busy crowd of high school students. I was glad that Stu was here, clingy and affectionate as usual. Even if I was usually apprehensive, I couldn’t help but lean further into his body.

“Hey, uh, has Billy been fuckin’ released?” I asked awkwardly.

Stu nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Your attack was enough to convince the cops.”

“I just - I just don’t know what that asshole wants,” I muttered desperately, my voice cracking. “The guy had the chance to kill me and yet he goes for my poor mom who has it hard enough. Whoever the fuck it is… I hate him.”

Stu tensed as we pulled up to my locker. Energetically he cupped my cheeks and squished them. “Hey, man, it’ll be okay. We’re at school now. Are ya gonna come to class?” he pouted.

I sighed, leaning into his touch ever so slightly. “Nah. I don’t like knowing I could end up sitting next to a murderer… Thanks for being so, uh, fuckin’ nice, Stuart.”

Stu grinned and pulled away. I placed my bag inside my locker as Stu wrapped his arms around my waist. It was rather needy, but I guess it wasn’t the right time to shy away from his constant affection. Sidney and Tatum weaved through the crowd and found us.

Sidney was quick to envelope me in a warm hug. “You should have slept over, Y/n! I’m so sorry about what happened to your mom,” she croaked.

I sighed, hugging back. Stu still had an unwinding grip on me, but Tatum’s glare made him shrink away and turn his attention over to his girlfriend. I rubbed Sid’s back. “I’m glad you’re safe, too.”

Sidney pulled away and directed her attention to Stu. “Haven’t seen Billy around. Is he really pissed?”

“Oh, you mean after you branded him the Candyman? No, his heart is broken—"

“Stu!” Tatum scolded while hitting his arm.

“Ow,” he feigned dramatically, saddling up next to me.

Suddenly, someone in a copycat costume came zooming down the hallway shouting. I flinched and grabbed Stu’s arm, still frightened from the copycat. Sidney was just as startled, but Tatum was there to comfort her.

“Why are they doing this?” Sidney exasperatedly cried.

“Are you kidding? It’s like Christmas!” Stu exclaimed.

I sent him a glare and distanced myself again while Tatum knocked him upside the head. “Stupidity leak!” Tatum went back to sucking on her lollipop while glaring at the boy.

“Yo, take it easy!” Stu chuckled.

Sidney wasn’t doing so well. She took off down the hallway, having burst into tears. I sent Stu one more glare before racing after her. However, the crowd was too much, and I quickly lost her. I figured she went downstairs, however, I ended up knocking right into a boy.

The man caught me, and I realized it was Billy. As glad as I was to see him free, I was worried to Sidney. “H - hey, did you see where Sidney went?”

Billy smirked, grabbing my arm. “Wow, what a warm welcome. Is everything okay?”

“You… you don’t know about anything that fuckin’ happened, huh?” I reluctantly inquired, feeling uncomfortable with how he still kept a hold of my arm.

“No. Can’t ya tell me?” he said, tongue swiping over his lips as he stared me down. “I don’t know what’s been going on, but I’m worried about ya, doll.”

Shivers went up my spine. I’m not sure why I was reacting this way to my somewhat beloved friend, but he was staring at me like a piece of meat. Had he always been this… seductive? Surely, he knew what he was doing.

“Uh-huh. Well, why don’t you ask your girlfriend. I’m glad you’re out of fuckin’ prison, but I need to find Sid, Bill,” I tittered.

“Woah, woah, woah, don’t tell me you think it’s me,” he defensively said. The students were getting scarcer and I tried tugging out of Billy’s grasp. However, he just grabbed my other arm and pushed against the wall. I struggled further, having developed a slight fear of the boy. He didn’t look angry. “Come on, doll face, just tell me what happened!”

“Bill, let go of me,” I pleaded, my panic rising. “Shit happened, okay? Didn’t Stu already tell you?”

Billy sighed and his tight grip moved to my elbows. He let go of my arms and grabbed my waist, suddenly pulling me to his chest. His hands wrapped around my waist and I was stuffed tightly against him. He burrowed his face in my neck, and it was like all at once he was reminding me of the intruder. However, his hands soothingly rubbed my back, causing a conflict to rise within me. Billy was scaring me, but I also knew he was still my innocent friend.

He eventually pulled away, his gaze fixated and worried. “Stu mentioned an attack, but didn’t go into details.”

“Oh. Well, uh, almost died I guess. And my mom’s in the hospital, so… But I’m definitely more worried about Sid, since her mom died and all. You really should find her, Bill.”

Billy’s head drooped slightly. “I’m sorry that happened. Maybe I’ll talk to Sid, but, uh, I’m pretty sure it’s not reciprocated.”

“Hey, it’s obviously not you. She - we were scared and you just… showed up. It was suspicious, but I know you’re not the killer. You wouldn’t do something like that. You,” I chuckled, “and Stu may annoy the shit outta me, but you’re no killer.”

“Yeah. Well, can you sit with me and Stu during lunch?”

“I’m gonna sit with Sid, sorry.”

Billy’s mouth morphed into a frown and his eyes twitched. “…Yeah, okay. I’m gonna get to class, I’ll see ya later, doll.”

“…Right. Later, Bill.”

#yandere #yandere slashers #x reader #x y/n #self insert #yandere scream #scream movies #scream franchise #scream #scream 1996 #yandere billy loomis #billy loomis #billy x reader x stu #yandere stu macher #stu macher

735 notes · View notes

jungkxook · 4 years ago

Text

—hot boy bummer. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / friends with benefits / friends to lovers + smut

⟶ words: 14,633

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: when jungkook offers you a proposition of just sex, no strings attached, how can you possibly say no? after all, what are best friends for?

⟶ warnings: kind of a crack fic, sprinkle of angst, way too casual conversations mid-sex, jealous jungkook, slight himbo jungkook tbh (he’s kind of a sweet loveable idiot), he also has a big dick oops, man bun and blonde jungkook to feed my fantasies!, multiple smut scenes!!!, missionary, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, unprotected sex, slight degradation (mostly jungkook hating himself), brief name calling, light choking, sort of praise kink

⟶ note: this was inspired by a number of things but mainly do me by kim petras being on jungkook’s spotify playlist, this tiktok sound, and this tumblr post lol also big thank you to @bratkook and @onherwings for letting me ramble on about this fic and reigniting my inspo for it 💛

( p.s. i tried to proofread this but if y’all see any typos no u didn’t, thank u <3 )

Being friends with Jungkook meant a myriad of things but mainly that there were hardly ever any boundaries that stood between you and him.

Having known him for most of your life, it was just a quintessential part of yours and his relationship with one another. From high school parties where you drunkenly spewed on his shoes and in his dad’s car after he tried lugging you home (and taking the fall all himself for your sake) to letting him lose his virginity in your bed to some girl you didn’t know because your parents were out of town and his would crucify him on the spot if they had found out; or him discovering your stash of vibrators in your dorm one day, or seeing each other naked more often than was probably necessary, there was nothing that either of you could do that would phase the other at this point even when it maybe, probably, definitely should.

College, and Jungkook’s sudden six pack of hard rock abs, only seemed to amplify the chaos of your friendship. If you’re being honest, the abs are sort of a plus ━ but they brought an air of fuckboy to him that is undeniably there even if he tries to deny it sometimes. You suppose it isn’t all his fault. Jungkook has always been bold and brash, attractively charming. Considering he’s seemingly made it his mission to sleep with every girl on campus before he graduates (undisclosed, if you’re being honest, because he’s never outwardly admitted it but you have a hunch), his confidence somehow hasn’t failed him yet.

But then there’s one night in which you think to yourself briefly: this surely must draw some sort of line.

“What if we, like, had sex?”

Jungkook says this a little too casually from beside you. He’s sat on the couch in his dorm, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, and you’re sprawled out on the remaining space, feet kicked up in his lap. You’re positive he’s drunk but, then again, so are you. The remnant shot glasses of soju you had both started the night with (though you think Jungkook’s had half the bottle himself), and your second glass of wine, are all evidence of that. You’re so absorbed by some anime Jungkook had been watching upon your arrival and refused to change that you almost don’t hear what he says. Almost. You do, however, nearly choke on the gummy bear you’ve just tossed into your mouth.

After a sudden hysterical fit of coughs, you manage to sputter, “Excuse me?”

“Like, hypothetically speaking.” He hardly budges when you turn to gawk at him, as if he’s asking you something as casual as what to eat for dinner or if you could pass him the T.V. remote. “Except, not really hypothetically.”

“You’re joking, right?” You scoff.

Jungkook blinks. “No. Why would I be joking?”

You blink. The longer you stare at him, the quicker you’re able to discern that there’s some sort of earnesty in his words and it slightly concerns you. Suddenly, you’re warm in the face. To distract from that painfully obvious fact, an incredulous laugh bubbles at your lips and you kick one of your feet at his thighs. “Very funny, Koo. Can we change the show now if you’re not even watching it?”

“I’m not joking, Y/N.” The severity in his tone makes you sit up at once. When you turn to look at him, he flashes you a taunting smirk, though the devious sparkle in his eyes lets you know this seems to be anything but a joke to him. “I’m sure you’ve thought of me naked before.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot━” Okay, so maybe you have thought of him naked before but how is it your fault when you literally have seen him naked before, and he’s so unabashed around you? “Should I bring you to a hospital to get your head checked, or━?”

“Just hear me out━” Now, he pushes himself to the edge of the sofa. “Why are you here right now?”

“In life? Because I honestly have no clue━”

“No, I meant here. Getting drunk in my apartment on a Friday night instead of getting railed.”

“Okay, I didn’t ask to get called out like that,” You grumble stiffly. “And because you’re my best friend, and I like spending time with you.” It’s not entirely a lie, because you would much rather spend time with Jungkook than anyone else. But when you feel his eyes boring into you in a look of scrutiny, your lips form into a pout which you try to hide by puckering them. “Also because boys are stupid and Hoseok’s blind date stood me up. Again.”

The events from hours earlier resurface in your memory, in which you had spent all evening making yourself look pretty for a boy you had only talked to through text that your roommate had introduced you to, only to arrive to the restaurant you were supposed to be meeting at and waiting there for half an hour by yourself before the boy had sent you a message saying something along the lines of “something came up, hope we can reschedule,” filing it under one of the lamest excuses you’ve ever heard because it hardly even borders on a valid excuse. It’s what had ultimately made you storm into Jungkook’s apartment an hour ago, exclaiming aloud as a greeting with a simple yet scarily cheerful I hate men! because Jungkook knows all about your plights with finding a significant other (or even just someone decent enough to open your legs to), usually lamenting men’s inability to have any emotions. Even the ones who you think are respectable enough, who say they’re fine not having sex on the first date, usually tend to flee right after you finally let them in because sex, as you come to find, seems to be all that men care about.

Admittedly, Jungkook is not any different.

“But it’s not like you’re any better.”

This seems to personally offend Jungkook. He looks at you cynically. “Me?”

“Tell me why you’re here with me on a Friday night when you’re literally one of the hottest guys on campus,” You point out. “You can get any girl, and yet you somehow manage to ruin it every single time. Like with Eunha.”

Jungkook winces. The poor Eunha in question is a pretty girl from your chem class, whomst Jungkook had somehow managed to charm. From what you know, they had hooked up a handful of times before that fateful night in which Jungkook had abruptly broken things off with her. If you’re being honest, he’s not a total monster. The only thing that seems to scare him away is when a girl asks to cuddle him in the morning or talks about the prospective future together. He doesn’t want to hurt them, he told you once before, and finds it much easier to nip any potential relationship in the bud before it can get too far, too out of control.

“We literally only slept together three times anyway and we never went out,” Jungkook points out. “What’s the big deal?”

A roll of your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. “Yeah, it’s not her fault you’re scared of commitment.”

“Nu’uh,” The boy sulks. “I’m only scared of realistic things, like microwaves.”

A snort bubbles at your lips, and it’s frustrating how adorable he finds the simple action. Rather than entertain the thought of his irrational fear of kitchen appliances (because you’ve heard it all before, and you still can’t find where he was incited with the terror of an exploding microwave), you sit up.

“Jungkook, I don’t even like you like that.”

“I don’t like you like that either. That’s why it’s so perfect!” Jungkook says brightly. “Look, we know each other better than anyone else ever could. We’re already comfortable with each other. We don’t have to go through all that boring small talk. All I’m saying is we could give it a try. No relationship, no emotions, just sex.”

You consider the thought for a moment, weigh the pros and cons in your head.

The cons? He’s your best friend.

The pros? He’s your best friend, and he’s hot.

Truthfully, your slightly buzzed mind can find very little to dissuade you away from the inviting proposition and maybe that’s why you begin to entertain the idea. And, sure, you had just complained profusely about how men sometimes only used you for sex, but it’s not like you don’t have needs too. You just don’t have the gusto in you anymore to spend days on a boy who will only just leave you the moment you let him have sex with you. At least with Jungkook, he’s already offering you a blatant deal of sex only and you know you won’t have to worry about him breaking your heart; and he doesn’t have to worry about the dreaded dreamy post-sex cuddle talk of a future family and babies and a white picket-fence home. It’s a win-win for the both of you, really. Or maybe you’re just telling yourself that.

“How would we even start?” You ask finally. “I mean… Do you even find me attractive enough in that way?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook hardly bats a lash. He meets your stare, licks slowly at his lower lip. When he sees the cross look of disbelief scrunching at your face, he hastens to respond. “I’m not blind. You’re fucking drop dead gorgeous, Y/N.”

“But physically attractive? I’m no hot girl Eunha.”

“If I wanted Eunha, I’d be between her legs right now. Y/N, of course I think you’re attractive.” A gentle sliver of a smile dances upon his lips. He leans his head on the back of the couch, eyes fluttering over your appearance shortly. “I’ve always liked your lips, and your eyes. Think they’re beautiful.”

Suddenly, you’re flustered again. The room feels as if it’s getting increasingly warmer, yet you seem to want to bask in the feeling and attention a little longer. “That’s too sentimental.”

“It’s true though.”

“Well, you’re lucky I’ve always had a thing for idiots,” You jest playfully. “Jerks, too. Playboys who are too hot for their own good.”

“Ah, and I love it when you talk dirty to me.” A cheeky grin tugs at his lips as he clutches at his heart over his chest. “It’s a good thing I like it a little too much, knowing you’ll always keep me in check.”

But then the mirth seems to fade from your mind long enough for you to hum aloud pensively, “And I’ve always liked your eyes. I’ve never seen such big eyes before. Sometimes, if I look long enough, it’s like I can see the stars in them.”

As you’re speaking about them, his irises glisten magnificently. He bites at his lip now, as if to hide the way his soft smile turns sheepish. “I like your bum.”

“Really? I always worry it’s too flat.”

“Are you kidding? Your ass is a fucking god-send. It’s hard not to stare when you wear leggings sometimes,” Jungkook admits, earning a small giggle from you. “And I like your boobs. I’ve always wondered…” He trails off abruptly, shaking his head. He shoots you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”

“Well, maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

Silence saturates the room now, settling comfortably between the two of you. He wonders what you’re thinking, and you wonder if he can hear your heart hammering against your chest. Perhaps on any other day when you were of sound mind, you could find a plethora of reasons as to why sleeping with your best friend was a terrible idea. But being that you were slightly tipsy, and Jungkook isn’t far off, you can find not one fault, except for maybe how tragically hot Jungkook looks sitting across from you and how he’s never been yours, at least in that way. Would it be so wrong to try just once?

