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luveline · 8 months

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𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here

cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar.

You see both sides of him now.

“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince.

“Hello,” you call back.

The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?”

“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!”

“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step.

“Shit, you wanna see?”

You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.

He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin.

“Another bat?” you ask.

“Not cool?”

“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?”

“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?”

You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre.

The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him.

“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes.

“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands.

“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically.

You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch.

“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says.

“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways.

“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”

“You don’t wanna line up?”

“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that.

“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.”

“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.”

You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained.

Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms.

“You okay?” he asks.

You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move.

“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”

“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.”

“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.

He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long.

“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.”

You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.”

You pull your head up slowly.

He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours.

Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter.

You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his.

With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.

You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation.

Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath.

“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable.

You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth.

“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?”

“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.”

This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers.

His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop.

“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.”

“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.”

He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”

You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips.

“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.”

He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour.

You breathe out happily. “Thank you.”

“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.”

You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it.

“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.”

You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson lives

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lizardsskintattoo · 1 year

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Here Are A Few Tips On Lip Tattooing

Looking for the best lip tattoo in Kolkata? Get valuable tips on lip tattooing and enhance your knowledge before choosing the perfect lip tattoo artist for a stunning result.

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tender-rosiey · 9 months

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how would modern day sukuna be like a father? :o

nerves — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: no curses au, lovelies! thank you for being so patient MWUAH and of course, merry christmas to everyone who celebrates it!

when one thinks of sukuna, one thinks of a broad muscular man covered in tattoos with a sharp jawline and an even sharper tongue punching the hell out of anyone.

you never think of the same man carrying a pink glittery bag and his own little pretty princess.

“do you have your lunch box?”

“yup!”

he quirks an eyebrow, “you sure?”

your daughter nods excitedly before looking over her dad’s shoulder. she grins when she finally sees you and excitedly calls you over, “mama! ‘morning!”

a smile instantly appears you on your face as you make your way towards your little sweetheart, “good morning, baby!”

you take her into your arms—ignoring your husband—and you kiss her cheek, “you excited for your first day of school?”

“mhm!” she gasped suddenly, “mama, look at my hair! papa made it for me!” she giggles, proudly showing off her ponytail.

you look with a knowing look and a small smile at your husband.

sukuna frowns and looks away, “it was easy anyway,” he then glares at you, “don’t make a big deal out of it.”

you giggle and pad your way towards him, resting your arm on his shoulder and gently kissing his lips, “it’s a really cute deal, though.”

you lightly bounce your daughter in your other arm, “right, d/n?”

“yeah! papa is the best!” she cheers, hugging him tightly.

your husband groans, but—nonetheless—his arms are wrapped around you two, “you two are such drama queens.”

he leans slightly, mouth near your ear as he whispers, “you better give me a proper fucking kiss when we drop the brat off.”

you gasp lightly and smack his shoulder, “watch your language!” you watch him scrunch his face—most likely about to sass you—so you press a quick kiss to your daughter’s cheek then your husband’s.

you then push them through the door with a nervous smile, “okay, bye! have a great time and don’t forget that mama loves you!”

“I love you too, mama!”

of course, you would’ve loved to accompany your daughter to school, especially on her first day, but the darn office just happened to call for you right now.

sukuna knows that, and so does your cute daughter, so there is a reason why they were both so reluctant to leave.

anyway, back to the present.

your husband’s frown is still evident as he is robbed yet again from a ‘proper’ kiss. he picks your daughter up easily and then throws her in the car.

she, as always, finds it funny and starts laughing her little butt off. sukuna rolls his eyes, and gets into the car himself.

he puts on the playlist that your daughter made herself, and finally starts the car. the ride is quiet, if you don’t count the singing and screaming of your daughter.

of course, sukuna can’t do anything about it—even if he knows that he doesn’t want her to stop in the first place.

the school isn’t that far away anyway, so they reach it in no time. your husband skilfully parks in front of the gate and takes his seatbelt off.

he doesn’t hear hurried unbuckling of a belt or nonstop squealing and fidgeting, so he looks at his daughter, “what’s up?”

she fidgets with the hem of her shirt then speaks up, softly, “I am—scared.”

he furrows his eyebrow, turning his entire body towards her, “huh? why? you were so excited with your mom earlier and you were screaming my ear off about it yesterday.”

“I know,” she murmurs then frowns, “…but what if people don’t like me?”

sukuna is stunned for a moment. he isn’t the one to normally deal with your daughter whenever she needed deep or meaningful emotional advice.

that was what you did, especially since you are able to read your daughter pretty well.

but he tries his best cause he would be damned if he isn’t the best father. his hand is placed on her head, albeit a bit roughly.

she whines, “papa, my hair!”

he takes a moment, “I…” he starts then quietens down for a second, and even then, you’re daughter is looking intently at him.

he then looks at her again, “they will love you. you’re a good kid."

your daughter’s eyes widen at her dad’s unfiltered compliment. she beams, quickly unbuckling her belt and throwing herself into his arms.

her smile is so wide it almost hurts her, but her heart feels so full because of her dad’s praise that she couldn’t care about anything other than him.

he slowly starts patting her head, “and if someone bothers you, I will just beat them up.”

“mama said no violence!” your daughter scolds and almost on cue, your face appears on the screen: you’re calling!

looks like you managed to squeeze in some time to check up on her. your daughter swiftly presses on answer and chirps, “hi mama!”

“hi baby! why are you not in school yet?” you question, eyes darting towards your husband, questioning.

“papa wanted to get some food first, so we just arrived!”

sukuna is—internally—flabbergasted. this liar. he is about to interject, but then he ponders about it for a moment: maybe she doesn’t want you to see her hesitant about the whole school thing.

maybe she wants to appear strong—with no weak points—in front of her mother. then he breathes out a chuckle, at least she takes after him in something.

“sukuna! she could’ve been late!” you huff then sigh, “good thing that you guys moved early anyway.”

your eyes then focus on your daughter, “how’re you feeling?”

“excited!”