You shift then, pushing yourself to your knees if only so you can worm your way towards him before swinging one leg over his. You settle back on his lap, hands gripping his shoulders. He can feel your core press against the inside of his thigh, just where his dick is nestled and he has to bite back a moan. His eyes are wider than usual, as if believing the moment to be surreal, though something sultry threatens to darken them.

“Y/N…”

The excitement crackles through your veins like electricity. You’ve never been in such a compromising position with Jungkook before, and you wonder if it should be concerning just how much you’re enjoying it. It almost feels as if time slows down, every second dragging on, yet he can’t look away. His hands come to tug at your hoodie (that he’s almost positive was his once upon a time before you nicked it from his closet) and you meet him part way, replacing his efforts as you pull it up and off your body. Then, you’re sitting back on his lap in your full nude glory, chest bare and right in his face. He eyes the swell of your breasts, the perk of your nipples. Of course you’re not wearing anything beneath your hoodie ━ and, god, he loves it.

“Touch me?”

Your voice comes to him in an almost dream. You reach for his hand then, your palm soft around his knuckles and the tattoos that ink his skin. It’s the same hand of which he wears the other half to your pair of friendship bracelets in one of his favourite colours of red, decorated with little pink hearts. It came in a matching set of two (yours in your own favourite colour, currently on the wrist of the hand you’re using to guide Jungkook’s), cute little macrame braid ones with hearts woven into the design that you had pointed out one day while you were both at the mall and he had bought without any hesitation mostly as a joke but resulted in both of you wearing them on a daily basis.

Now, all he can do is continue watching you with bated breath as you guide his hand right where you both want him. He comes to cup the underside of one of your breasts, your hand over his pressing his fingers tighter together until you can feel some sort of pleasant pressure. And, just like that, something feral and needy seems to snap within him. His hand slithers from your grasp if only so he can flick his thumb across your nipple, mesmerized by the softness of it. He’s only ever seen you naked once before and it was fleeting. You were both drunk, skinny dipping in a lake with a handful of other friends, but it had been too dark to notice much else. But now? Now, he can see all of you and the sight strikes a chord right down to his dick.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Jungkook groans.

“Koo.” The cute little nickname you had given him sounds dirty now as it slips from your lips in a moan. “Too sentimental.”

But Jungkook isn’t listening because you really, really, really are so beautiful. He bows his head to your chest, catching one of your nipples in his mouth. He murmurs something against your chest that sounds akin to, “We can take things slow.”

“Slow…” Your head is spinning, but it’s a delightful sensation. Something hard pokes against your ass now, and the adrenaline only seems to build within you. It’s odd how everything feels so foreign ━ exploring his body and these newfound feelings like the uncharted territory it is ━ yet secure and safe at the same time. As if you know what to do next, where to touch next, how to move, your bodies almost fitting together like pieces to a puzzle. “Y-Yeah, I like that. Can I move?”

“Fuck, yes, please,” he growls. He’s much too busy nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin on your chest, teeth tugging at your nipple.

You hurry to obey, giving a small experimental swivel of your hips that almost immediately has the both of your inhaling a sharp breath of air. His dick strains against his sweatpants, the material doing very little in protecting him against you. Your core throbs as you rub yourself on him.

“Like this?” You rasp.

“Yeah, just like that.” Jungkook’s head rolls back onto the couch, his eyes squeezing shut and his blonde hair spilling into his eyes. He clenches his jaw, the nerves fluttering in the corner, as pure euphoria riddles his features. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything so sexy. “Fuck, we probably shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Yeah,” You agree, breathless. “Do you wanna stop?”

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

“Thank god.” The sigh of relief that emits from Jungkook startles even him but, in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t register how any of this could be a mistake. “Ah, shit━ Faster━”

“Mmm, Koo━” You whimper as you quicken your pace, the vulgar harbored thought of his dick in you thrilling you to no end.

“Fuuck, I’ve never heard you sound like this before. So needy, so desperate,” Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. And it’s all because of him, the way you’re feeling. He’s never wanted to hurry to please you faster, itching to tear you apart if he’ll get to hear those noises from you again and again. “I━”

He’s gonna cum, and he’s not even in your pussy. What’s gotten into him?

He presses you a little harsher against his dick, sitting up straighter so that his chest is pressed flush against yours. He leans forward, lips chasing after yours, before you pull back just enough sluggishly to press your finger to his mouth.

“Uh uh. No kissing,” You rasp.

The words process in Jungkook’s head, but the weight of them don’t seem to linger in his daze. He’s far too overwhelmed by you and the way you’re making him feel to even begin to try to decipher why you avoid his mouth and so, for now, he doesn’t care. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your throat. You clutch at his hair, tugging at the roots tight enough for him to moan.

“Nnngh, Jungkook━” You whine. “I’m gonna━ Oh, fuck, Koo━”

And then you’re unravelling, right in his very arms. He holds you close as you tremble and shake, rutting your hips sloppily against his to ride out your high, and Jungkook thinks he can definitely get used to this. The familiar burn forms in his stomach and, without even thinking of it, he comes in the confinements of his pants.

But in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t notice quite a lot of things. Neither do you.

So, maybe you could both find a hundred and one reasons why having sex with your best friend would surely cross some lines, but the thing with you and Jungkook (and what would eventually blossom into a hubristic relationship of sorts) is that it wasn’t just sex. You would always be comfortable around him, as he would be with you. And nothing could ever possibly get weird between the two of you ━ not when you had both made a promise to each other that it wouldn’t get in the way of your friendship.

Because ━ while, yeah, he’s hot and suffers from fuckboy tendencies from time-to-time and, aside from random late night hookups ━ he was still the same boy that would drag you out at three in the morning to drive to the next city over for a bowl of ramen, who would marathon shows as long as One Piece or Game of Thrones with you, watching as much as you can in one all-nighter; who would come to your dorm, no matter the time of day, the moment you said you were sick or suffering from cramps, piled high with your favourite snacks; who shared a repertoire of silly inside jokes with you that never made any sense to anyone but the both of you; who insisted you both wear friendship bracelets even in college. He would always be an angel to you, treat you well, because you meant that much to him.

A small thought in the back of Jungkook’s head wonders, above all else, if you were anyone different, would he have even bothered suggesting such a ludicrous idea, drunk or not?

Because he’s positive no one else could make him cum in his pants like a horny prepubescent teen ━ no one except for you.

“If we’re really gonna do this, we need to set some ground rules.”

Admittedly, neither you nor Jungkook knew what would happen after Jungkook’s proposition to you. Maybe you were expecting the two of you to pretend as if nothing had ever happened, or laugh it off as something so inconsequential that neither of you should bother worrying about it. Instead, the very next day, you find that you’re back in Jungkook’s dorm. Only this time, you’re in his bed, and he spent the past half hour sufficiently eating you out.

Now, you’ve had an epiphany in the form of Jungkook’s dick, and that is that it’s big.

You’ve seen it before on occasion ━ like when he streaked nude across campus as a dare or when he needed to use your shower because his apartment was under maintenance and he walked out on you in the living room ━ but this is clearly a very different circumstance. All red, swollen, angry tip wet and glistening with precum. You had to brace yourself as he pushed himself into you, cautiously and slowly, enjoying the way you stretch to fit around him. If you had a drunken excuse the night before for loving the thought of getting off with Jungkook, then you surely don’t have one now. It’s a shameless guilty pleasure, you think, that he’s at least indulging in.

“Rules,” Jungkook scoffs now. “You’re such a nerd. Fuck, you feel so fucking good━ You doing okay?”

More than. Your head lolls back against his pillow, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. “Mhm.”

“Want a minute?”

“Maybe.”

Jungkook pauses without any hesitation, gnawing on his lower lip as your walls clench around him so tightly he feels he might fall apart then and there. His hands are on your hips, thumbs rubbing comforting circles against your burning skin. A few deep breaths later and you’re probing Jungkook to move again. His hips rut into yours at a leisure pace, and he marvels for a moment at the way his dick disappears into your pussy, slick and wet with your own arousal. The thought of being in you ━ of finally feeling your walls wrapped around him, all wet and snug ━ is enough to make him bust then and there, but he refrains miraculously.

“Holy fuck,” You groan. “Why are you so big━”

Your voice cuts off into a delightful whimper, walls aching around him. Jungkook snorts, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. “Nothing sexier than hearing you stroke my ego.”

“Don’t let it get to your already big head,” You retort sluggishly.

“Big head!” he grumbles against your throat, lips brushing faintly against your skin and sending shivers down your spine. “Insult me some more. You know how it gets me going.”

“Oh my god, shut up. Where were we?”

“Rules.”

“Right,” You breathe in a sharp inhale of air as he grinds against your hips. “And rule number one is no kissing. That’s way too intimate.”

Jungkook quirks a brow. “How is kissing more intimate than having my dick in you?”

“It just is.” You refuse to tell him the truth. You poke your fingers at his sides, causing him to jerk against you. “Don’t question it.”

“Fine. Then no sentimental shit in general, like cuddling or pet names,” Jungkook retorts. “And no public displays of affection.”

“Okay,” You nod. “Fuck, Jungkook━”

“God, I love hearing you moan my name,” Jungkook grunts. He watches with fascination the way your face reacts at his every movement. “Too much?”

“No. Kinda hot,” You admit. An abrupt thought pops into your head that has you murmuring hazily, “Oh, and you can’t have sex with me to your sex playlist.”

Jungkook looks appalled. The sex playlist in question is one you’ve heard briefly before, if only because you’ve walked in on Jungkook and his flavour of the month a handful of times one too many times.

“So you’re telling me you don’t want to have the best orgasm of your life to The Weeknd or the Neighbourhood? WAP?” Jungkook asks, wriggling his brows suggestively. “Alanis Morissette?” You have less than half a second to register the 90s pop singer as out of place before Jungkook breaks out into song with a brief rendition of Head over Feet. “You’re my best friend, best friend with benefits━!”

Part of you knows he’s joking, but there’s still a small sliver of you that makes you gawk at him dubiously before dissolving into a fit of unabashed laughter. It rumbles against his chest, vibrates his dick in you. “You’re not serious, are you? That’s not actually in your sex playlist, is it?”

He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Guess you’ll never know now.”

Another roll of your eyes makes him snicker. He’s gotten used to your snide remarks, but he’ll gladly keep suffering under them if he gets to wipe that taunting smirk off your face each time with the way his dick makes you feel. You cling a little tighter to his shoulders and muse aloud, “So that’s it then?”

“Yeah━” Jungkook knows you’re referring to the rules and your plan, although it’s getting harder to focus on talking as he continues to grind against you. “And nothing has to change between us, even if we stop. We’re still just two best friends.”

“Yup.”

“Who have sex from time to time.”

“Yeah.”

He can’t help himself. He tries again. “Who might kiss.”

“Nope.” You’re smiling even despite the way you shoot him an aggravated stare first.

“We might?”

“No, we definitely won’t.”

Worth a shot, he thinks to himself. At least you really do always keep him in check.

After all, what are best friends for?

So, maybe a part of you thought the shift in your relationship with Jungkook wouldn’t last very long. A week at most, and maybe Hoseok would find you another pointless let down of a blind date to go on and Jungkook would get horny for some other girl ━ but it’s certainly been more than a week now, and you’ve had sex with him more than two times.

A third, and a fourth, if you’re being blatantly honest, and maybe a few more times after that but you don’t really remember what count you’re both on now which should probably be concerning. Days elapse into days, which turn to weeks, then months. Morning, afternoon, and night.

It’s not as if you hadn’t already spent almost every waking moment with Jungkook but now you had a reason to be at his apartment at any and all hours of the day and not solely for movie watching marathons. You’re positive he’s still having his occasional random flings, though you’re fortunate his commitment issues at least force him to go to their homes rather than his for the most part, so you never really have to witness half-naked girls stumbling out of his apartment just as you’re wandering in. He says it has something to do with how his bedroom is his sacred space, though you think it’s more like he wouldn’t want his hook ups discovering his Overwatch figurines or something (because, before Jungkook’s proposition, you’ve walked in on him once and a girl when they were entangled on the couch in his living room).

But you’ve noticed lately you’re getting too comfortable with your arrangement with Jungkook; too comfortable knowing he’ll be there at the end of a long day to greet you, to please you until you’re crying out his name. Sometimes he tells you about the girls he’s texting, or shows you a picture from a hot girl’s Instagram whose D.M.s he’s just slid into. And sometimes you’re left wondering how often he comes straight to you after hooking up with a random girl.

It shouldn’t matter to you, and you swear that it doesn’t.

Maybe you’re just overthinking things. Hoseok certainly seems to think so, but his judgement wasn’t much to go by.

Because, lately, Hoseok has been encouraging you more and more to give Yukhei (the blind date Hoseok had initially set you up with when you found yourself at Jungkook’s) another chance for two reasons: 1) “Yukhei’s a nice boy,” he had cheerfully reminded you, “he’ll treat you well,” and 2) “Stop fucking your best friend. It’s morally wrong.”

There were many things wrong with his statement, from the fact that you didn’t exactly consider standing up a date as “nice” and that you were also still begrudgingly lamenting the way Hoseok had discovered your recent fling with Jungkook (although, you weren’t being very inconspicuous, having shower sex with Jungkook early one morning when you were certain Hoseok would be spending the day at his fiance’s home instead of yours).

But then you meet Yukhei and you realize that, oh crap, he’s cute. And he’s nice.

As it turns out, after bumping into him one day when you’re with Hoseok lounging on the quad of your campus and he comes bounding over to return a textbook Hoseok had lent him for a specific class, Yukhei is so easily charming. He also gives a pretty valid excuse for flaking on your date, proving that he had to present his dissertation, making you clearly aware that he’s cute, nice, and smart. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t see the appeal, yet his curiosity and intrigue seems to get the best of him.

“So that was your blind date?” Jungkook asks after grabbing your attention on the quad and stealing you away from Hoseok and Yukhei. “Yukhei?”

“You know him?”

“Seen him around,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ve never really talked to him. But him? You’re not telling me you’re actually interested in him, are you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” You’re truly just as clueless about your feelings towards Yukhei as Jungkook seems to be. “What’s so wrong about him?”

“He’s━” Jungkook stops. He shakes his head. “Heard he’s got a small dick anyway.”

You shoot the boy a wary look, only to find him grinning deviously at himself. “Maybe he just wants to be friends.”

At this, Jungkook lets out a scoffing sound that borders on disbelieving laughter. “No, I definitely think he wants to have sex with you in his Toyota Camry, Y/N, but what do I know?”

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

“No, why would I be jealous?”

You can’t quite tell if he’s angry or not but, then again, why would he be? As far as either of you are concerned, there’s nothing to be jealous of.

So then why does it feel like he’s simply just telling himself that?

“Are you seriously on your phone right now?”

Jungkook asks this from somewhere behind you a handful of days later, a little peeved but most likely because your jarring 8:00 a.m. alarm had roused the both of you violently awake. In his defense, Jungkook is not a morning person.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You’re currently sprawled out on your hands and knees on his bed, phone still in your grasp after having plucked it off the nightstand in haste. Your clothes are scattered across the floor of his room, remnant clues of the night before when he had beckoned you over after hours, and your body is covered in nothing but hickeys and an unbuttoned blue flannel belonging to Jungkook that you had chucked on last night that does nothing in covering up the swell of your breasts which Jungkook is now currently eyeing. “Am I not giving you enough attention? Were you expecting cuddles or something? Thought that wasn’t in the rules.”

“No,” Jungkook huffs. He runs a hand through his long messy hair in an attempt to fix it; he ultimately gives up taming his locks, instead using the hair tie around his wrist to tie his hair back into a cute yet sexy little ponytail. As he does so, you notice the red friendship bracelet around his wrist and smile smally. “But my dick could use some cuddles. Preferably with your mouth, but it will also gladly accept your hand.”

Jungkook may not be a morning person but, as you’ve come to realize, his dick certainly is.

It’s painfully obvious too, his hardened length straining against the gray sweatpants he had thrown on at some point. And, god, did he have to wear those? It left little to the imagination, the outline of his length teasing you just enough.

“I should get going,” You say. “I have a test coming up. There’s supposed to be a review session today in class, and I don’t want to miss it.”

“Well, you don’t seem like you’re in a rush since you’re still on your phone,” Jungkook points out. “Who are you texting anyway? Yukhei?”

“Anger is an emotion,” You rebuke casually. “So is jealousy.”

Jungkook feigns a look of mock hurt. “I’m not angry or jealous! I’m needy.”

Still, Jungkook reaches out to swiftly pluck your phone from your hands.

“Jungkook━!”

He’s pressed up against your back in an instant, his dick hard against your ass, and he doesn’t move very far even when you twist in your spot in an attempt to grab your phone back. You don’t, and instead you end up on your back with him on his side, propped up on his elbow. You miss when he casts a swift gaze down at your phone, only to see that Yukhei’s chat messages are indeed open, and something seems to gnaw terribly at his gut before he tosses your phone to the side. He’s looking at you now with those big beautiful eyes of his, and you hate it.

“Please?” he beckons. He ruts his hips impatiently but slowly against your leg. He drops his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck, lips dangerously close to brushing against your flesh but he refrains somehow. “M’so hard right now, could probably bust the moment you touch me.”

The thought is tempting, having a helpless Jungkook cumming in your hands. The sight alone has quickly become your favourite thing, helping the frustrated boy get off. Besides, you’re certain you could ask Hoseok for the review notes.

Fuck it, you cave.

You fidget until you’ve pressed him back against the bed and have clambered on top of him, wiggling your way down to fit between his legs. Jungkook is watching you now with a half-asleep expression, though his teeth sink into his lower lip as you pull at his sweatpants until they’re down at his thighs, letting his swollen dick spring free.

“You know━” You hum. You reach out to grab at the base of his cock. “Yukhei wants to hang out, and Hoseok keeps telling me to give it a shot.”

That much is true. Part of you wants to say yes, if only because Yukhei seems promising enough, but the thought alone is enough for you to feel as if you’ve done something horribly wrong to Jungkook.

“Oh.” The word eclipses Jungkook’s mouth in a shallow breath of air. Then, your mouth wraps around the puffy head of his dick, shining with leaking precum that you swallow back, and Jungkook’s reaction is immediate. Head thrown back, face scrunching together, muscles in his toned abdomen flexing as he seizes and grunts aloud. “Oh, fuck━ Well… Are you gonna?”

Jungkook asks the last question with much difficulty, and a part of him thinks it doesn’t all have to do with how you’re making him feel.

“Dunno.” You snort around his dick, and he marvels at how adorable such a lewd action can seem.

You decide to focus on sucking him off because it truly is a sexy sight to see, letting the topic of Yukhei drop. Jungkook certainly doesn’t mind. As you swirl your tongue around his tip and reach up with your free hand to fondle at his balls, his long hair falls into his lashes but he still tries to find you past his wild locks, hooded eyes gazing down at you.

“Ah, shit━” Jungkook hisses delightfully, hips jerking forward instinctively into your mouth. The faintest hints of a drowsy smirk tug at his lips. “Fuck, yes, just like that.”

Yeah, you think to yourself then, you’re definitely going to ride him later. Screw going to class.

From: Jungkook Sent: 1:05 a.m.

bro i noticed u werent wearing our friendship bracelet while u were giving me head earlier. is everything ok??

You wake in the morning to a single text from Jungkook ━ and one you had not been expecting.

That’s not to say that getting the occasional text message from Jungkook at any and all hours of the day was abnormal, but the extent of his messages sent anywhere past midnight usually always range from something more coherent in the form of “what would u do if i was there rn?” to something exuding typical lazy Jungkook manner with a simple “dtf?” or “send noods lol” to something even more provocatively cryptic such as the eggplant and splashing water (or, as far as Jungkook is concerned, something else entirely) emojis and nothing else, left open for your own interpretation that typically, usually, without a doubt, results in you in his bed and his dick in you. But this seems to be something else entirely.

Unfortunately, Jungkook’s text isn’t the only concern of yours.

Hoseok has spent the better part of the morning giving you a lecture on why having sex with your best friend is bad. He seems so passionate about the topic that you’re certain he would have pulled out a powerpoint at any moment, each slide ending in a picture of Yukhei and why you should maybe try fucking him instead, if you entertained the idea a little longer. Hoseok claims it’s just a harmless date. Yukhei might be a nice boy, but you don’t know how you feel about him. You don’t want to lead him on, and a scary thought points out the fact that maybe, while Yukhei is a nice boy, he isn’t Jungkook.

“I don’t get why you don’t just give Yukhei a chance━” Hoseok is saying now, sat on the couch in your shared apartment with him. “It’s not like you have to marry him. I don’t think one date will hurt━ Aaand, you’re not even listening to me anymore, are you?”

The sheepish look on your face is enough of an answer for him. You’ve been anxiously eyeing your phone and the text Jungkook had sent you last that you’ve yet to respond to, even despite being awake for more than a few hours now.

“Yes, I am listening,” You say dismissively. “Something about how one date won’t hurt, but that’s what you said when Yoongi asked you out, and you’re literally engaged now.”

The glistening metallic ring on Hoseok’s finger is evidence enough. The boy looks down at it as if seeing it for the first time, purses his lips, and then nods in agreement. “Okay, yeah, maybe you’re right. But you’re holding out for Jungkook and for what? He’s hot, yeah, and he’s your best friend, sure, but at the end of the day he’s still just a horny male who wants to stick his dick in anything that moves.”

“Hoseok.” Your grumbling sigh is interrupted by the motion of your phone vibrating against your thigh once more. You peek at the screen fleetingly to see a new text.

From: Jungkook Sent: 2:35 p.m.

send n00ds?

miss ur tits :(

Typical Jungkook.

The text from the night before is all but seemingly forgotten from his mind, and you can’t quite tell if you’re devastated or relieved. You don’t have very long to discern which emotion you’re feeling when Hoseok snatches your phone to look at what’s gotten your attention before exclaiming suddenly, “Aha! See! What did I say?”

“It’s not like that,” You wave Hoseok off. “Jungkook treats me well. He respects me, and I’m comfortable with him.”

“And how long until whatever this is━” He gestures vaguely to your phone as if to point out your relationship with Jungkook, “has to end? Do you really think a pinky promise is going to make sure your friendship with him isn’t totally ruined? I mean, how can you continue being casual friends with someone, see them dating someone else, when they’ve had their dick in you?”

You know it makes sense. Realistically, you either stop sleeping with each other or it potentially develops into something more. But in both circumstances, what were the chances that either of you didn’t get your heart broken? Maybe a part of you was apprehensive of Jungkook finding the “right” person for him one day that has him ending things with you, and while you swear you’d be happy for him, relationships sometimes have a way of distracting people from those already around them. Were you prepared to have someone take him away from you, platonically and whatever it is else that you have with him? Did you really think you could just keep being friends with him, as if nothing ever occurred between you two?

You don’t think Jungkook is bothered worrying about the state of your friendship with him, much less overthinking it like you seem to be. It shouldn’t be a big deal ━ yet why was there still that terrible nagging voice in the back of your mind? Whether or not Hoseok is right, you don’t want to find out. You don’t have feelings for Jungkook anyway.

But your ability to bend at his every will is certainly interesting.

You grab your phone before Hoseok can do any serious damage like unlocking it and responding to Jungkook, clutching it to your chest as you start to cross the living room. The other boy looks at you in bewilderment. “Where are you going now?”

“Where does it look?” You call over your shoulder just before you disappear into the bathroom, and Hoseok deduces all at once that you’re truly a lost cause. “I need to send him a picture of my boobs.”

“He’s totally into you, Y/N.”

Admittedly, there were many mundane but essentially weird things you’ve talked to Jungkook about while having sex. You’ve had many heated debates about everything under the sun from whether or not pineapple on pizza should be illegal to top five betrayals in either movies or animes, to passionate grand philosophical discussions about what exists outside of the universe.

It’s not as if you had been planning on talking about Yukhei to Jungkook when he had invited you over to his apartment late at night after sending your risqué boob picture to him but, like many things in your friendship with Jungkook, it sort of just happened. He had asked you how your day was and you had decided to broach the topic experimentally, though you think deep down you’re doing it on purpose to see if he’d react in any way. What started with you mentioning Hoseok’s adamance and you sort of genuinely asking Jungkook for advice on Yukhei somehow evolved into Jungkook interrogating you on whether or not you’ve hung out with him yet.

“Jungkook. You’re getting off topic,” You admonish him now, as if your own choice of topic is any better when his dick is currently in you.

Jungkook is wedged between your thighs smushed up against your chest, large palms holding you on your ribcage in place beneath him. He’s a comfortable heavy draped over top of you, cock stretching you wide. You can feel his heart hammering against yours and he’s slick with sweat, golden hair clinging to his forehead and in his pretty eyes. You resist the urge to reach out and brush the messy locks away but, again, how would that be any less intimate of an action than what you’re already doing? Another line uncrossed, you suppose.

“How am I off topic?” Jungkook retorts. “You literally just said you can’t tell if he’s into you but he dropped by when you were done class and bought you lunch. You don’t just do that for a girl you don’t care that much about.”

“You buy me lunch, like, every day,” You point out.

“Because you’re my best friend. Of course I care about you,” Jungkook says.

“Ah, Jungkook━” You curse suddenly, grabbing his attention when you shift your weight beneath him. “You’re crushing me. Why’d you stop moving?”

He doesn’t have an answer, if only because he hadn’t even realized he’d stop moving in the first place. Without hesitation, he continues leisurely rutting his hips against yours, grabbing at one of your legs to hook it around his waist. This new angle lets you feel even more of him as he sinks further into you, if that was even still possible, reaching so far into you that you swear it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. Your head lolls back against the pillows, pure euphoria contorting your face so much so to the point that it distracts you entirely from the distant look glazing over Jungkook’s eyes.

“Yukhei definitely wants to bang,” he huffs under his breath.

At once, an exasperated groan fills his ears.

“I can’t believe we’re seriously having this conversation right now,” You roll your eyes, fingers prodding at his sides. “I don’t wanna talk about Yukhei potentially wanting to have sex with me.”

Jungkook’s glad you said it, at least. Though now he’s watching you with hooded eyes as he thrusts into you a little harder, maybe a little intentionally. His indulgent gaze droops to your breasts, admiring the way they bounce beneath him each time his hips make contact with yours. He thinks back earlier in the day to the picture you had sent him which, really, had sparked the mood for the rest of the night.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whines abruptly. His eyes screw shut and brows furrow together as your walls clench around him. He drops his head to bury his face in your chest, lips momentarily wrapping around one of your nipples as he sucks harshly at the soft flesh. When he speaks next, forehead still resting against your collarbones, his voice is a breathless croak, “Well, do you like him?”

“No,” You moan. “Maybe━ Fuck, Koo━ I don’t know.”

“He’s gonna be at that party Tae’s throwing, isn’t he?” Jungkook tries to focus, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to do so when he’s inching closer and closer to his high. “Shit, ah, Y/N━ Why don’t you try talking to him or something? See how the night goes?”

“He’s nice but I don’t think he’s the one for me,” You admit sheepishly. “I think I’m just gonna end things while I still can, with as little harm as possible.”

“Well, glad that’s settled,” Jungkook mumbles. “Can we please stop talking about Yukhei now?”

You seem to miss the way he clings to you a little tighter, hands flying down to grip at your hips, nails digging crescent moon shapes into your skin. He snaps his hips into yours a little faster this time, your pussy throbbing around him.

“Nngh, Jungkook━”

Your hands fumble to grip at his hair, tugging tightly at the roots and earning a delightful hiss from the boy. Your own mouth drops open in a silent moan and it’s a wonder he doesn’t combust at just how sexy the sight is. He hates how his eyes stay trained on the shape of your lips, the soft plumpness of them. He’s felt them wrapped around his dick plenty of times before but he concedes that it’s probably hardly anywhere near to how it would feel to kiss you. Like actually kiss you, tongue and all.

God, what’d he give just to smother your lips with his.

And, god, he hopes you never find out. He’s positive that thought is far more scandalous alone than anything you’ve ever done together.

You’re writhing beneath him now, hips jutting forward desperately to meet his. “I’m gonna cum, Jungkook━”

“Fuck, yes,” Jungkook growls. “Wanna feel you cream around my cock so bad. Come on, baby━”

In the heat of the moment, you seem to miss the pet name that slurs off his tongue and the sentiment in it. A few more jolting slams of his hips and you’re tumbling over the edge. He has to sputter for air when he feels your pussy wrapping so tightly around him, stuttering in his pace above you if only to watch as you unravel beneath him. Hooded dark eyes glazed over in that perfect fucked out expression he loves so much, teeth biting at your lower lip so hard he wonders if it’ll bruise in the morning.

A sudden thought pops into his head when you’ve settled enough, amongst the blinding pure white of bliss that clouds his thoughts. “Did you get my text by the way? The one I sent last night?”

You gasp for air. The bracelet on your wrist itches at the mention of it, and you’re fortunate you decided to wear it that afternoon before coming to Jungkook’s. “Y-Yeah━”

“Well…?”

“Everything’s fine,” You say this as dismissively as you can. Your core is still vibrating after the harsh impact of your orgasm paired with Jungkook’s swollen length still in you. “I just… I was taking a shower and didn’t want to get it wet. I forgot to put it back on in the morning.”

That’s a lie. You had mostly taken it off as part of an experiment, though it hasn’t answered much. At least Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize that.

“Oh,” Jungkook breathes. A beat of silence passes, before he deadpans cockily, “Wait, you were taking a shower and I wasn’t invited?”

“Oh my god, shut up━” Maybe if he hadn’t just currently driven you to nirvana and back, you’d notice the way the sloppy grin on his face is a simple taunt. But you’re much too distracted to care. Instead, you use your leg that’s still hooked around his waist to gently push and roll him onto his back so that you can straddle his hips. His eyes sparkle mischievously as he watches you waste no time in hurrying to grind against him at an agonizingly steady pace that makes his head spin. “You’re ruining the moment. I’m trying to make you cum.”

A devious cackle rumbles from his chest, albeit a little contented at the same time. Yeah, he definitely likes the sound of that. “Well then, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

It’s only then that his question comes back into your mind. If he felt the need to ask you again about the bracelet, maybe that meant something after all. At the very least, it means he hadn’t forgotten about it altogether. On the other hand, you wonder how often he had spent thinking, or over-thinking, the issue in the past twenty-four hours, if at all.

Was it wrong to feel some semblance of joy over that potential fact? Probably.

That doesn’t seem to bother you much this time. Not when he’s gazing up at you as if you’re some divine sexy goddess, all his to enjoy. You can’t help yourself; you reach down to brush the sweaty hair from his eyes, perhaps all too gentle of an action for best friends.

And he smiles, maybe a little too softly and maybe a little too ardently if you look close enough.

He smiles.