“any nerves or anything?” you ask knowingly, but she shakes her head.

she hugs sukuna tighter, “I was a little nervous, but papa made me feel better!”

you grin, “did he now?”

he notices the teasing glint behind your eyes and looks away to avoid your gaze. your daughter giggles at her dad’s behaviour, and so do you.

and your husband has never felt more teamed up on than now. she hears the bell rings, “oh! I gotta go now!”

“bye papa!” she kisses her dad’s cheek, “bye mama!” then kisses the phone’s screen. you blow her a kiss back, and she dashes out of the car, ready to start her day.

even while walking towards the building, she turns again to her dad and waves at him happily.

sukuna nods and she grins, switching her focus back on the school. his focus is on her intently, until you speak up, “I am proud of you.”

his gaze snaps to you, expecting a teasing smirk, but instead you’re smiling warmly at him. his heart contracts in a way that makes him feel weird, and he can’t find it in him to give you a snarky reply.

he groans, “she is my daughter as much as she is yours, y’know.”

you hum, “of course, she is,” he hears rustling on the other line, so he assumes you’re checking some papers before turning to him again, “she takes after you in more ways than one.”

“yeah, I noticed,” he says quietly, and you laugh.

he notices from the corner of his eyes his daughter laughing excitedly with a bunch of others girls, and he lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

you tap on your desk a little, “you nervous?”

“if someone hurts her, I will kill them.”

“I figured."

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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aikastales · 6 months

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burnout (jk)

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: jeon jungkook asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend in order to get back at his ex-girlfriend. however, you soon realize his true intentions.

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: bball player!jungkook x student journalist fem!reader

𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾𝗌: yandere, dark romance, slow burn

total word count: 10k

PART ONE

Why was Jeon Jungkook at the Communications building?

He had a red and white leather jacket on top of a white shirt, jeans, and his black combat boots. His long hair was a mess, which you guessed was due to his helmet, and when he saw you walking down the steps of the building, he perked up, smiled, and waved at you.

At first, you weren’t even sure if it was you he was waving at, so you were a bit stunned, and looked over your shoulder. But then, you heard your name called by him. You and Jungkook were not friends. Sure, you exchanged friendly nods at each other whenever your paths would cross, but that was the end of it. In fact, the only reason why you even exchanged those friendly nods was because of Taehyung—your cousin who also happened to be his best friend since preschool. If it wasn’t for him, you and Jungkook would just pass by each other without so much as a glance.

And so, it was only natural that you were confused and surprised when you saw him leaning against his motorcycle in front of your college’s building, apparently waiting for you.

“Y/N, hey,” Jungkook greeted with a smile on his handsome face once he was near you.

Still confused, you returned the smile, adjusting the strap of your backpack hanging over your shoulder. “Hi, Jungkook. Is everything okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, everything is—everything’s fine,” he said. Then, he cleared his throat. “Do you have time like right now? My treat.” He asked, his doe eyes piercing into yours.

You could not believe what you just heard. “What?” Was all you could reply.

Jungkook chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his gloved hand. “I know. It’s a shock, right? Believe me, I am too, but I just really need to talk to you about something. I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t so important.”

“Is it about Taehyung? Is he okay? Did he get into trouble?” You asked, alert. It was the only logical answer why Jungkook waited for you and why he wanted to talk to you. Taehyung was the only person connecting the both of you.

Jungkook shook his head. “No, no, it’s not about Taehyung, but he’s fine. He’s in his class right now. Look,” he sighed deeply, licking his lower lip with the tip of his tongue before staring at you once more. “Yiseul, I just really need to talk to you. In private.”

You debated whether to go with him or not. This was Jeon Jungkook. Despite his tattoos, broad shoulders, piercings, and big bike—he was harmless. He was your cousin’s best friend, and even though you two weren’t friends, he looked like he needed one at the moment. Besides, you wouldn’t deny that a part of you wasn’t curious as to why he needed to talk to you. That and the fact that because you had been in love with him since you met him when you were thirteen, how could you say no to something that you had only imagined in your wildest dreams?

“Okay. Okay, let’s go,” you agreed, heart beating rapidly. “Where are we going?”

Jungkook’s smile widened when you agreed. “There’s a basement cafe twenty minutes from here. It’s called Seven.”

The both of you began making your way towards his motorcycle. “Just how private is this conversation going to be?” you asked supposedly only for yourself, but accidentally, you said it out loud.

“I guess you already have an idea on how private it needs to be considering the location,” he chuckled. “But don’t worry—I promise you’ll get home in one piece.”

Jungkook handed you his extra helmet, and you were thankful that you didn’t wear a dress that day. After placing your backpack in front of your chest, you wore the helmet. “Can you give me a hint on what it’s about?”

You couldn’t help it. You were curious.

“I remember you always being curious, Y/N. Glad you haven’t changed at all,” Jungkook said, mounting his motorcycle. “In twenty minutes, you’ll know. If you ride now, you’ll know in fifteen minutes.”

You thought he looked so attractive as he smiled and waited for you on his motorcycle. His smile was so infectious that you couldn’t help but to return it. “Alright, fine,” you say. Then, you mounted his motorcycle, placing your hands on his firm shoulders.

“Ready?” Jungkook asked, placing his key into the ignition, briefly glancing at you.

“Yeah, ready,” you replied. He started the engine and you held onto your backpack for dear life. You had seen Jungkook drive his motorcycle before and the only way you could describe it was fast.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Jungkook drove off.

As promised, fifteen minutes later, you arrived at Seven. It was indeed a basement cafe, secluded from the busy city streets and tucked in between fruit stands and ready-to-wear clothes inside an alley. You were the first to get off his motorcycle, taking your helmet off. Shaking your head, you took in your surroundings while Jungkook took his motorcycle garments off.

The alley was alive with mostly elderly people buying fruits and high schoolers buying the RTWs. The tangerines stood out due to their bright color against the setting sun. You wondered when and how Jungkook came to know the place, if he frequented it, why he chose this place over all other cafes.

“Y/N? Let’s go inside?” Jungkook asked, gesturing to you to enter the cafe first.