The thing about your supposed “rules” with your relationship with Jungkook is that there might be a few loose ends that neither you nor Jungkook pay much attention to sometimes.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Mostly, the “no public displays of affection” clause is easily disregardable. It’s typically when you’re too drunk to remember it and a bit needy, craving one another’s touch, but those around you never truly seem to care or even notice because, if you’re lucky, they’re equally as smashed. Sometimes the “no cuddles” clause blurs into a gray area where it’s simply just you and Jungkook post-sex, sprawled out in his bed, not necessarily wrapped up in one another’s arms and cooing sweet nothings to one another but giggling at nothing in particular except one another as you bask in each other’s company and nothing more. You suppose some rules are meant to be broken.

For the most part, Jungkook never seems to question the no kissing rule you were so adamant in insisting. Not until one night in which you’re left wondering where things go so drastically wrong. It starts off as normally as any other day with you and Jungkook can, spent in his apartment binge watching movies. You hadn’t expected that night to switch as suddenly as it does when Jungkook shoots you a text earlier in the day asking if you want to come to his for a night of casual drinking as simply “best friends.” But, as always, one thing seems to lead to another, and you can’t get enough of Jungkook. Maybe it’s in the way he holds you a little tighter, the way he tugs you onto his lap on the sofa in his living room, the way he grips your thighs with a certain type of insatiable desire.

“You know…” he hums. “You drive me insane. In, like, the best way possible.”

Part of you realizes his actions even without him seeming to, and the drunken smile on your face remaining frozen in place, a little dumbfounded. “Jungkook…”

“When I’m with you…” He lifts his stare to look at you, but you have nothing to say. Neither does he. Instead, you’re left grinning at one another and suddenly your face is warm. He leans towards you, his nose nuzzling against the side of your throat. Your hands stay threaded in his hair now, and he swears he feels you secure your grip as if to pull him closer.

You can feel his lips brush faintly against your skin, grazing along your neck to the underside of your jaw. Up, up, up, until━

It’s just as his mouth meets with the corner of yours that you register what he’s doing, even in your clouded state. You turn your head just in time, and he comes to an immediate halt, his lips barely making contact with your cheek instead before he pulls away. He doesn’t move very far but you also don’t push him away just yet. Instead, you shift your head to look at him, still inches apart from him.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He can’t quite tell if you’re appalled or not, an empty expression staring back at him.

“I━ You━” He fumbles over his words, squeezes his eyes shut. He blames it on the alcohol even though his head is swimming with thoughts that seem to only concern you. But then a fierceness seems to stir within him, one that makes his jaw clench as he meets your stunned stare. The question rolls off his tongue without meaning to. “Is this about Yukhei?”

“What?”

“Is that why you weren’t wearing our bracelet the other day?”

The question is so ridiculous, you have to laugh. “What are you going on about?”

But Jungkook doesn’t see what’s so funny and so he tries again, his persistence taking hold. “Is that why you won’t ever let me kiss you?”

You blink. Then, you’re shaking your head at him. Exasperation hangs heavy in your words, shaping in the form of a tired scoff. “You’re not serious.”

You’ve slithered off of his lap before he can even think to stop you ━ but if he had, would you have even stayed? You’re mad, but he doesn’t know why. “No, I wanna know. Because if what we have is already so meaningless, what makes a kiss any different?”

“Jungkook…”

“So I wanna know,” he says, brows unconsciously knitting together. His gaze is searching yours desperately, as if begging for an answer he’ll want to hear. But he knows he’s being an idiot, a small sober part in him makes him realize that. “Humour me. Have you had sex with him yet?”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe that’s what you’re on about.” Suddenly, you’re frowning. Your hardened stare meets the boy’s and the irritation that scrunches at your face makes him wince, but it’s too late for him to take back the damage that he’s done. “Yeah, Jungkook, we fucked in his stupid Toyota that you hate so much and he choked me and I liked it. He did all sorts of dirty things to me. Is that what you want to hear?” The sardonic tone hisses at his ears, but he bites back his words, the sober part in him doing some decent good by shushing him. “No, Jungkook, we didn’t fuck. We haven’t even gone on a date, and I don’t even know if I want to, and you think I’m throwing myself at him.”

“But you wanna.”

“You’re being an idiot,” You admonish. “I’m going home. Talk to me when you’re sober.”

He has just enough time to watch you turn on your heel, march towards his door, when he scrambles to his feet. The weight of his words and actions finally seem to dawn on him, hitting him harshly in the face and in the heart.

“Fuck, wait! Wait━” he gasps.

He chases after you, hand reaching out to press his palm against the door before you can shimmy it open. He’s fortunate when you turn to look at him, though your arms are folded impatiently over your chest.

“You’re right. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad,” he promises earnestly. Then, he lets out a frustrated groan. “I just… What if we… Shit, what if we stop for right now? Y’know… Hooking up. Whatever this is.”

He gestures vaguely between the two of you with his hands, a wearied look plastering his face.

You hate to admit how his words seem to affect you. They bite at the air, leave you breathless as you gawk at him, but the harsh realization of it all is that you were never his to have and he was never yours. Hoseok had been right when he said these things were bound to come to an end ━ so why did it seem to hurt you so much?

A beat of prolonged silence passes between the two of you. Jungkook runs a hand through his chaotic blonde hair, digging the heel of his palm into his temple as if to rid himself of a headache he’s no doubt sporting. Maybe you’re waiting for a better explanation, but he gives none, and you don’t feel as if you have the right to ask why. He’s not your boyfriend, for god’s sake. It’s not like he’s breaking your heart.

Instead, you take a deep breath and say, “Okay.”

“Okay.” It’s all that he says in return.

So then why does it feel like he is?

When Jungkook had promised that if your fling with him ended you would go back to being untainted best friends, he was apparently lying.

A part of you can’t believe the sheer nerve of him to ghost you in his traditional fuckboy ways, and yet he does. You suppose not entirely, at the very least. Part of it ends up with you being even more vexed by his sudden shift in emotion, and the tangible tension that rises between the two of you should have been dealt with properly, yet neither of you do anything about it, leaving your friendship stagnant and stale for a week. After all, how are you really supposed to go back to “just friends” when you’ve seen his dick one too many times?

You refrain from telling Hoseok, if only so you don’t have to hear him tell you he told you so ━ but you also decide to give Yukhei that one chance, and so you think Hoseok wouldn’t mind so much anyway.

Admittedly, when Yukhei asks to hang with you at Taehyung’s eventual party, you aren’t entirely too keen, but you accept it if only because you heard Jungkook will be there too. For the majority of the night, you don’t see the boy, and you spend the hours cozying up with Yukhei in a conversation that dulls you. As it would appear, it seems to bore Yukhei too, but you only notice that when he starts touching you on your waist and the small of your back. There’s a moment where he leans his head close enough to yours that you realize he’s trying to kiss you, resulting in an awkward encounter in which you push him away, palms on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. The answer is obvious enough to you, but you don’t think you should tell him for his own dignity. That, instead, all you can imagine is Jungkook in his place. “Should we get out of here?”

“Y/N. Can I talk to you?”

You’re both fortunate yet horrified when you hear Jungkook’s voice. He’s standing just behind you, his own stare devoid of any emotion, though his brows furrow and his jaw clenches in a signature Jungkook manner that you know means he’s pissed. He hardly acknowledges Yukhei, nodding in his general direction. You don’t remember if you leave Yukhei there or if he leaves, or if Jungkook even gives a poor attempt of an excuse to the boy, but you’ve not so much as uttered a single word or let out an exhalation of air, when Jungkook ultimately pulls you off to the side where it’s just you and him once more.

“I’m not sucking your dick in Tae’s grimy bathroom, if that’s what you want,” You scowl once Yukhei is out of earshot. “You’ve lost the privilege that is my mouth.”

“That’s not━” Jungkook shakes his head, exasperated. “That’s not what I want. I just━ I’ll take you home. Please?”

You know the offer is much more than him simply walking you the route to your dorm, which you already know like the back of your hand. Yet, you don’t argue. Truthfully, it’s a relief when Jungkook lugs you out of the party. The entire venture back to your apartment is treacherous, in the way that you’re left sobering up enough to the point that your dizzying thoughts become more coherent. Hoseok is gone for the weekend at least, spending the days with his fiance, so you don’t have to worry about humiliating yourself in front of your roommate when it comes to Jungkook.

You’ve barely made it through your front door when you’re grumbling aloud, “What do you want, Jungkook?”

“I wanna talk,” he says firmly. “About us. About Yukhei.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.” But that’s a lie. Talking to Jungkook, even despite masquerading your annoyance for him, is a blessing in disguise. You’ve missed the idiot, and hearing his voice. “Besides, you told me to give him a chance.”

“And you said you didn’t want to.”

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Yeah, you sure seemed like you loved it when he was trying to shove his tongue down your throat,” Jungkook retorts bitterly. “C’mon, Y/N. We both know that’s a lie.”

“You know, you’ve been a real dick lately.”

A sliver of a smirk tugs at Jungkook’s face. “I thought you love dick.”

Clearly, his poor attempt at a joke doesn’t land well with you. “Why do you even care so much if Yukhei and I get together? Stop acting so high and mighty and moral, Jungkook. It’s not like you’re some virgin saint. How many times have I heard you talk about all those girls you’ve fucked? And what was I? Just another notch in your belt this whole time?”

“What?” Jungkook gasps now, as if disbelieving you would ever think such a thing. “No! You’re not just another notch. I would never even think about you that way. And I haven’t had sex with anyone else but you this whole time and I easily could have.”

“Wow! Such a martyr,” You remark dryly. When you speak next, you meet his stare with your own crestfallen gaze. “I just want my best friend back.” Your words hurt him more than you think, but he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. “You’re the one who tried to kiss me, then suggested we stop whatever it is we’re doing━”

Jungkook flinches. “I know.”

“Then you ignore me for days even though you promised nothing would change━”

“I know,” he says desperately. He closes the distance between the two of you, yearning to reach out and touch you. Instead, he clamps his eyes shut, trying with all his might to focus when the room feels like it’s spinning.

“And then you get mad when Yukhei tries to make a move. It’s like you’re jealous or something!”

“I am.” He can’t take it anymore. The words tumble from his lips in a rush that he hardly bothers to bite back.

“Why?”

“Because━ Because━” He struggles to form his thoughts into words, stumbling over his sentence. Fuck, he’s never like this. Even you can tell. He grits his teeth next. “I lean in to kiss you and you look at me as if I’m out of my mind. I just don’t get it. You don’t want me to kiss you but you let me put my dick in your ass.”

The taut line of your lip quivers as you break. “That was one time and you didn’t even get all the way in!”

“Y/N.” Jungkook hums now. He’s gazing at you a little softly, reaching out to place his hands on your waist. “Look, I know I’ve been an idiot. But lately, when I touch you, I fucking feel so alive and the thought of Yukhei doing anything with you when it isn’t me, who should be with you, makes me want to vomit. And when I wake up in the morning alone, I only want you next to me. And I can’t be the only one feeling that way. If I am, tell me. Right now. Please. I just wanna know why you won’t ever let me kiss you, but you let me do all sorts of things with you. Am I really that repulsive?”

Another moment of silence stifles the room. Jungkook is so close to you now, you can’t help yourself. You reach up to tug at the collar of his shirt, fingers twisting in the material as you lean your forehead out of frustration against his shoulder and he instinctively lets his arms slither around your waist, holding you to him. Then━

“No.”

“What?”

“I only made the rule because I don’t want you to kiss me unless you mean it,” You murmur into his chest. “Like really, really mean it. Like I’m more than just a notch in your belt. Because I want to kiss you so badly, and I’m already in love with you but then I’ll really be in love with you and I don’t want to get my heart broken.”

The anticipation kills you, awaiting his response. You refuse to lift your head, until you hear him grumble, “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Me?”

The retort is filled with your typical jestering hostility as you finally look at him. But just as you do so, Jungkook’s reaching out to grasp at your face, rough hands all soft and gentle as they cradle your cheeks, guiding you towards him and smoothing his lips over yours until you melt like putty in his hands.

Kissing Jungkook, you deduce at once, is not at all how you imagined it.

It’s everything and more. You’ve felt his mouth on you before but in much different circumstances. Between your legs, on your throat, down past the valley of your breasts ━ and each kiss then had been feral, sloppy, rough. Now, it’s sweet and tender, the feeling of his lips as soft as how he makes your heart feel. And the butterflies━ god, the butterflies.

Impatient hands tug and pull at one another until you’ve both stumbled into your room and onto your bed. He’s clambered over top of you, lips struggling to not part throughout the whole ordeal, until he’s wedged himself between your thighs.

Only then does Jungkook part from you just enough in the next moment, lips brushing against yours, as he whispers ardently, “I mean it.”

Then he’s kissing the corner of your lips down to the underside of your jaw, his mouth grazing along your skin in a feathery touch. His hands help you shed your shirt, and the bra underneath. “I mean it when I kiss you here.”

Then he drops his head to your neck, kissing at the base of your throat, before nipping at it lightly. “And here.”

Your hands come to thread in his hair, tugging at the roots. He burrows his face lastly in your chest, snatching the nipple of one of your breasts between his teeth. “Here…”

You’re so soft and supple beneath his hands, all his to love and explore.

“I want you, all of you,” he mumbles. “Only you.”

“Oh, Koo…”

A pretty moan tumbles from your mouth, and he could nearly cry. He had surely thought you were far past the point of enraged, far past the point of pensive words shaped in a heartfelt apology to bring you back to him. But then hearing you rasp his name ━ the little cute nickname that only you call him ━ makes him so goddamn remorseful.

He smothers your lips with his once more, groaning into your mouth. “I’m such a fucking dick. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” You whine.

“I’m sorry,” he laments. He bites at your lower lip, suckling against it. “Please let me make it up to you.”

“You already have.”

“But I’ve been such a shitty friend,” he groans. It’s hard to focus when he’s pressing his hips against yours, the forming bulge in his pants straining against the inside of your thigh. “I should’ve known when to stop. I shouldn’t have even suggested the whole thing in the first place, because then I wouldn’t have messed us all up.”

“Jungkook,” Your grip tightens in his hair. “Jungkook━ I want you so bad. Just wanna be yours.”

“Yeah?” His breath is warm as it fans against your neck. You rub your core eagerly against him, throbbing pussy so close to making contact with his dick.

“Yeah,” You mewl.

“What do you want from me?”

“You. Wanna feel your dick in me, please,” Your fingers tug at the top of his jeans, prodding at the muscles on his abdomen. “In my mouth. Can make you feel better, Koo, I promise. Just wanna be your good girl.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”

He lets you push him until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. Your limbs entangle with his as you shed the rest of your clothes, your own hands wandering up and down the front of his body after he’s tossed his shirt onto the floor. Then he watches as you shimmy your way down his body. You’re so zealous in pleasing him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick, head angry and red, dribbling pearly beads of precum down the shaft and over the bulging vein that lines it. You run your thumb over the tip and down, spreading the sticky fluid over him. He grunts in response, nearly jolting at your touch, as his head drops back against his shoulders.

“Oh, fuck,” he growls.

You pump him slowly, taking you time as your closed fist glides up and down his length. He shudders each time your hand reaches the base, and becomes so carried away with your leisure teasing that his eyes are screwed shut and misses the way you dip down to kiss at the tip of his cock. His eyes immediately flutter open, a flustered expression painting his face. You lap again at the head, saltiness coating your tongue, and you let out a simpering moan that has him quivering. And when you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock, sinking down along his length, he swears he’s about to fall apart. Your eyes flicker upward to meet him and the moment they lock, so sexy and dark, he has to look away for fear of busting right then and there. He reclines back against the bed once more, his hand flying out to grab at your hair.

“You’re so good to me, baby,” he rasps.

He can feel the curve of your lips against his cock as you suck him off. You do so well, too. Puffing your cheeks out, taking as much of him as you can until it feels as if he’s hitting the back of your throat. Then, you’ll suck at the tip of his cock, tongue swirling rapidly around, as your fist rubs his shaft. It’s a beautiful mix, one that inches him closer and closer to his high, and each time you switch he has to hold it together to not let go so soon. He wants to enjoy it, needs to bask in it. Your pretty mouth doing such sinful things, making him feel as if he were in heaven.

“Shit━” His hips jut forward to meet with your mouth, accidentally hitting the back of your throat without warning. You gag a little, but don’t pull away, and when he apologizes to you hastily, you only moan in response. A thought pops into his head that has him beckon aloud, “Will you be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth? Huh, baby?”

You hum in approval, eyes shimmering with glee.

So, he plants both hands in your hair, grabs at the sides of your head, and as you hollow out your cheeks, he bucks into your mouth. He does it again and again, listening to your crescendoing mewls of delight, forming a sticky mess of drool and cum that spills onto your chin.

“God, you’re so good,” Jungkook grunts. He’s a complete wreck, eyes screwing shut, blonde tresses spilling into his lashes. The muscles in his abdomen twitch with each sharp inhale of air he takes, so mesmerized by the shape of your pretty mouth around his dick, like you were made for him. “Such a good girl, huh?”

He fucks himself into your mouth roughly, frantically. Tears start to prick at your eyes from holding your breath, yet you keep yourself together just a little longer for him, lashes fluttering shut tightly.

“All mine too,” Jungkook hisses. “Wouldn’t let Yukhei do this to you, would you? Fuck, I’m━”

With your head left immobile stuck in his grasp, you hum in disapproval instead. You know he’s close when you start to hear him panting breathily. When he cums, it’s with a fractured whine and in short hot bursts onto your tongue and down your throat. You swallow as much as you can and, when he parts from you with a resonating lewd pop, you wipe away with your knuckles at the rest of his cum leaking out of the corner of your mouth and onto your chin. Dark hooded eyes meet with yours, a mischievous glint captivating them. You crawl over to him, straddling his hips once more, chasing his mouth with yours. Your own lips are so wet, coated in saliva and cum, bruised plump, but yet you’re smiling so innocently past the way he can taste himself on his tongue.

A dazed thought pops into your head that has you murmuring wistfully against him, “Say it again. I like hearing you call me baby.”

“Hmm? What about when I call you my good girl?” Jungkook nips at your lips. He grasps at your waist, flipping you over until you’re on your back beneath him. “You treat me so well, baby; you’re my only girl, you know that.”

A contented sigh sounds from you as you rut your hips in thinning desperation to meet his, so close to rubbing against his dick nestled against his thigh. He licks at his fingers hastily, reaching between the two of you to press against your clit, rubbing leisurely at the soft bundle of nerves. He’s learned how to navigate your body after months of supposed emotionless fucking, but now? Now, he felt as if his heart may just burst through his chest. Every reaction you make to his every touch ━ the needy plea to have him make you his, call you baby ━ makes him want to see more, and more.

“Am I?” You ask hoarsely. He grasps at his dick, guiding his tip to your core, so slick and wet, glistening with your own arousal. As he pushes himself in with a hiss, he watches as you contort beneath him. “Nnngh, Jungkook━”

“Fuuck,” he groans. He sinks into you, spreading your thighs further and further apart, until his hips make contact with yours. His mouth attacks yours with a feverish passion, the rumble of his moans and your whimpers muffling against one another. Then, he remembers to answer your awaiting question, barely audible between the way his tongue lavs at yours. “You are. I’m so fucking in love with you. But I don’t deserve you.”

Your hands tug impatiently at his hair. “Stop saying that.”

“But it’s true,” he hums. He’s quick to start rutting at your hips in a steady yet agonizing pace, dick burrowing into your pussy as your walls throb and shake. He can’t help but watch, mesmerized as always by the way his length slips past your folds and disappears into you. Again, and again, and again, so lewdly destroying your pretty cunt. “Just want Yukhei to touch you all over instead, don’t you?”

“No,” You croak.

You spread your thighs instinctively wider apart, allowing him to sink even further into you until it feels as if he’s hitting you so far in your stomach. Each roll of his hips is punctuated by the crude noise of skin against skin, sending you spiralling.

“Want him to do all sorts of dirty things to you, huh?”

“N-No. Fuck, Jungkook━ Harder, please━”

“That’s what you said,” Jungkook retorts. Still, he listens to your pleas, snapping his hips into yours roughly enough to send you jolting back on the bed. His hands start to roam your body, pinching at your hips, then grasping ferociously at one of your breasts. “Want him to fuck you in his car, right?” His palm feels like fire as it slides up past your collarbones to your throat. “Want him to choke you.”

His hand comes to wrap around the underside of your jaw on your throat, thumb and index finger pressing against the pressure points there. He squeezes, though with barely any force, just enough to feel your rapid pulse beneath his digits in a way that makes you so suddenly hyper aware of everything he’s doing to you. Cock stretching you wide, palm heavy around your throat, mouth folding over yours. So caught up in the overwhelming sensations you’re feeling, you can’t tell if he’s genuinely upset with himself, though you suspect part of him is. You can sense it in the way he clings to you a little tighter, can see it laced within his dazzling pupils.

Jungkook huffs, hair flopping into his eyes as he grits his teeth and ruts his hips faster into you if only to see more of your pretty little reactions. Your jaw unhinges at the feeling, head falling back onto the pillows. “He could probably treat you nicer too.”

You shake your head wildly, fingers digging into the skin on his shoulders. “Just want you, Koo.”

“Still?” he asks. His grip on your neck fastens a little more, pure euphoria riddling all your senses and making you writhe beneath him. “God, you’re such a dumb little slut, aren’t you?”

You nod in your groggy exhaustion, the familiar burn coiling in your stomach, making your toes curl.

Jungkook feels your own high approach. Your walls are clenched so tightly around him, he has to sputter for air. “Could he make you feel like this?”

“No, Koo,” You whine. “Only you.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook growls. “Good girl. Gonna cum around my dick like the good little slut you are?”

Your hips ricochet upwards to meet his, relentless pounding into your core. “Please, please━”

Jungkook quickens his pace until you’ve deteriorated into absolute shambles, whimpering his name after each thrust. You tumble towards your high, cuming around his length as he burrows it into you again and again, and all he can think is mine, mine, mine. As you unravel beneath him, he slides his hand off of your throat and slithers it underneath you and around your waist, hoisting you slightly enough off the bed so that he can reach his own orgasm. He’s a little more frantic now, sloppy and restless as he pummels into you.

“Shit, baby━” he cries out. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good━”

As you come down from your high enough, you somehow manage to murmur drowsily, “Cum in me, Koo. Wanna feel it.”

You grab at his face, pulling him down to catch his lips on yours, and the thought is so tempting he can’t refuse. He gets so lost in your lips, cuming with one final slam of his hips into yours and a chorus of curses mingling with your name in whimpers. He rides out both of your highs with a few half-hearted thrusts, more concerned with kissing you in useless open-mouthed kisses as your own mouth parts with one last weary moan while he fills you up.

When he’s spent, he collapses against your chest, and you collapse onto the bed. It’s quiet long enough for the both of you to calm the shrill beat of your hearts when you feel Jungkook stir, moving to part from you, pulling his dick from your swollen pussy and planting a lingering peck on your cheek. He disappears momentarily but returns a few seconds later, towel in hand which he uses to wipe at your core now leaking with his cum and your heart croons at all his tender touches.

It makes you realize all at once that, god, yes, you’re so in love with your idiot best friend and he’s so in love with you.

“Jungkook.”

He turns to look at you, an adoring smile dancing upon his lips when he sees your own radiant beaming face. You beckon him over and he relents, letting you pull him into your arms. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck as he wraps his own arms around you to tug you closer to his side. As your fingers come to rake through his sweaty hair, he cranes his neck to follow your hand and hear him coo against your neck, “That feels so good.”

A sudden thought crosses your mind that has you smirking smally to yourself. “Are we… Are we cuddling? Jungkook, I thought you didn’t like cuddling. Said it was, and I quote, sentimental bullshit.”

“I never liked it because it wasn’t with you. Didn’t wanna waste my time on someone that wasn’t you,” Jungkook hums, matter-of-fact. You can tell he’s a little embarrassed at the way you so casually taunt him about such an obvious fact, though he’s fortunate you can’t see him smiling like a complete fool. “And I wanna do all that sentimental bullshit with only you. Now, shush━” He scolds you playfully. “M’so tired and I just wanna hold you tight.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Your heart leaps in your chest. “Just promise me one thing?”

It’s only then that he lifts his sleepy gaze to find yours, apprehensive of any potentially looming severity in your words. “Anything.”

Instead, all he can find is the way you trace your finger along the details of his face, from his nose, to his cheekbones, down to the freckle under his lip with the hand that sports your friendship bracelet. “In the morning, when we wake up, you’ll still be here to hold me tight. And every other morning after that.”

His smile widens even more, if that was even possible. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. But━”

“But?”

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

His eyes sparkle cheekily. “Kiss me.”

So, you do, again and again and again; and Jungkook thinks, yeah, he certainly can get used to this.

It takes you a month to cave in to Jungkook’s incessant pleas to fuck you to his sex playlist. You do it mostly to humour him, though part of you is a little bit intrigued at the thought.

Stowed away in his room, he eats you out to the choruses of sultry The Weeknd and raunchy Ariana Grande songs, fucks you to the likes of the Neighbourhood and Kim Petras while you’re on all fours, and you’re only half-paying attention to the music until you hear it. Admittedly, you almost completely miss it but you blame Jungkook and the way he’s making you currently feel, sprawled out beneath him, chests pressed flush against one another in a sweaty, sticky mess, breathy and glorious moans of your name filling your ears when━

“I had no choice but to hear you. You stated your case time and again━”

The dulcet chime of Alanis Morissette thrums about the room, a complete and utter shift in contrast in the atmosphere that has you immediately pausing.

“Jungkook.” But he knows what you set out to say even before you do, judging by the tone in your voice and the stifling smirk on his face. You gawk at him, biting at your lip to hide your laughter but you fail miserably. “You weren’t joking?”

He shrugs innocently, leaving you just as dumbfounded as you were two seconds ago. Instead, he says, “Gotta do what I promised then, don’t I?”

You quirk a brow. “What was that exactly?”

“Gotta give you the best orgasm of your life.”

“If you can do that to cheesy 90s pop, I’ll have your actual babies, Jungkook.” The effort is endearing and impressive, to say the least.

A roll of your eyes is met with a taunting roll of his hips into yours that wipes the jest off your face immediately. He grins like a madman, uttering a little stupidly, and a little ardently, “Say no more.”

Because, all things considered and joking aside, he wants it with you ━ the dazed daydreamy talk of a future together and kids, friendship bracelets, and cuddles in the morning. Because you mean the world to him and more. Because you’re his best friend, and he’s so madly in love with you.

Because he wants it all with you.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

13K notes · View notes

masonmiamor · 2 years ago

Text

Like old times… - - Mason Mount x reader.

hi lovelies, I missed you all, here’s pt.2 of we meet again! 🤭🫶🏻

“I don’t want anything serious right now… You really hurt me. I brought myself down too much, to the point where I rethink anything I say or do. I need time,” you say standing up and wiping your tears. Mason sighed in defeat, knowing it would take a while but he was sure he wanted you.

“I’ll respect that Y/n. I thought I lost you… I did for a while. Everyone said I was stupid for what I did, and they’re right. I don’t deserve you, but I can’t help it but be by your side. You’re it for me baby,” you sob once again at his words. He suddenly pulls you into a warm hug, digging his head into the crook of your neck.

“I’m really sorry baby, I really am. I never meant to hurt you to this extent. It may sound like I'm gaslighting you but I'm not. I will do anything it takes to have you back at my side,” he confessed, leaning back and grabbing your cheeks. He let out a small smile when you blushed at his actions.

“To hold you, when asleep or in need of a hug, help you cook and bake while making our favorite, listen to you read while I draw small shapes on your chest or arm. I just need you…” It was silent. The only thing you could faintly hear from both of you was the way your hearts were beating extremely fast.

“Promise me something…” you let out, taking his hands and holding them near your sides. “Anything. You name it,” you chucked at his urgency. “Promise you won’t leave me again, that nothing you said that night was true, and you’re not lying to me”.