You nodded, entering Seven. As a basement cafe, the first thing you noticed were the windows placed near the ceiling. A permanent sepia hue covered the entire establishment due to its yellow orange lights. The walls were painted gray, tables and chairs white. There were only a few tables and chairs, and Jungkook led the way to the one at the very back.

He pulled the chair out of you which you thanked him for, and you sat down. Jungkook followed afterwards, placing the helmets on the table between the both of you.

“What do you want?” He asked, pulling his chair closer to the table.

“Honestly, I’m more curious on why you want to talk to me than have any drinks here,” you told him, placing your backpack on the floor beside your chair.

Jungkook chuckled, leaning his back against his chair. “Alright. Should I just say it?”

You nodded.

“I was hoping that you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend to make Haemin jealous,” Jungkook said so casually that you were completely and utterly stunned. Did you just hear him correctly? Upon seeing your reaction, he continued, “She broke up with me a month ago, and to be honest, I saw it coming already. We were getting into a lot of meaningless fights, always finding faults in one another, and just overall, being toxic to each other. So, when she broke up with me, I did not put up a fight, and just let her be,” Jungkook scoffed, shaking his head lightly. “Then, I learned that she was seeing Han Riyeo, that fucking bastard from Yongsan, behind my back for three months, and I want to get back at her.”

His explanation did not help you grasp what he just said previously. You were still stunned, but you managed to ask, “Why me?”

“For reasons I still don’t know, Haemin was always jealous of you,” he confessed.

Now, that was a surprise. “What? You and I barely had any interaction.”

“I know, but I suspect it’s because you’re there whenever I hang out with Taehyung,” Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, then ran his fingers through his hair. “So? Will you help me, Y/N?”

“This is pretty childish, don’t you think?” you told him, eyebrows furrowed.

Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll pay you. I know you need the money. Taehyung mentioned you’re saving for the deposit on this apartment you want to rent.”

You stared at him, trying to find any trace of mischief in his eyes and body language but found none. Jungkook was serious. A part of you knew that the logical answer would be to decline his offer. It was childish, as you had told him. It was a nuisance and it would do nothing but bring problems and complications in your life. Your life was complicated enough, and you didn’t need to add Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend to your list of complications.

But this was Jeon Jungkook. The person you had been in love with since you were thirteen. The person you supported, cheered on, and loved unconditionally from afar because it was all that you could do. You would be lying if you said that you did not imagine yourself being his girlfriend—going to every game, wearing his jersey, riding his motorcycle, going on dates, taking lots of photos and videos of him, hugging, and even kissing him—because you did, countless times. You would also be lying if you didn’t think that you could love him better than Haemin ever did.

They said love makes you do crazy things. You didn’t think that applied to you. You loved Jeon Jungkook, and you didn’t think that that love would fade anytime soon. So, even though you knew that this was pretend and paid, you said, “Okay. I’ll do it.”

After your orders arrived, the both of you continued your conversation.

“So, how will this work?” you asked, sipping your iced chocolate drink.

Jungkook put up a finger, chewing the cheeseburger he ordered, and afterwards, he replied, “We act like a couple. Go on dates, post them on social media, and all that.”

You were never someone who did things half-assed. If you were going to get paid to fake date someone, you might as well go all out. Also, perhaps, a part of you just wanted to make the most out of being Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend.

“I don’t think that would be enough to make Haemin jealous. If you really want that, we should do the things you either only did with her or promised to do with her,” you pointed out.

Jungkook nodded. “I see. You got a point.”

“So, what are those things? The things you did for her and the things you promised to do with her?”

He inhaled deeply, scratching the side of his nose as he thought. “Well, I pick her up everyday. Take her out on picnic dates, study with her, and I go to her recitals.”

You nodded. “Okay. Then, you should pick me up everyday, take me out on picnic dates, study with me, and well, I don’t really do any recitals.”

“Alright. I’ll do that,” Jungkook grinned. “As for the things I promised to do with her—the first thing that popped in my mind was that I promised I’ll take her to my brother’s wedding.”

“We shouldn’t involve our families in this. Me being Taehyung’s cousin is complicated enough,” you remarked.

“Okay. How about this? We made plans to go out of town during winter break. Do you wanna do that?”

“Where?”

“My sister-in-law runs a small resort in Busan. It’s by the beach,”

You pressed your lips together, nodding. “Okay. That could work.”

“For my part, you have to go to my games. That’s pretty much all you have to do, and of course, the dates.”

“That’s already a given,” you told him. “I’m assigned to cover your games this season.”

“Right. You are the News editor of the Times. I’m honored,” Jungkook placed a hand on his chest, bowing his head at you.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I have a question.”

“Go for it.”

“What will happen when Haemin gets jealous? Will we “break up” and the two of you will get back together?” you asked, cautiously, but also curiously.

“I have no plans of getting back together with her,” Jungkook answered. “But when she finally gets jealous and tells me about it, then revenge is served. I guess then we’ll break up. But don’t worry, I’ll pay you handsomely every time so you could move into that apartment of yours. It’s the least I could do after you agreed to do this with me.”

It shouldn’t have stung the way it did. After all, this was only paid and pretend, but it did.

“Alright,” you said. “We should shake hands on it.”

You extended your hand toward him and Jungkook sealed the deal with his firm handshake. “Starting today, you’re my girl, Y/N.”

You would be the first to admit that looking after Kim Taehyung was something you did out of debt of gratitude toward his parents. After your father passed away when you were only eleven years old, your mother couldn’t afford to send you to school, so his parents financed your education since then and until now that you were in college. You lived with Taehyung at the condominium they bought for him near the university and since you were on scholarship through your membership at the official student publication of Jamsil University, The Jamsil Times, they only paid for your miscellaneous fees every semester.

Because of these, you felt like Taehyung was your responsibility. You had to take care of him, look after him, tutor him, make sure he did all his school work, attend his classes, and be there every time he asked you to. It felt like when it came to him and his parents, you couldn’t say no because if you did, you could easily lose your housing and education.

It didn’t help that Taehyung seemed to attract trouble wherever he was. He even gained a nickname for it in high school which followed him in college, “Trouble Taehyung.” You couldn’t remember the times you apologized on his behalf, woke up in the middle of the night from a call from one of his so-called friends asking if you could pick him up as he was drunk and bruised, and ensured none of his troubles reached his parents.

Tonight was no different.

You woke up from the sound of your phone vibrating against your desk. You didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep, studying for your upcoming midterms exam, and when you woke up, you could feel the soreness of your neck and lower back. With one eye open, your vision adjusted to the bright light coming from your phone, and saw Park Jimin’s name flashing on your screen. Immediately, you knew why he was calling you. There could only be one reason: Kim Taehyung.

“Hello?” your voice was hoarse, groggy from your slumber.

“Y/N? I’m sorry I woke you up, didn’t I? It’s—,”

“Taehyung, I know. What happened this time?” you sighed deeply, rubbing your face with your free hand. “Where are you guys?”

“He got into an argument with this guy, and well, it led to a fight. He’s bruised, bleeding, but he refuses to go to a hospital, but—,”

“Hey! Is that Y/N? I told you not to call her, Park Jimin!” you could hear Taehyung’s voice in the background which made you sigh once more. Moments later, it was Taehyung who was on the call with you. “Y/N, sorry. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Jimin’s just a worry wart.”

“Taehyung,” you were tired and it was evident in your tone. “Go to the hospital if you’re bleeding. It might get infected.”

“I can’t,” he replied. “Mom is going to find out. It’s a small world, you know that,” his tone was low, cautious, as though he did not want anyone else hearing him. “I’m fine. I’ll put on some ointment and band-aid and I’m good.”

You wished you didn’t give a shit about him. But you did. Whether it was out of debt of gratitude or not, you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t help him. Perhaps, you had gotten so used to it that it had become a part of you already, like a hobby, like a memory.

“Where are you, Taehyung?”

“Y/N, seriously, I’m—,”

“Taehyung, just tell me where you are,” your patience was wearing thin and Taehyung knew that.

“We’re at Jungkook’s apartment,” he muttered.

Even the mention of his name was enough for the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. Even by just hearing his name, your irritation seemed to slowly fade away.

“Okay. I’ll be there in a while. I’m gonna use your car, okay?”

“Okay. Y/N, I’m sorry,” Taehyung apologized and you could hear his sincerity.

“Don’t be,” you told him as you stood up from your chair. “See you. I’ll hang up now.”

Just how deep does blood run?

You were at Jungkook’s apartment minutes later, thanks to no traffic and him only living fifteen minutes from Taehyung’s condominium. When you rang the bell to his unit, you already expected that he would be the one to answer the door. You just didn’t expect that he would be wearing gray sweatpants and a white loose muscle tee showing off his toned tattooed arm. Seeing him in that light, you couldn’t help but feel more attracted to him. Jungkook was truly a sight to see.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile. “Come inside.”

“Thanks,” you told him, entering his apartment. It was simple, neat, and smelled of vanilla. You took off your shoes by the doorway, placing a hand on the wall beside you. “Where’s Taehyung?”

“Kitchen,” he replied behind you. “Y/N,” his hot breath fanned over your exposed neck, making you shiver. “I’ll linger around you, alright? That way, they could get a hint that something’s going on with us. Is that okay?” he whispered.

His low tone was simply mesmerizing. “Okay,” you breathed out. Thank god you had your hand on that wall otherwise you would have literally fallen.

“Okay,” he chuckled, and led the way to the kitchen.

“Y/N!” Taehyung exclaimed when he saw you. He was sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen island while Jimin looked through the refrigerator.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and made your way toward him, placing the plastic bag you hand in your hand on the counter beside you. Taehyung jumped off the stool he was sitting on, instantly giving you a squeezing hug. He was always an affectionate boy growing up. You weren’t so you found it uncomfortable at first. But the more Taehyung did it, you got used to it.

“Let me see your bruise,” you guided him back to the stool, and began taking out the first aid you bought along the way. The bruise wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. You were expecting that he would have a black eye, a deep cut that would need stitches, but it was manageable by you. Jimin was overreacting, you concluded. “What happened? How did you get this?”

As you began to clean the cut on Taehyung’s cheek, Jimin sat down across from your cousin while Jungkook made his way near you.

“One minute I was dancing next to some girl, the next, her boyfriend landed a punch on my face. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend—she told me she was single,” Taehyung explained.

“Didn’t know my ass,” Jimin scoffed. “Everyone knows Heejin is with Taemin. Everyone also knows that Taemin’s a crazy jealous bastard. You were just looking for trouble, as always.”

“I was not,” your cousin retorted, throwing the medical tape you bought at his friend.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance. “Stop it, you two,” you hissed, pressing the cotton ball a bit harder against Taehyung’s bruise. He winced. “Is that true?” you asked him.

Taehyung didn’t answer. You sighed.

“You knew it was wrong, and yet, you did it anyway knowing it’ll just get you in trouble,” you muttered. “Why did you do it?”

Taehyung sighed deeply. “Because Taemin’s a piece of shit.”

“You’re also a piece of shit,” Jimin snorted. “Both of you are the biggest pieces of shit at Jamsil.”

“Do you wanna get punched?”

“Let’s go right now,”

“Hey, stop it. You’re so fucking loud,” Jungkook reprimands the two bickering men. “You already woke me up from my sleep by going here. Don’t wake up the entire fucking building.”

Moments later, you finished tending to Taehyung’s cut. “All done. Come on, let’s go home.”

Taehyun didn’t protest. You began to clean up your mess, placing everything back into the plastic bag. Silence filled Jungkook’s kitchen. The three of you weren’t close so there were no conversations where all of you could participate.

“Let’s go,” you bowed your head at Jimin as a farewell which he returned. Then, your eye caught Jungkook’s gaze. You weren’t sure what to do. Fortunately, Jungkook was quick-witted.

“I’ll walk you guys out,” he said coolly, pushing himself off of the sink he was leaning against.

“No need. Just go back to sleep. Thanks for letting us in,” Taehyung shook his head, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he passed by him.