His brown eyes stared deep into yours, you seeing the faint tear streaks running down his cheeks, “I promise my love.” He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, hugging you once again. Just in case for whatever reason he doesn’t get to hold you anymore… he can forever cherish this intimate moment.

~~~

Weeks later you find yourself in his house again. You stayed outside in the cold rainy weather debating whether or not what you were doing was right. He offered you to come to his house to spend a friday night together, do some of the old things you did before.

On your way here you made sure to bring some art supplies, a deck of cards, and a fresh pack of baked cookies he loved dearly. You reminded yourself of the small steps you were taking. The small steps leading up to build something bigger in the future between you.

Mason sent you flowers every Saturday when he was away for a game. Roses to be exact, with small notes reminding you of the worthy and loving person you were. He offered to take late night drives back to the secret space you both stored, and buy ice cream afterwards.

He made sure you weren’t feeling uncomfortable or off before going out, only wanting the best. He’d ask to hold your hand, every now in then peckering small kisses on the back. When nervous he would fidget with a gold ring you had on, twisting it one side to another.

Tonight felt right. Something was in the air, and you felt better than before. The nerves washed upon you as you pulled into the familiar driveway , least to say when you kicked off your boots and walked into the hall where he had some of his accomplishments.

“I just finished putting the pasta into the water. Come here, let me show you my secret sauce,” he gestured with his hand to follow him, you smiled and did so. The kitchen looked different, quickly noticing he changed the dining table and had more plants. A more modern home.

He stood behind you watching the way you cut the garlic, chili, tomatoes, etc. Praising you as you followed the simple instructions. While washing your hands, you speaked all of the sudden, “I have a surprise…” he cocked his to the side while stirring the hot pan.

“Which is? I was perfectly fine with the cookies Y/n,” he said nervously. You held up your finger and walked back to the entrance where you picked up the items. He watched you impatiently as you set down the bags. He walked over to your side taking a seat on the barstool.

“So you said well sorta implied to old times, I brought some canvases, paint and brushes. I was thinking of doing this small challenge I saw on twitter, only if you want to of course,” he nodded and kissed your temple. He thanked you shyly, making you giggle.

“And…” he looked up at you sheepishly, “Since fall is here I got you crocs with spider-man charms, and a Nike crewneck. We’d be matching,” you pointed to your feet and shirt seeing him laugh. “This is perfect! The fact you got Spidermen charms too! Thank you Y/n I love it,” he hugged you while still holding the shoes and shirt.

The bell dinged, cutting the moment short and putting your full attention to the dinner. After setting up the table with plates, utensils and candles you sat down across each other. You sipped on your wine hearing him talk about the match that took place this weekend, how Kai and him exchanged charms bracelets.

How he would smile while talking about Summer and his family and telling you how he found out he was going to be an uncle again. You mentally noted to congratulate his sister later. He listened to you gossip about work, about the pictures you took in the city, and your friend moving out with her boyfriend.

“I’ll help you clean Mason,” he opened his mouth to disagree but you shook your head. “Nope none of that. I’m helping, end of story,” he rolled his eyes playfully at your stubbornness. You wiped down counters, sweeped and loaded the dishwasher.

After that you both were seated in the living room, full attention at the card game. After beating him twice he decided it was enough, claiming “he didn’t want to boost your ego too much”.

After painting on the canvases a small silence fell between you again. The air felt heavy and cold, you looked around and saw the picture of the two of you back when he took you to the Chelsea christmas dinner. Him kissing your neck as you squirmed and laughed. He looked at you then back at the picture, feeling now sad and confused.

Today was well needed for you. It almost felt surreal to him when you agreed to his offer, adding to when you surprised him. To others it would look like you never went through what both of you experienced. Mason had to pinch himself reminding you weren’t his just yet…

He got positive feedback from everyone and he felt more different than before. A brighter smile and mindset. Often hearing the teasing and compliments at Cobham or from his family. He saw the change, and grew to like it quickly. It was all due to the fact you were back into his life.

You looked at his frown placed on his face, leaning in and rubbing your thumb over his freckles. “What’s wrong Mason? Did I do something?,” you asked anxiously. He looked up and saw your eyes, his heart beating faster than before.

“How much longer do I have to prove myself to you? When will you believe me?” he said sternly and upset. His words took you at back, “I-I-I…” you were lost for words, seeing his shoulders drop at your reaction.

He stood up, regretting how he spoke up all of the sudden. His cheeks burned red as embarrassment washed over him. You followed his movements, “Mason, I-,” he shook his head. “It’s fine, sorry I asked…,” you furrowed your brows at his disappointed tone.

“Forget it, it’s fine… actually no. Am I reading the room wrong? I just have done so much to prove myself and I'm going crazy… I love you Y/n, only you…” you intake a breath at his confession.

“The amount of times I walk in here and see our

photo plastered on the wall, or the small mug you have in the cabinet with your favorite coffee, or the fact our photo album is still stored in the same spot. I’m slowly giving up and accepting maybe the fact you’re done with me…” his voice trailed down into a sadder tone.

He shook his head and sat on his white couch, you snapped back into reality and walked toward his curled body, seeing how he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why would I do that? Give up on us? I’m sorry if I didn’t show those old emotions like before Mason. Trust me all I want is you too…”

He looked up, you seeing how he teared up. You straddled his lap, rubbing your hands from his shoulders and resting them on his neck. “I love you Mason Mount. You don’t have to prove yourself any longer, or read the room incorrectly because I feel the same way… It took me a while to comprehend but you stuck to your word,”

You could feel his fast pulse as you leaned in and placed your lips against his, after forever. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and hummed, after so long he could finally feel the way your lips molded against his. He rested his hand on the back of your neck, the other arm bringing you closer from the waist.

He pulled apart, and you smiled but quickly kissed back as he placed his lips on your more eagerly. He kissed you more deeply and passionately, almost falling apart as you let out a small moan.

He pecked the inner corners of your mouth, cheeks, nose and jaw, never wanting to stop. You giggled at his excitement but held on tight. He stopped and rested his forehead along yours, seeing the way your lashes touched your cheeks when your eyes were closed.

After a small peck to your neck he faced you, “Where do we go from here?” he asked, concerned. “From here, I would like you to be my boyfriend again, the one who laughed when I tickled, or pouted when I didn’t give them a proper kiss,” he hummed and thought about it. “I would like that very much my love.”

“Hi boyfriend…” you said shyly, seeing how his eyes glimmered at your words. “Hi girlfriend…” he said sheepishly. You suddenly stood up and remembered, “The cookies! I’ll be right back!”

He groaned at no longer holding you, “Forget the cookies. Women, If you don’t come this instant!”

#money mase #mm19 #cfc #mason mount #mason mount blurb #mason mount one shot #mason mount imagines #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine

161 notes · View notes

h4chi · 2 years ago

Text

love alarm, part i.

where THEO makes YN’s love alarm ring.

theo x female reader. 909 words

“i can’t believe you downloaded it.”

yoon keeho sighed from his seat across you, his head resting on the palm of his hand while he boringly sipped some tea.

you smiled to yourself, fingers busy playing with your brand new phone case.

“intak asked me to do so. he said he made a bet with one of his friends that he could get a few people to download it. stupid bet, to be honest.” you smiled softly. “but you know i’d do anything for him.”

keeho simply chuckled. “yeah, i know. he knows too. kind of easy.”

keeho’s eyes moved from your figure to the entrance of the cafe upon hearing the bell ring.

“oh, you want to turn around so bad.”

“who’s there?” you sip from your cappuccino, fighting the urge to embarrass yourself and your best friend in front of whoever was at the entrance.

“it’s jiung with… jia? park jia, i think. isn’t she the 5th girl he’s going out with this week?”

“park jia as in kim jongseob’s best friend?” he hums in approval.

“poor thing. i could never bare breathing the same air as him for more than five minutes.” keeho stifles a laugh with a smile, before gazing back to the entrance door.

“careful, they’re coming here.” he fix his sitting position. ”behave, please. we’re in public.”

“sure thing, dad.”

“so, who do we have here?” jiung puts a hand on your shoulder, smiling first at you and then at keeho. “high school heartthrob keeho and the beautiful yn. who if not my favorite duo! how is it going, guys?” he doesn’t move his hand from your figure, and you can feel jia glaring at you next to her boyfriend.

keeho answers for the both of you. “we’re doing just fine, jisung, thank you for asking.”

jiung raises his hand to catch a waiter’s attention, then mouthing him a ‘the usual’.

keeho looks at him in a way to silently tell him to go away, while jiung looks back with a stretched smile on his face, with no intention of moving from the spot he’s currently standing in.

there’s just a second of silence before you decide to interrupt. “so, how’s it going with your new girl?” you smile at the lady you just mentioned, who doesn’t change her expression from earlier. “does she know you were here yesterday around the same hour with sora? or two days ago with mia?” jia furrows her eyebrows, clearly unaware.

“hey hey hey, yn, my dear.” jiung finally leaves your shoulder in peace, both his hands raising in defense from your recent statement. “can’t a guy go out with his friends in peace?” he puts an arm around jia, who looks pissed at his last statement, but still decides to stay where she is.

“yeah, whatever. make sure to pay for her at least.” you stand up and look at keeho, who gets the hint and copies your movements. “we’re leaving, we got class in 5. see you around?”

keeho bids goodbye at the couple, then following you to the exit.

“bye lovebirds!” jiung shouts.

“yn, what did i tell you?” you’re walking to class. actually, keeho’s english class, as yours, italian, just got cancelled.

“i didn’t say anything bad! just the truth.” you raised your hands in defense. “i feel sorry for all the girls he went to bed with. you know we have this beef going on from, like, 7th grade.” you keep on rambling. “i despise him.” you narrow your eyes. “a lot.”

keeho let’s out a sigh, passing a hand through his hair. “next time, let’s just leave.”

it’s silence for a while, and then you take a good look at him from your peripheral view.

“is everything good?”

he nods.

“i didn’t do the homework. miss song will kick my ass for real this time.”

you stop in front of his class, getting some papers from your bag. “here. you can pay me back with a coffee tomorrow morning.”

“oh my god, i love you. you’re the best.” keeho quickly takes the papers from you, hugging you. “i’ll go now, see you in korean?”

you let out a “uh-uh” as you then start making your way to the school cafeteria.

the big room is now empty, as all of the students have already left to reach their classes. you take a seat on a table in the left corner of the room, going to charge your ipad to the nearest outlet. you put your headphones on, playing some music on shuffle.

theo looks at his phone, a cross covering the text ‘japanese - room 4’ on his school’s schedule app. he looked around, not a soul to be seen, and started making his way out of the building.

apart from the faint sound of music coming from your device, the big, white room is completely silent. it’s too late for theo to go back when he sets foot in the place, and you both hear a notification from your phone.

you pause the music, widening your eyes while staring incredulously at your screen.

someone likes you within a 10 meters radius.

you look up, and your eyes meet theo’s. he seems also aware of what just happened, and he does the first thing that comes to his mind: he quickly runs outside.

you’re still sitting on your chair, frozen, completely immobilized.

you don’t know what to do, nor what to think.

read part ii here !! back to masterlist.

P1HARMONY MASTERLIST !

#p1h keeho #p1harmony #p1harmony theo #p1h theo #keeho p1h #p1h #p1h imagines #p1ece #theo x yn #theo x you #theo imagines #theo x reader #theo #kpop #kpop imagines #choi taeyang #taeyang

79 notes · View notes

planetsano · 3 years ago

Text

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 𖥔 ⭒ ִ ׂ 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 !

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — is it you or her?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — heavy angst, toxic relationship, potential spoilers, one slap, mention of death, arguments, childhood friends to lovers if you squint.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 — ryuuguji “draken” ken.

After all the screaming, the only thing that could be heard was a blaring silence that impregnated the room. There was a dull and uncomfortable ringing that sounded in the ears that didn’t seem to go away no matter how hard you tried to cover your ears. The pitch was coming from you head, mixing in awfully with the echoes of the previous argument that left the atmosphere between them solemn and hostile.

The tension was unmistakable, so thick that you could cut through it with a knife and serve it on a plate. Shards of glass, thrown furniture and decorations had been tossed everywhere. You couldn’t take a step without hearing the crunch of broken glass under your high-heeled shoe as you stood in the kitchen. All this fighting and crying in such a pretty outfit and makeup, on a night that was supposed to be fun. A one year anniversary completely turned to shit over the mention of one name.

You felt lightheaded and sick to your stomach. His face— his handsome, stupid fucking face made you stomach churn. Every single detail. Every lash, every freckle, even down to the pattern biologically engraved on his dark irises. Everything you once loved, you found yourself loathing all within the span of a few hours. It was a chore looking at him and you was certain if you looked at him again you'd be one of the rare cases of people actually dying of heartbreak.

What a pretty way to go. You almost wanted to laugh at the thought but couldn’t bring yourself to do it. If anything, a laugh right now would’ve made things worse with the way the energy in the air. When did everything get like this? You found your inner thoughts asking many questions like how you could let it get this bad? And was everything really your fault in the end? Was there anything you could do about it?

“I can’t ever be her, Ken..” You spoke after what felt like hours, voice completely shot from the previous screaming match moments before.

“I know.” Draken sighed, his large rubbing his face out of frustration? Fatigue? Maybe a combination of both.

“When did you stop loving me? Did you ever—” You couldn’t even get your sentence out before his tall and built figure rushes towards you, grabbing your flushed and sniveling face with one hand. He squishes your cheeks and his fingers then dig into the soft skin of your face.

“I always loved you, don’t— don’t fucking do that to me,” Draken says, his eyes slightly unhinged as he speaks. He’s shaking, seething with anger actually but he has self-control. He won’t hurt you and you both know that the most you’d get from him was a face shove and even so, that was rare. But what was he supposed to do when you're kicking and scratching at him. You can't listen to words when you got like that.

“Then why— why are you using me? Why am I the one who has to be the replacement?” You ask, eyes searching for any sign of an answer in his dark irises.

“I told you, I didn’t mean to call you by her name..” Draken lets go of your face and takes a step back, irritation heavy on the handsome features of his face.

“And that makes it okay? Because it was an accident?” You laugh at the end of your sentence.

“I love y—” Draken can’t finish his sentence before his face is turned to the side from the impact of the slap you landed on his cheek. It stings your own hand, the feeling rippling through the nerves on your hand.

“Fuck you, Ken.” You spit harshly.

“Yeah,” he chuckles and shakes his head, a look on his face that says he’s over this back and forth. “Fuck me.” He starts to make his way out of the mess that is the kitchen until your voice stops him in his tracks.

“If she was still here.. who would you pick?” You asked softly, tears brimming in your eyes when you started at his back.

“Don’t ask shit for answers you don’t wanna hear,” He says calmly over his shoulder. “We’ll talk when you’re not a fuckin’ spaz..” He exits the kitchen, already on his way up the stairs.

“I hope you die.” You say quietly. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!” Draken can hear your screams of anguish from all the way up the stairs, and yet all he can do is sit on the edge of your shared bed, elbows resting on his knees with his hands gripping at the roots of his hair. His mind wandered off to when you were both just kids.

“Come on, (Name).. Why are they frilly and girly lookin’?” Draken groaned at the Hello Kitty band aids (Name) was about to put on his bleeding knee scrapes. She looks at him with furrowed brows and a pout, intense but childishly cute fire in her eyes as she looks at the young boy. Her cheeks are puffed.

“They’re gonna to help you! It doesn’t matter how they look! Now, stop being a crybaby!” She scolded as her little hands opened the paper packaging of the aid before she gently placed it on his knee.

Draken can’t hide his blush at her care, his tummy fluttering with butterflies as he watches her work so intently. The feeling was so new, he'd never known anything to feel quite like this, but even so, he continues to watch her quietly. (Name) opens the last band aid and goes to put it on the cut on his cheek that carried so much baby fat he hadn't lost yet. But, he stops her with a gentle grab of the wrist. She gives him a confused look.

“Wait.. what about you?” He asked, noticing that she was still bleeding on her own leg. Quite badly too. It was the only cut she had but hers seemed like it was way more severe than the few of his own.