“I insist,” Jungkook responded.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Jimin asked Jungkook as he made his way out of the kitchen.

“Yeah sure,”

You followed Jungkook and Taehyung out of the former’s apartment. As you and your cousin slipped on your shoes, Jungkook waited outside his apartment.

“Are you mad at me?” Taehyung asked, meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you assured him. “But you have to stop involving and getting yourself into trouble, Tae. Sooner or later, you’ll end up getting really hurt.”

“I will, I promise,” he smiled at you and you nodded, exiting the apartment.

The three of you walked down the hallway; the two boys walking on your sides. You weren’t sure if Jungkook was consciously doing it, but it was making your heart pound. Whenever your fingers brushed against his, there was an electric shock that flew through your body. And as you reached the end of the hallway and in front of the elevator, and when the doors opened, Jungkook placed his hand at your lower back, gesturing you to enter the lift first.

You looked at him, and there was a knowing smile plastered on his face that made you blush. “After you,” he said.

You were fucking lovestruck.

Championships cast a spell in your school. Jamsil University’s premier sport was basketball and with an all-star lineup this year—it was not even up for discussion that your university would be one of the teams playing out to become this year’s champions.

To say the least, sports were not your thing. While you understood the basics, it wasn’t something you were interested in. Your father had enrolled you in a tennis class once but after witnessing how, simply out, awful you are at the sports, he dropped the ‘I want my daughter to be athletic’ narrative he was going for. That being said, you rarely attended any of the games Jamsil athletes participated in. But seeing as you were assigned to cover the basketball games this season, you had no other choice. Besides, your “boyfriend” was playing.

That’s how you found yourself at the gym of Jamsil, stressed as you took pictures and typed down the game on your phone. Frustrated, you sat on the bench behind you as the bell rang, signaling the end of the first half. As you read the draft on your notepad, you shook your head at the numerous times you used the word ‘tackle’—in your defense, it was all that you could see during the game. It was a particularly brutal game which made you wonder, was the game something more personal for the players? You only heard rumors, after all.

With a sigh, you made a mental note to fix the notes once you’re home. Standing up, you placed the phone inside your jeans’ back pocket and readied the Times’ camera to capture the ‘Half-time huddle’ that Bang Chan, the Sports Editor, had specifically asked you to take. As you made your way towards the basketball team, you took some shots of the audience as well as the Jamsil’s Cheerleading Team performing in the middle of the court. The blaring music and loud cheers from both schools as the cheerleaders performed filled the entire gymnasium, unconsciously making you smile. It was not everyday that you saw some sort of unity at your uni.

You focused your camera on the huddled team of Jamsil but dissatisfied, you tried another angle. Bang Chan’s words play in your mind: “The half-time huddle is one of the most important shots during these games, Y/N. The play they’re setting up will either make them or break them. Make sure you capture it.”

Then, the idea hit you. You hurriedly made your way on the other side of the team, hearing Coach Song’s booming voice telling his players the game even with all the screaming and cheers. You moved the towels and water bottles on the bench aside, then you stepped on it and placed the camera above the huddled team. Smiling, you knew you found the perfect angle. Making sure that the camera was focused, you inhaled deeply and as you were about to click the shutter button—a face turned to face the lens and a gasp escaped your lips, shocked and you felt yourself losing balance. Bracing for impact, you clutched the camera tightly against your chest and closed your eyes with one thing in mind: If this breaks, I am so screwed.

It felt like eternity as you waited for the impact. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of round brown eyes, staring at you in concern, eyebrows furrowed. Your breath hitched in your throat as realization hit you. Around your waist, you felt strong arms supporting you; hot breath fanned your face and you felt something liquid dripping on your forehead.

“Y/N, are you okay?” When he spoke, you immediately snapped back to reality and you wriggled yourself out of his grip—flustered and ground-swallow-me-up embarrassed. Your cheeks were burning as you collected yourself. “Y/N?”

It was as if the entire gymnasium had their focus on you and Jungkook.

“Jeon, what the fuck, get back here,” Coach Song hissed.

Fuck me, you thought as you cleared your throat. “Thanks,” you whispered to him.

Jungkook smiled—the boyishly charming smile that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. Then, he did something that made you fall in love with him all over again.

“Wish me luck, babe,” Jungkook said before wrapping his tattooed arm around your waist and placing a kiss on your cheek. “The game’s on, Y/N. No turning back now.”

You wished this was real. His kiss was real. But even if it wasn’t, indeed, there was no turning back now. The game had begun.

PART TWO

As predicted and expected, Jamsil won the championship. But instead of the student body celebrating the fourth championship in a row, apparently, the majority could only talk about you and Jungkook—specifically the kiss he gave you on the cheek. You had expected this, of course. After all, Jeon Jungkook was Jamsil University’s golden boy. He was popular, smart, and overall, an exemplary student who not only excelled in his sports, but in his academics as well. Moreover, he was also the president of the photography club.

What you didn’t expect was Taehyung lashing out at you. You expected him to be confused, baffled, in disbelief, but lashing out at you? You were confused, to say the least. Taehyung had never done it before.

After finishing covering the basketball game, you hurriedly made your way back to the Publication Office. Once there, you took off the camera around your neck, breathing heavily. With both your hands on your table, you hung your head low, squeezing your eyes shut, and letting yourself calm down. It was during this moment that the door at the office swung open and your cousin stepped in.

You looked at him over your shoulder and for the first time, you saw fury in his eyes.

“You’re dating Jungkook?” He asked. “Tell me the truth.”

With your lips pressed tightly, you nodded. Taehyung scoffed, tilting his head to the side, and shaking it in disbelief.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N? You and Jungkook?” He pressed, taking a step towards you. “When did it start? How did it start? Why are you dating him?”

“I don’t really need to explain myself to you, Taehyung,” you told him. “Especially who I’m dating.”

“Yes, you do. You need to explain that to me,” he retorted.

“Why? Why do I need to explain it to you?”

“Because you’re dating my fucking best friend and you’re my cousin!” He exclaimed, catching you off guard as you flinched. When he saw this, Taehyung’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. I just—I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?” you asked, turning to completely face him. “Why someone like me is with someone like him?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I mean,” Taehyung sighed deeply. “I just feel like—like the two most important people in my life betrayed me.”

You exhaled deeply. In a way, you could understand him. You could understand where he was coming from. But before you could respond, Jungkook appeared by the doorway of the office.

“Don’t get mad at her, Tae, it’s my fault for not telling you first,” Jungkook said. He was still in his jersey, covered in sweat, and one hand holding a bottle of red Gatorade. There was a towel hanging around his neck. He walked towards you, and when he stood beside you, he held your hand. “I’m sorry if you feel like we betrayed you. We just wanted to find the right time to tell you.”

“Right time,” Taehyung scoffed once more. “It didn’t look like it when you kissed her.”

Jungkook squeezed your hand. It sent a jolt throughout your body. “What was I supposed to do? My girlfriend was there,” Jungkook’s response only riled Taehyung more. Upon seeing this, the basketball player said, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. But there’s nothing you could do or say that could make us break up, Tae. I’m sorry but you’re just gonna have to deal with it.”

“Can you fucking leave? I need to talk to Y/N privately,” Taehyung hissed, rolling his eyes.

This time, you cut Jungkook before he could reply. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’ll see you after.” You looked at your fake boyfriend, smiling at him.

Jungkook looked like he didn’t want to leave so you squeezed his hand. He clicked his tongue, sighing. “I’ll change and meet you outside the building.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.

You nodded and once again, he pressed his lips against your cheek, making you blush but now, out of embarrassment because your cousin was literally in front of you. Taehyung groaned, throwing his head back. “Leave, Jeon Jungkook!” He exclaimed, pulling him off of you.

Jungkook chuckled before making his way out of the office.

Once he was out of earshot, Taehyung stepped closer towards you. “Y/N, you’re right—who you date is not something I should mind or dictate. But you’re my cousin and I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt. Jungkook—he’s my best friend in the world and has been since we were little. I know him. So, the two of you together—I just can’t accept it.”

You didn’t know why you were feeling angry as the seconds passed. “We’re not asking for your blessing, Taehyung.”

“Y/N, you don’t understand. Jungkook may be charming and all that goody two shoes shit in front of everyone, but he’s trouble. You’re only setting yourself up for a lifetime of heartbreak,” your cousin shook his head. “Please. Date whoever you want; not just Jungkook.”

“I made up my mind, Tae,” you said, shaking your head. “I want to be with him and you can’t do anything about it. I’m gonna go home. I’m tired and exhausted. I know you’ll be going to the afterparty so please don’t get yourself into trouble. Take care, Tae.”

“Y/N,” he called out but you didn’t respond anymore. You just packed up your things. “Y/N, please.”

“See you at home, Tae,” you gave him a small smile before leaving the office.

Why was he so adamant that you don’t date Jeon Jungkook? This question popped in your head as you were making your way out of the Communications building. But you erased it in your mind—Taehyung was just shocked, probably weirded out too that his best friend and cousin were dating.

Why is he trouble? Another question propped in your mind.

You sighed deeply. All these questions would be answered when you meet with Jungkook as you made a mental note to ask him. For now, you just wanted to rest.

The buzzing sound of your phone vibrating against your desk woke you up from your slumber. With a groan, you sat up, stretching your arms wide, cracking your neck, and letting out a relieved sigh. You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but the last thing you remembered was fixing your planner. When you looked at the caller ID, Jungkook’s name flashed on the screen. For a moment, you were confused why he was calling you, and then it hit you.

I’ll change and meet you outside the building.

You quickly answered the call. “Jungkook, hey.”

“Y/N, are you okay? I waited for you outside the Comm building, but Taehyung said you went home. I’ve been trying to reach you,” Jungkook sounded concerned, in contrast to the sound of cheering and music in the background. He must have been at the afterparty already, you concluded.

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “I’m sorry. I was just tired so I went home. Are you at the afterparty?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “The guys dragged me to it, but it’s not really fun. Or maybe I’m just not in the mood. I’m glad you’re okay though. I was worried.”

Your heart fluttered yet again.

“I’m okay. Have fun at the afterparty,” you said, rubbing your eye with your knuckle.

“Y/N, I was hoping you could come tonight, here, at the afterparty, and start our agreement.”

Just like that, you were reminded of reality.

“Oh,” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound disappointed. “Um, I don’t know where that is.”

It was common knowledge that invitations for after parties at Jamsil for championships were only through word of mouth. Not everyone was invited. The only reason you knew of the location of the last three after parties were because of, again, your cousin Taehyung.

“It’s okay, I’ll come pick you up.”

“I don’t know what I should wear. I don’t go to a lot of parties,” you said, playing with the loose thread on the hem of the shirt you were wearing. It was a habit of yours whenever you were nervous—you needed to play with something whether it was your necklace, earrings, rings, sleeves, etcetera.

“It doesn’t matter. You look good in everything, Y/N. I’m serious,” Jungkook responded. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay? Don’t worry too much about what to wear. Just wear what’s comfortable.”

“Okay. Drive safely, Jungkook.”

When the phone call ended, you were reminded of what tonight would be, and gone were the worries about what you should wear. Tonight was going to be the night you were going to officially begin helping Jungkook take his revenge on Haemin. You felt like throwing up.

You were hit by the reality, once again, of what this agreement was about. Jungkook wasn’t being sweet to you because he wanted to but because he needed to. He wasn’t inviting you to the afterparty because he wanted to but because he needed to. He was only talking to you because he was paying you. It was time for you to take things at face value. With that in mind, you began to change.

True to his word, Jungkook arrived fifteen minutes later. It was a whiplash when you saw him at the door, waiting for you instead of your cousin. Wearing a white Calvin Klein shirt tucked under his washed jeans, black combat boots, and his curly hair parted in the middle, he was nothing short of beauty even in the simplicity of his attire. In one hand, he was clutching a denim jacket.

“Hey,” he greeted as soon as you opened the door. “You look great, Y/N.”