“Nuh-uh,” She shook her head cutely. “I’ll be fine! I care about you more, Ken!” She brushed it off quickly, but her voice was completely genuine. Draken felt.. strange.. but it felt good. Since that day, he always found himself wanting to be near her or worrying about her even when she wasn't around.

That was the day Draken knew he fell in love with you. A soul so selfless that you'd be willing to help others over your own self. He watches a tear fall from his eye and stained the carpet below with a single water droplet. Things were complicated but he's never once doubted his love for you. He wishes he could go back to that day and relive it with you. When things were sweet at could be taken at face value.

“What happened to us?” He asks himself quietly. Draken wants to fix things, but he doesn't know how and for the first time in his life, he wants to run away.

#draken x reader #ken ryuuguji x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #tr x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyorev draken #draken #ken ryuuguji imagines #ken ryuuguji #draken imagines #ryuuguji ken x reader #ken ryuuguji headcanons #toyko revengers #tokyo revengers imagines

1K notes · View notes

erodasfishtacos · 4 years ago

Text

Acting Up (mini blurb)

thanks sm to Sarah who generously donated to my ko fi. she requested a blurb about mlbrry going to get ice cream as a family so here you go! with a little harry in DAD mode.

—

It was a hot night and the kids were a bit stir-crazy, so was eight-month pregnant YN in the house while Harry had been traveling to play.

“Mama, what’d y’want?” Harry murmurs, hand rubbing her bump as they wait with one hand as he has Ezra propped on his hip on the other side.

“Everything sounds so good,” She groans as she looks over the menu, pregnancy hunger was a real thing.

Her bump was bigger than any of her other pregnancy and she was quite miserable - though trying to make the best out of it.

“I’ll buy y’the whole menu,” Her husband replies as he reviews the menu board in front of them as well.

“Then I’ll be as big as house,” YN quips, hands running through Cash’s curly locks as he hugs her leg

“Just more f’me to love on,” He hums happily, moving to grope her bum a bit until she smacks his off with an eye roll.

He sees out of the corner of his eye his oldest taunting his middle child with goofy faces.

“Easton, enough,” Harry scolds as he sees Cash’s eyebrows furrow as he gets frustrated with his older brother.

Six and four - what an age.

The oldest stops at the firm tone of his father, huffing and giving his brother a dirty look before moving to stand next to his dad.

When they arrive at the order window, a teenage boy steps over to greet them, his mouth drops open as he sees who it is.

“Y-you’re Harry S-Styles,” The kid stutters, his face flushing red and his eyes wide as he stares at the celebrity.

Harry smiles kindly with a chuckle, “I am. Are you fan? Pleasure to meet you.”

“Daddy, why does he know your name?” Cash asked in confusion as he peeks around his father’s leg.

“‘cause he plays babeball, stupid,” Easton replies with an attitude towards his brother.

“Mama!” Cash shrieks offendly.

YN sighs, cupping Harry’s hand on her belly for moment, “Order me a banana split with peanut butter and extra strawberry. I’m going to go talk to East.”

YN pulls Easton to an empty table with enough room for the five of them and also to accommodate her belly.

“Why are you picking on your brother?” YN uses her mom mode voice as she watches her son pout out his lip.

“He stole my dolphin stuffie earlier!”

Of course.

“Is that the proper way to treat him though?” YN questions directly, tilting his chin up so she can make eye contact.

“No mama,” Easton mumbles, struggling to keep his mother’s gaze.

“Will you say sorry to him when he comes over?” YN encourages.

He agrees, lisps out an apology before Harry hands him a bowl of chocolate ice cream with rainbow sprinkles.

After a few minutes, YN winces and stands from the table, a hand going to rest of her back.

“What’s wrong, mama?” Harry asks with concern laced in his tone. He was currently feeding Ezra little bits of strawberry that was dripping down his chin.

“Just my back is achey, I’m just going to stand and eat,” She grumbles, shifting her weight side-to-side as she takes small bites of her banana split.

“Stop it!” Easton whines when Cash sticks his finger into his older brothers bowl and submerges it in his ice cream.

“Cash,” Harry states, reaching for his middle son’s arm “Get y’hand out of your brother’s food, right now.”

Cash listens but snickers when he realizes he’s managed to annoy Easton.

When Harry looks back to his wife, he then hears Cash shouting, “No!”

The parents look back to see Easton with chocolate ice cream as his nice white shirt and Cash with a sticky hand of melted dessert.

“Cash!” YN scolds on frustration, they were really usually good with each other but today was not their day.

She sits down her food to rustled through the diaper bag for wipes. She cleans off Cash’s hands with a pointed stare as Harry reaches over to clean up Easton.

“You’re done,” Harry tells Cash firmly, picking up his son’s bowl that he hadn’t finished and dumping it in the garbage. “Y’don’t get ice cream if y’just goin’ to throw it.”

That sends the middle one into a meltdown and it makes it even worse when Easton taunts, “No more for you!”

It has Cash standing up and darting around the table but Easton sees him and gets up to bolt away from his grasps.

“Stop running right now,” Harry raises his voice, groaning when Ezra starts to whimper at the chaos and holds on to Harry tighter.

“Boys! Listen to your fa-“

Easton darts around his mother but Cash isn’t as agile yet and knocks right into the front of her calves causing her banana split to drop out of her hands and for her to stumble.

“Baby!” Harry panics, instantly moving forward to grab her arm and pulls her towards him so she tumbles into his chest instead of backwards.

“Oh my god,” YN whimpers, her breathing becoming quicker as her heart rate spikes from the scare, hands coming to her bump.

The boys are frozen still were they’re at. Eyes wide and tears welling at the fear their mother got hurt by them

“Mama, y’alright? Sweetheart, I know Y’got scared. Breathe for me,” Harry soothes more worried about his wife than scolding his kids.

“If I would have fallen,” YN is tearing up, anxiety spiking through her chest at the thought of the baby getting hurt.

Harry is breathing heavier than he’d like to admit too.

“Don’t cry, s’okay. The baby is perfect, y’keeing them so nice and safe, bein’ a perfect mama,” He assures her, kissing her temple and brushing away a tear.

Ezra is distressed too, of course the sensitive little boy is, chanting, “mommy, mommy, mommy.”

She clears her throat, smiling softly at her youngest boy, “M’okay, Ezzie. It’s all okay.”

“Mama, hold me,” Ezra begs, reaching out his arms to be switched to his mother but Harry holds him tight and shakes his head ‘no.’

“Not right now baby. Mommy doesn’t feel very good,” YN tells him, chest still pounding, back still aching.

And when their youngest starts sobbing, screaming that he wants his mother, well...YN starts feel overwhelmed by her two olders ones who are whimpering because they know they’re in trouble and Ezra tantruming.

“Sweetheart,” Harry can tell by the tears bubbling up along her waterline what’s going on, “Baby, y’okay. What do y’need?”

YN sucks in a deep breath, gathering her thoughts for a moment, “I just need a minute alone. You can have Easton and Ezra finish their ice cream. Then come after you’re done.”

“I can do that,” Harry replies sadly, he couldn’t stand seeing his wife upset or scared - it was one of the worst feelings for him.

When YN grabs the car keys and leaves towards the car, Ezra settles as soon as he’s being fed ice cream again. The boys hesitantly go back to their seats across from their dad.

Harry knows they’re young. They don’t understand what it would mean if they knocked their heavily pregnant mother over but it doesn’t mean aggravation isn’t running through him at the two.

“Daddy...” Easton sniffles cautiously, kicking his feet under the table as his chest shutters.

“Yes?” Harry answers calmly, looking up from Ezra to meet his son’s gaze - the same green eyes staring back at him.

“Do you and mommy hate us?” His oldest asks as he wipes his cheeks with the back of his hand.

“No, mama and I love you two with all our hearts. But daddy is very upset with you two right now, do you understand why?”

They both nod in agreement that they do.

“Why are we upset?” Harry prompts as he takes a wet wipe to rubs over Ezra’s strawberry stained face.

“Cause we made mommy almost fall,” Cash lisps shamefully.

Harry nods, “And we tell you very often that we have to be careful with mama because she’s got a baby in her belly and we have t’keep the baby safe.”

“Are we in trouble?” Easton voice is still quiver with his guilt.

“I’ll have t’talk to y’mom but if it happens again, y’both are goin’ to be in a lot of trouble and y’gonna get a consequence. Do you understand that too?”

They nod in unison. Easton hadn’t touched his ice cream again, gets up to throw it away as he loiters - looking towards the car where his mother is sitting away from them.

Cash gets up to but slowly walks around the table to his father.

“M’sorry daddy,” He squeaks tearfully, moving forward and digging his face into Harry’s bicep.

“Cash,” Harry soothes, grasps his son lightly under the chin, “I love you very much, okay? We just can’t do things like that. Y’need to listen to daddy and mama.”

He nods in understanding before crawling up into his father’s lap, right next to Ezra - who gives him an affronted glare when he realizes he has to share space with him.

When they’re done and Harry has let enough time past, he walks the little group of boys toward their SUV.

He opens the passenger side door where YN is reclined a bit, hand on her stomach and the air-conditioner blasting cold air on her face.

“The boys have somethin’ t’say,” Harry smiles softly, leaning over to give his wife a quick kiss.

“M’sorry mama,” Cash whispers.

“Me too, mommy,” Easton adds on.

“I forgive you both. You just have to be careful with me. You’re sibling is in here and we have to keep them nice and healthy, right? I love you two more than anything.”

#mlb!harry #mlbrry #mlb!Harry blurbs #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing

1K notes · View notes

bucksfucks · 4 years ago

Text

𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚

TFATWS EPISODE THREE SPOILERS.

summary┃the plan was simple. get in, get out, and always remember rule number three; no one gets hurt.

pairing┃tws!bucky x f!reader

word count┃1,935 words

warnings┃dubcon elements, soft!dark!tws, semi-public sex, choking, spitting kink, metal arm kink, soldat kink, death threat, degradation, mocking, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes┃PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH ANY MENTIONED ELEMENTS.

“Is the plan understood?” It’s Zemo who asks the question, nodding to each of you as you all exchange looks before heading your separate ways.

When you enter the scene, you can feel the floor shaking under your feet from the bass. Drinks are passed around with bodies floating through the space.

“And I thought we knew how to party in New York.” Your voice is muffled over the music, but you know Bucky can hear you.

“I haven’t partied like this ever.” He has to yell back in order for you to hear him as you both laugh.

You have to push your way through the crowd before stopping at where Sam and Zemo are left waiting for you.

Zemo nods towards Bucky, Bucky taking in a deep breath before giving him one nod.

He’s wearing something you’d never seen him in; Winter Soldier gear sans the mask.

“Longing.” You can see the twitch in Bucky’s metal fingers.

“Rusted.” It gets worse as he tenses his jaw.

“Furnace.” You have to look away when you see the pained look in his face.

Sam looks at you, a look that tells you to stick to the plan so you drift back and mix into the crowd.

You were nothing but a distraction, a distraction that would hopefully buy you guys some time.

But something went wrong.

Something always goes wrong.

You can see the obvious and evident switch in Bucky—there’s something more sinister in his eyes now as he watches you move from side to side; standing completely motionless and trained on you.

There’s a moment of realization when you realize just what’s happened.

A moment of oh fuck before he’s striding over to you and grasping at your upper arms.

“Come with me, Bunny. We have some unfinished business.” His voice is low and calm, parts of Bucky shining through, but you can’t seem to find him in his eyes.

“Bucky,” you try remain calm, but his hip is firm and you know that this is a battle you won’t win in.

You can’t help it when your voice falters in fear, but you can’t afford to bring any attention to yourself.

Sam is elsewhere, Zemo in tow as your eyes dart to find them—at the bar, drinking.

You were all alone, you had no backup; Bucky was your backup.

He was no longer Bucky, but the Winter Soldier.

“I said come. Don’t make me put you over my shoulder.” He threatened as you swallowed thickly.

You quickly search for Sam or Zemo, but they’re long gone. The distraction worked and they’d be proceeding with the plan.

What they didn’t know is that Bucky wasn’t Bucky.

It didn’t feel like a threat, you felt your pussy jump in excitement at the prospect of Bucky’s hands on your body.

Your feet moved instinctually through the crowd, lead by Bucky as he took one final scan of the room to make sure that you were alone; that no one was following you.

You didn’t feel helpless, it was more than you felt like you were under a spell—inclined to do whatever Bucky wanted.

Suddenly you were slammed up against a wall, the air being knocked out of your lungs as you let out a pained hiss.

“Scream, and I’ll kill you.” He looked feral.

“Try to fight back, and I’ll kill you.” Darkness consumed his eyes.

“Do anything other than what I tell you, and I’ll kill you.”

You want to scream, to kick and fight back—you know that you damn well could put up on hell of a fight.

But you don’t.

Instead, you submit and comply.

“Yes,” you whisper, watching the smirk spread across his face.

“There’s my good girl. A dumb and stupid, but a good girl.” He purrs, running his gloved finger down your cheek until it’s hooked under your chin.

You whimper, lip shaking with your sharp inhale.

“Bucky,” you croak before your face is tightly gripped between his fingers as he snarls and shows you his teeth.

“You will call me, Soldat.” He rasped, dark and sinister with no mercy in sight.

A silent mewl escaped through your parted lips as you shut your eyes tightly, trying to steady your breathing as your heart begged to be set free.

“What’s my name?” He asks you, a test of your loyalty as you pry your eyes open.

“Soldat,” you whisper back, a pleased smile on his face as he hears the syllables leave your lips.

“Good, maybe you aren’t as useless as I thought.” He snickers, dropping your face but trapping you against the wall with his flesh forearm against your neck.

Your airway is constricted for a second, laboured and painful before Bucky is pulling you off of the wall.

“Follow me,” he barks, tugging you by the back of the neck until you budge.

His strides are long as you’re forced to keep up with him, walking through hallways so robotically with a stiff body.

You don’t know where you’re going, but the booming music is getting softer.....quieter, straying further and further out of your reach.

Bucky’s shoulders look huge, absolutely massive in the tight leather outfit he’s wearing. You know he’s in there somewhere, you just don’t know how to reach him.

But maybe you don’t want to.

Suddenly, you’re pushed against a wall, with his metal hand covering your mouth as your eyes go wide and you try to gasp.

“Don’t scream, Bunny.” He purrs, smirking as you hear two sets of footsteps go past you, completely unaware that there’s someone else in their presence.

Your heart is in your throat when he removes his hand, tugging you off the wall again so he’s holding your entire body weight up with his arm.

“Good girl, you learn quickly.” He praises, finger hooked up your chin. His lips hover right over yours, brushing them slightly—just enough to leave you wanting more.

There’s a flutter in your stomach, a feeling akin to when you’ve gone over a large hill or descended on a roller coaster; exciting and terrifying all at once.

“I’ve always been so,” he trails his finger down your jaw, “intrigued by you.”

You don’t know what it means, but you want to.

You’re shoved into a small room, a closet that barely fits the two of you. It’s dark and smells like aged wood.

His thigh is wedged between your legs, “always following orders.” He hums against your ear, nipping the skin below it.

“A Soldat’s dream,” it’s dark, the way he refers to himself.

“You’re gonna let me do whatever I want to you, Bunny.”

It’s not a question, you don’t have a choice, you’ve unwittingly sealed your fate as he meshes his lips against yours.

It’s overwhelming; his thick, padded thigh creating delicious friction against your cunt. Or the way his teeth sink into your bottom lip, tugging it to hear your soft whimpers.

You feel the wet, hot tell-tale signs of tears roll down your cheeks as Bucky pulls away to cradle your face.

It’s dark but your eyes are fully adjusted. It’s just too bad that you can see nothing else but darkness in his eyes.

“There’s no need to cry, Bunny,” he cooes, “I will take care of you.”

You’re unsure why you trust him, why you feel your body giving into him, but that’s what happens next.

A sinister chuckle passes through his lips as he tugs your pants down.

“I can smell you already,” he hisses, his cock hardening against your hip.

“You can try to fight me, Bunny. But your body tells me that you want this, that you need my cock filling you up.”

Your pussy jumps at his words, breathing ragged and heavy as the ache in your core burns right through you.

Your mouth falls open when you hear the whirring of his bionic fingers massage you slowly through your panties.

“I never said I wouldn’t make this enjoyable for you,” he smirks, watching you closely as your hands go to the vest he’s wearing.

He snarls, grabbing them at your wrists and lifting them over your head as you shudder at his strength.

If he wanted to kill you, he would’ve already.

“Maybe you are stupid,” he hisses. “Did I give you permission to touch?” He asks.

He nudges your clit with more force making you squeak.

He wanted an answer.

“N-no, Soldat.” You croak, feeling an sensation of...fulfillment when he smiles.

“Good little Bunny.” He sing-songs, “so wet and responsive.”

You gasp, mewl, arch your back as he slips two vibranium fingers into you. A shiver runs down your spine at the coolness of them, your walls welcoming them warmly.

“Can you hear that?” He asks, “hear how fuckin’ wet you are?”

You can, you can hear your wetness coating his fingers as he pumps them inside of you.

It’s absolutely filthy.

His other hand drops your wrists to your sides, flesh fingers crawling around your neck.

“Look at me, Bunny.” You don’t need to be told twice as your eyes shoot open.

“Open that pretty little mouth of you,” his voice is low and raspy, but collected despite his aching cock pressed against your hip.