You suppressed the urge to smile and just nodded. Stepping outside of Taehyung’s condominium unit, you avoided his gaze. “Let’s go.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

You nodded, clutching the strap of your messenger bag. “Everything’s fine. Let’s just go. Where’s the afterparty anyway?”

“Y/N,” Jungkook’s hand found its way gently around your wrist, stopping you on your tracks. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Jungkook. I just really wanna get over this,” you said with a sigh.

“I don’t believe you,” he pointed out, still holding onto your wrist. “We don’t have to go to the afterparty if you don’t want to.”

“No, let’s go. Otherwise, how will you make Haemin jealous?” you stated, plastering a smile on your face even though you were anything but happy. “The sooner she gets jealous, the sooner she will want to be with you again, and the sooner I’ll get my deposit, and move out from here. The sooner everyone wins.”

There was an indescribable expression on Jungkook’s face. Although his grip on your wrist remained gentle, you could feel the tension brewing between the both of you.

“You’re right,” he muttered after a while. “Let’s get this over with.”

As expected, the afterparty was at a club. You hadn’t been to one but it was exactly as you expected a club to be. Packed with dancing college students, drinks everywhere, smoke in the air, suffocating you the moment you entered the establishment, blinding red, blue, green lights, and booming EDM and Top 40 hits songs blasting on the speakers. Jungkook led the way, holding your hand tightly, and you held his just as tight. You didn’t know where he was taking you, but you guessed that it was where Haemin would be. After all, she was the reason why you were here.

So, it was a surprise when you passed by her and her friends, and toward the staircase.

“Jungkook! Where are we going?!” you yelled over the loud music. .

Jungkook didn’t respond, but you knew that he heard you because he pulled you closer to him. And you let him lead you because it was him. You’d let him lead you anywhere if it meant being this close to him. Because no matter what you tell yourself—that this was all fake and pretend and paid—a part of you would always, always believe that he, in some way, reciprocated your feelings sincerely.

Jungkook passed by the people greeting him along the way until, finally, you reached the empty rooftop. Overlooking the city and its skylines, it was simply breathtaking. There were only broken benches, bottles of beers and discarded cigarette buds on the rooftop along with cracked pots of withered flowers. Here, Jungkook let go of your hand, reached for something from his denim jacket’s pocket—a pack of cigarette and lighter—and offered it to you.

“I don’t smoke,” you simply stated. It was news to you that he smoked. You knew athletes were forbidden due to health reasons, but you weren’t also naive that you didn’t think some did.

He nodded, picked one from the box, placed it in between his lips, lit it up, and began to smoke. You took a deep breath, and made your way toward the edge of the rooftop. Moments later, Jungkook was beside you.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” he said, the smell of cigarette strong, making you nauseous. But you didn’t tell him that.

You thought hard. Jungkook knew nothing about you besides being Taehyung’s cousin. It shouldn’t be that hard but it was, for some reason. And so, you said, “There’s really not much that you should know.”

To which he replied, “Oh, come on, there must be something,” He nudged your side slightly, letting out a chuckle as he took a long drag. “Don’t think too hard. Just tell me the first thing that comes to your mind.”

And so, you did. Before you knew it, you said, “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

“Seriously?” Jungkook asked, but it wasn’t in the disgusted, you’re-in-your-twenties-and-yet-you-haven’t-kissed-somebody kind of way. It was more of a genuine shock. Like it was the hardest thing in the world to believe in.

You chuckled, nodding. “I don’t know. I just feel weird about it.”

“But were there any instances where you came close to kissing somebody?” he pressed, flicking his cigarette.

“Of course, but when it came to it, I just couldn’t. It just didn’t feel…” you trailed off, unsure of what the right word was.

“Right?” Jungkook suggested and you nodded. “I see.”

“How about you?” you asked. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“I want to be somebody’s first kiss, and that somebody happens to be you.”

He was the only one who could do it—cause your heart to do somersaults inside you while also making it beat so fast that you were afraid he would hear it. It was the way he stared at you at that moment, eyes flickering from your eyes which reflected the cityscape below you and the smoke from his cigarette to your parted lips, unsure of what to say from his revelation.

“Do you think it’d feel right if I kiss you, Y/N?”

And like always, your mind and heart screamed: this was Jungkook. Who else would you want to be your first kiss? Since you were thirteen, you had been in love with him. You only imagined this in your head, in your wildest dreams.

And so, you nodded, afraid that if you spoke, no words would leave.

Jungkook nodded too, and he crushed his cigarette on top of the edge of the rooftop. He stepped towards you, cupped your face, and for a moment, the world stood still. Closing your eyes, you waited for his lips to crash onto yours.

And when it finally did, it was nothing that you had ever imagined.

No sparks.

No fireworks.

It was simple, mundane, ordinary—it was a kiss.

You held onto Jungkook’s wrists as he deepened the kiss, and yet, there were still none of the romantic aspects that you thought would happen during your first kiss. Even when Jungkook moved his hands from your face and around your waist, nothing. It tasted so bitter due to the mix of nicotine and beer that he had.

But you didn’t mind. You were kissing Jeon Jungkook, your fake boyfriend, at a party, where all his peers were. And for that, your first kiss was still memorable.

Oh, how Jeon Jungkook twisted your world.

PART THREE

You had no recollection whatsoever of what happened last night; much less how you got back to your shared condominium unit with Taehyung. But if you were to guess, your cousin probably brought you home as you vaguely remembered him being at the afterparty—much to his chagrin that you came with his best friend. Other moments were like missing puzzle pieces. You only remembered flashes, and you groaned when you felt the throbbing in your temple became stronger.

Usually, you could hold your liquor better than this. In fact, this was the first time, in a long while, that you could remember having a hangover. Your mother was your drinking buddy—started drinking with you when you were a junior in high school, and although she shouldn’t have done that, you didn’t mind. Your mother was a great mother. Your mother was your best friend. Your mother was a great parent. Yes, she had her shortcomings, but who didn’t? Certainly not you. You remembered the first time she asked you to try Soju, and subconsciously, it brought a smile to your face, and a low chuckle to escape your lips. You made a mental note to text her later.