His thumb presses into your bottom lip, folding it down to encourage you to open your mouth. Which you do, because he’s just too damn compelling.

You gasp back a moan, thick digits inside of your cunt now brushing that sweet, sweet, sweet spot as you watch Bucky’s saliva trail into your own mouth.

“Mine.” He growls, forcing your mouth closed, watching you swallow.

Your heartbeat reverberates in your ears, blood soaring to and from your heart as you feel yourself clenching around him.

“All. Fucking. Mine.” His words send you toppling over the edge, legs shaking and convulsing gently as he has to hold you up as you come.

There’s a zip, a tug of something, a gasp for breath as you feel his cock at your entrance.

“There’s no running now, Bunny. I’m gonna consume you,” he snarls, pushing himself past the threshold as he groans at the feeling of your wetness.

You’re forced to dig your fingernails into the leather of his jacket—clawing at it as you relish in the stretch.

He grunts with every powerful thrust, his chest colliding with your chest as he holds you up with ease.

He’s using you. Eyebrows taut as he focuses on one thing and one thing only; his carnal instincts.

“Shut up,” he seethes, shoving his fingers into your mouth.

They’re cool, tasting like your own arousal and something you can’t quite decipher.

“Say my name, say it.” He pants into your ear, something in his voice breaking.

“S-Soldat.” You choke out, trying to focus on the words that are coming out of your mouth.

“My name,” he whispers, “say, my name.”

Your heart hiccups as you open your eyes, “Bucky.”

He’s there, he’s looking at you—holding you tightly as you can see the same light in his eyes that you did just an hour ago.

“Bucky.” You say with more conviction, more confidently as you crash your lips on his.

“Your name is Bucky.” You whisper against his lips, feeling pleasure seeping in through your toes and spreading upwards.

The air is thick and hot, sticky and wet as you both catch your breaths.

You don’t trust your own legs to hold you weight, but when they hit the solid marble floor, you don’t have a choice.

“My name is Bucky,” he whispers, holding your face in one hand.

“But you are still my Bunny.”

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucksfucks writes — [♡] ;#dark!bucky smut #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #tw dubious consent #tw dubcon

3K notes · View notes

pantoneyoongi · 3 years ago

Text

05 || target in february

series ; in love with love (with you) description ; you’re a romantic. jungkook? jungkook is not.

chapter 05 ; target in february prev || next

word count ; 2.9k

tags ; it starts off good but then we get baby angst, jungkook says some mean things but it’s not on purpose, pls go to main masterlist for more / general tags

(p.s. i was going to release this tomorrow but.. happy birthday 🖤 anon, i hope u have a good one. thank u for always dropping into my inbox to ask about my day and make sure i’m doing okay 💕)

“how many advils can someone take before it’s detrimental to their health?”

jaehyun opens his mouth but only air escapes him when he sees the state you’re in. he grimaces a little. “whatever it says on the bottle?” he doesn’t say it so much as he asks.

“six,” jungkook stretches an arm past jaehyun to set a cup down on your desk. “in 24 hours. but i think you just have a sugar addiction that needs to be fed right about now.” he tilts his chin toward the cup.

you squint at him. “you get the wrong order for jaehyun again?”

jaehyun frowns. “when-”

jungkook kicks him in the shin and jaehyun chokes a little, but you don’t notice because jungkook is talking over jaehyun’s pain, saying, “it’s presentation day for you, isn’t it?”

“it is,” you wrap your hands around the cup, decidedly not questioning jungkook’s generosity. you have bigger things to worry about. “in two hours.”

“i’ll be there too,” jungkook says. he means it reassuringly, and for some reason, it works. you glance up at him and he smiles, a small, soft one - not the cheeky one he always gives you, just a gentle curl of his lips, warm brown eyes promising he’ll support you.

your heart fumbles in your chest at the sight. the fact that jungkook has any kind of pull on your heart has you going into full mentally avoidant lockdown mode, mind quickly flipping through flash cards of excuses to find the fastest way to get rid of jungkook and think of literally anything else instead.

“well,” you turn back to your computer. “i should prepare for the presentation. see y’all in two hours.” your voice is a clear indication that they should get the fuck out of your cubicle, and both jungkook and jaehyun take the hint to leave, good luck wishes murmured as they depart.

you slump in your seat as soon as they’re out of sight. your fingers tap with nervous energy against your desk, eyes falling onto the cup of hot chocolate jungkook had brought you.

it was thoughtful of him to bring it to you. especially on the day you need to make your presentation, knowing it’d bring you some comfort. you bicker so often with jungkook that you forget that he can be extraordinarily attentive when he wants to, remembering the little things and carrying through when it matters most.

your finger idly traces the logo to the shop he’d bought the hot chocolate from. it’s from a place a little further down than the usual cafe the people in your office tend to visit, meaning jungkook went out of his way just to get it for you because he knows you like that one better.

nope. no. you’re not traveling down that train of thought, because it’s dangerous and jungkook has been a general nuisance in your life for forever, and that is how you plan on keeping it, sweet gestures be damned.

except now your thoughts are floating in the opposite direction, wondering who it was jungkook had dinner with the night that he usually spends with you. you scold yourself for the bitter feeling that sneaks its way in, how terribly nosy you feel for wanting to know who was so important that jungkook - who’s never missed a thursday dinner with you since he started it, not unless he was out sick - would ditch you on a night that has, somehow, become yours and his.

you sigh, one hand reaching up, about to run your hand through your hair before you forcibly lower it back to the table so you don’t mess up your hair before your big presentation.

this is stupid. it’s just one night, and jungkook has never been obligated to spend it with you, he just does because you’re friends and that’s what friends do.

your eyes land on the hot chocolate again. your lips twist, ultimately turning into a tiny smile. jungkook might have the meeting invite sitting in his inbox but you know from the sincere look on his face and the cup on your table that it was never about the meeting reminders in his calendar. he brought the drink two hours before your meeting just to reassure you; remembered to swing by the better cafe just for you.

it makes it hard to feel too left out when jungkook has always made a point to remind you that he thinks of you when it counts the most.

you’re fuming. jungkook can tell, because while your smile is polite, your eyes are sharp, dark. director lee has a wide grin plastered across his face that jungkook can tell you’d love to slap right off.

but you’ve never been the type to make a commotion. you won’t speak up, even though you presented the entire deck only to have director lee swipe all your achievements from under you in the very last minute, thanking you only for presenting the data while snatching the work’s credit for himself.

even your juniors are in disbelief. one looks like they’ll speak up but your eyes snap to them and jungkook can see the way the analyst metaphorically sits back down immediately. do not disrupt this meeting; you will get your ass handed right back to you by management. they’re happy with the project. that’s good enough.

it’s not. it’s not enough. not for jungkook.

“any questions?” you smile sweetly when director lee is done. for someone who so frequently has her heart on her sleeve, you do an impeccable job of hiding the way you want to hurl director lee out the closest window.

jungkook raises his hand.

your eyes flit to him. you hold a silent conversation for less than three seconds - you demanding that he put his hand back down; jungkook defiantly keeping it held up.

“yes, jungkook?”

if he wasn’t trying to have your back right now, he’d snicker at the underlying hiss in your tone that only years of friendship could detect.

jungkook lowers his hand. he straightens in his seat, arms folding across the table. “i don’t have a question, per say,” he starts, and he can feel your irritation rise. “but, i just wanted to point out and say thank you for the collaboration between our teams. it was a group effort but i think we can all agree that you spearheaded the program and handled every road bump with nuance and grace. the overtime you did to make sure everything was in order has not gone unnoticed from our end so i hope our directors with us today can recognize that too. so thank you, y/n.”

you blink at him. he stares pointedly back and you kick back into gear, nodding and murmuring your thank you’s back, a standard corporate spiel about being grateful for working together with a good team. when you sit back down for the next team to continue presenting their end of the project, your eyes glance up to meet jungkook’s from across the table.

he smiles. you smile back.

it’s enough.

“you’re not serious,” jisoo gapes at you as you retell the story with animated hand gestures. jungkook can practically see the steam coming out of your ears now that you’re no longer at work, free to shit-talk all you want. your vacation hours are finally kicking in - starting from today, you officially have two weeks to just relax.

starting with ragging on your sad excuse of a director.

you’re all at yoongi’s place this time, crowded into his apartment. jimin is passed out on the couch in spite of how loud you’re being, taehyung and jisoo being your willing listeners, cursing out your director with you.

jungkook stares fondly from the kitchen. yoongi and jin are helping to get drinks, an assortment of snacks laid out on the kitchen counter. jungkook is supposed to be helping too but he’s too busy watching you pout at jisoo so she’ll coo and squish your cheeks, telling you that you did a good job and you’ve worked hard.

yoongi is placing the mugs on a tray, grabbing a can of whipped cream and shaking it. “oh-” jungkook stops him with a hand on his arm, yoongi glancing over in confusion.

jungkook grabs a handful of mini marshmallows out of the bag jin left on the counter. he sprinkles them into the mug of hot chocolate yoongi had made for you, then pats his hands off on his jeans.

yoongi stares at him.

“what?” jungkook shrugs. “she likes it.”

a corner of yoongi’s lips twitch upwards into a smirk, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “sure,” yoongi says agreeably. he finishes off various toppings on the others’ drinks, hauling the tray up to carry it out into the living room. hoseok emerges from the bathroom and goes to help, jin moving to stand beside jungkook in the kitchen, watching their group of friends as you all receive your drinks.

jin eyes jungkook with amusement at the way jungkook grins when you light up, seeing the mini marshmallows decorating your hot chocolate. you beam so brightly at yoongi, so easily excited by something as simple as a winter drink.

jungkook exits the kitchen to settle into the spot next to you on the ground, holding his own cup. “mini marshmallows,” you tip the cup towards him slightly, eyes crinkling happily in the corners. “just how i like it. yoongi always remembers the little things.”

just like that, jungkook’s smile drops. but your attention is already elsewhere, stolen by jimin who is waking up on the couch.

he doesn’t know why it bothers him. and because he doesn’t know why, he also can’t bring himself to correct you - that it’s not yoongi who remembered, it’s him. it’s not yoongi that knows the little things about you, it’s him. it’s not yoongi that’s next to you, it’s him. the feeling sits uncomfortably in his chest, eyebrows pinching together as he frowns.

jisoo spots him and beckons him over, jungkook scooting across the hardwood to sit near her. “something wrong, kookie?” she asks, but there’s too much of a knowing look on her face. his frown deepens.

“there’s nothing wrong,” he mumbles but he sounds like a child whose favorite toy got taken away and jisoo has to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

“it’s okay to be jealous, you know,” she means it sincerely, even if there is the slightest teasing tone to it.

“i’m not jealous,” jungkook says defensively, even as he’s glancing over his shoulder to find you still seated on the ground but with your arms crossed on the couch as you lean forward and prop your head on your arms to talk to a still sleepy jimin. a twinge runs through him when jimin pats your head.

“i’m not,” jungkook repeats, even though jisoo had said nothing in return. jisoo hums noncommittally.

before jungkook can dig himself a deeper hole, hoseok is clapping in a kindergarten pattern. instinctively everyone stops talking, taehyung repeating the claps and earning him a snicker from jimin. “yoongi has news,” hoseok says proudly when he has everyone’s attention. yoongi clears his throat, looking embarrassed.

“i… have a date to this year’s gala,” he says, eyes slowly lifting to glance around the room for your reactions.

it’s chaos instantly. jimin is scrambling off the couch to tackle yoongi for information, yoongi complaining loudly at the bombardment. but jungkook’s not looking at jimin or yoongi, he’s looking at you.

jungkook always thought your crush on yoongi was just that: a crush. starry-eyed, silly, nothing substantial. puppy love, at most. he figured it was always about the fantasy of it all more than anything else - your brother’s best friend, a cute story that spanned over a decade of your life.

but maybe there was a part of him that didn’t want to believe it. you couldn’t actually be in love - right? he’d seen you in love before. he’d seen the boys you carefully lent your heart out to - even watched them shatter it, feeling like his hands were tied every time, unable to help you. because you loved love, and they never did. love you, or love.

yoongi was only supposed to be a pipe dream. a representation of all the movies you watched, the books you read, the shows you’ve seen. a dream - not the reality.

so why did you freeze?

why did your eyes widen just a millimeter?

why did you force a smile on your face, holler out congratulations with the rest of your friends, then quietly excuse yourself, disappearing in the midst of all the excitement?

jungkook has known you for over a decade. might even know you better than most of your other friends - you’re the same age, went to the same college, work in the same office. he’s been with you every step of the way. so he knows that you’re the kind to light up at the idea of a new relationship in the friend group. seeing your friends happy - it beat out every rom-com you ever watched, every happy ending to every drama you’d ever cried over. it didn’t matter if your friends were in relationships or not - you bounced around at every accomplishment, excited for every move your friends made that took them a step closer to what they wanted.

yoongi looked happy. so why weren’t you?

the gathering ends with loud choruses of goodbyes as you all leave yoongi’s apartment. yoongi looks tired but happy, pleased by the supportive reactions his friends gave to the announcement of his not-anymore-secret girlfriend. when you say good night to him, yoongi smiles gently down at you, ruffling your hair.

“thanks for always rooting for romance, kid,” he says, for only you to hear, but jungkook catches it as he stands waiting outside yoongi’s doorway for you. “i don’t think you realize how much it helps when the people around you refuse to stop believing in love, in whichever form it takes.”

it’s supposed to be comforting, but jungkook can tell from the way your smile doesn’t reach your eyes that you don’t know that. his heart aches at the sight. it’s not yoongi’s fault, he knows, that your feelings aren’t reciprocated. yoongi’s done everything short of embarrassing you by saying out loud that he doesn’t see you as anything but a little sister to show you that he doesn’t return your feelings. he’s always drawn the line firm and bold between you and him, even had girlfriends before, but today is the first time jungkook’s ever seen it affect you the way it did.

he steps into view then, yoongi’s eyes shifting to meet his. you don’t even look at jungkook when you turn to leave, trudging away. yoongi sighs quietly. “get her home safe, kook,” he says simply, and jungkook nods in return, slowly.

it doesn’t take long for jungkook to catch up to you. the subway ride back is silent. you hop off the train in silence too, hands tucked into your pockets, shoulders a little hunched. jungkook follows after you, hesitant, as he falls into step beside you. he wishes he could tell what was going on in your mind.

“i didn’t know you actually liked him,” jungkook finally says, quietly, breaking the silence.

you whip your head to look at him so fast you’re surprised you don’t injure yourself. “of course i fucking liked him, jungkook, what the fuck did you think i meant when i said it all those times and made it so stupidly obvious?”

jungkook sputters at the fierce reaction, waving his hands around in jerky, awkward movements. “i don’t know, i just - i thought you were just being you! a romantic! the inside of your brain is probably identical to a target in february at all times so i just - i mean, y/n, we all knew he doesn’t even like you!”

he throws his hands up in exasperation. doesn’t realize that he should stop talking, stop talking now, but - “he doesn’t even care! he doesn’t give a shit about - oh, fuck,” jungkook curses when he sees the tears rise to your eyes, and he quickly starts babbling, desperately backtracking. “i didn’t mean it like that. fuck, wait - y/n, that’s not what i -”

jungkook exhales heavily, scrubbing his hand across his face. “fuck. please, don’t cry. i didn’t mean to make you cry.” he holds your shoulders gently, hands moving slowly to cradle your face. “i didn’t mean it like that. he does care about you, y/n. but not like you do. not the way you want him to.” his voice is soft, softer than you’ve ever heard jungkook speak before.

yet somehow, the words he says feel like the worst things he’s ever spoken to you.

the tears slip from your eyes, and jungkook’s shoulder deflate. he looks defeated, thumbs coming to wipe away your tears gently. jungkook doesn’t know what to do with girls like you. girls who feel too much, who cry so easily, who love so fiercely. he doesn’t know how to handle all of your emotions, not when they sit heavy in his chest, to see you crying over someone who doesn’t love you, yet again. he can’t bear to watch you stare at him with your hurt feelings refracting in your eyes, so he swallows hard and pulls you in close, smoothing his palm across your back. he tucks your head under his chin, closing his eyes when your hands curl around his coat, clinging to him.

“i’m sorry,” he murmurs. “i’m sorry, y/n.”

prev || next || series masterlist

taglist ; @ahundredtimesover @nadzzzblog @apollukee @codeinebelle @yoongimentita7

#jungkook x you #jungkook x yn #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #series: ilwl

123 notes · View notes