As you left your bed, there was a knock on your bedroom door. Knowing it was your cousin, you told him to come in while you fixed your bed, and looked for your phone in the process.

“Your phone’s in your bag,” Taehyung muttered as he stepped inside your room, and leaned against the wall of the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “I brought you home too. Jungkook wanted to, but he rode a motorcycle, and you were wasted. It wasn’t safe.”

You nodded in understanding. You figured out that much. Like what Taehyung said, your phone was indeed inside your bag. Quickly, you unlocked it, and checked your notifications. Some were just annoying spam emails, app notifications, and automated messages from your SIM provider, but there was one message that made your heart beat quickly due to panic that you didn’t even notice Jungkook’s message.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you,” Taehyung said.

“We will talk, but not right now, I’m late for my tutoring session, Tae,” you hurriedly told him as you texted your tutee that you would be late, but that you would come since it was his midterms next week.

“Y/N, I’m serious. I still don’t approve of you and Jungkook dating.”

You should have expected this. In the years you spent with Taehyung, you should have known that he wasn’t the type of person who could accept “no” as an answer, and not getting what he wanted when and if he wanted it. You thought it only applied to everything else in his life; apparently, it also applied to your dating life.

“Taehyung, haven’t we gotten over this? Who I date is not yours to dictate,” you shook your head, sighing deeply as you gathered everything you needed for your quick shower. You were definitely not going to attend your tutoring session dressed from last night, and smelling like beer and nicotine.

“Jungkook’s a piece of shit as a boyfriend, Y/N. He’s crazy possessive and he gets so fucking jealous. His charming persona is just that—a persona. I don’t want you to get hurt by him, Y/N, please.”

The desperation in his voice was evidently obvious. When you looked at him, you were unsure of what to say. How could he say that to his own best friend?

“If he’s like that—,”

“He is like that,”

“Then why are you still friends with him?” you asked, pointedly. When Taehyung couldn’t give you an answer, you nodded. “Right. I thought so. I’m going now, Tae. This conversation is over.”

When you arrived at Jamsil’s library, you were forty five minutes late to your session with Yang Jungwon, a freshman from your program, Journalism with a major in Investigative Reporting. You found him in your usual spot, writing away on his yellow pad while nodding his head along the music he was listening to. Inhaling deeply, you made your way toward him. When you were finally near him, you tapped on his shoulder, causing him to jump a little, but when he saw you—his deep dimpled smile appeared on his face.

Yang Jungwon was like the little brother you never had but wished you had. You felt bad for thinking that way because you had Taehyung, but as stated, looking after him felt more like a responsibility you had no other choice but to take upon. With Jungwon, even though you were paid to help him with his studies, it never felt like a responsibility to you. You enjoyed spending time with him, helping him out, and sometimes, if the conversation steered into the direction, you enjoyed your deep and meaningful conversations with him.

You smiled back at him, and took the seat beside him, sitting on it. “I’m so sorry I’m late, Jungwon. You can tell your mom that she doesn’t need to pay me for this session.”

He shook his head. “No, noona. It’s okay. I didn’t mind the waiting. I got to use it to answer your mock tests.”

“Really? Let me see. What did you answer first?” you asked, taking your messenger bag off of your shoulder, placing it on the table.

“The Contemp—,” Jungwon began to say, but then he stopped, which caused you to tear your gaze away from the mock test in your hands, and to your tutee. You followed his gaze, and to your surprise, you saw Jungkook sitting across from you and Jungwon with a gentle smile on his face. He had his lip ring on—it was the first thing you noticed about him that day.

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat. Why did it feel like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do? Why did you suddenly feel anxious?

Taehyung’s words rang in your ears: He’s crazy possessive. His charming persona is just that—a persona.

Was all of it true? Was that the reason why he was here? Because you were with another guy?

“I guess you didn’t read my message, babe,” he chuckled. “I told you not to buy lunch anymore because I cooked some for you. Here, you can share it with your friend…” he trailed off, politely smiling at Jungwon.

“H-Hello, I’m Yang Jungwon,” Jungwon stammered, starstruck that Jamsil’s golden boy was talking to him.

“Hello, Jungwon. It’s nice to meet you. You can just call me hyung,” Jungkook turned to you. “I’ll get going now, okay?” He pushed the lunch box towards you. “Eat. There’s hangover soup in there too.”

You gave him a look to which he grinned at. “Ah, don’t worry, Jungwon. She can tutor you even though she’s dr—,”

“Okay, thank you, Jeon Jungkook,” you interrupted him, making his grin wider. You shook your head at him, but you couldn’t hide the blush coating your cheeks from his sweet gesture. Then, you wondered, as Jungkook took his leave, did he do the same thing to Haemin?

“I didn’t know you and Jeon Jungkook hyung are dating,” Jungwon brought you out of your trance, gaze finally now upon him rather than the absent figure of Jungkook.

“Yeah, it just happened,” you said to him. “But come on, let’s focus on your mock tests.”

Yet despite saying that, you were the one who couldn’t focus because the only thing in your mind was: how did Jungkook know you were at the library?

Taehyung’s words plagued your mind the entire day. Even while you were working, all you could think about was his words about his best friend. How could he say those things about Jungkook? Someone he’d been best friends with since they were little? Why was he so adamant about you not dating him? Taehyung usually kept a distance from your personal life, not even asking about your mother because he knew of the complicated relationship your family had with his family. So, why was he all over your case now that you were “dating” Jungkook? You couldn’t understand. You couldn’t wrap your head around it.

Although you confirmed with the library interaction that Jungkook wasn’t the possessive type, seeing as he just walked away after giving you the lunch box, and even let Jungwon call him hyung, there was still that nagging thought in your mind: what if Taehyung’s word held weight? What if they were true?

You thought about it: if they were true, even when you were only fake dating, would he still be as possessive as Taehyung said he was? What happened for your cousin to even tell you something like that?

Your thoughts were put on a halt when your manager called for your name. You worked as a part-time waitress at a restaurant called Rado. You used to be a full-time employee, but since you were in your last year of uni, you asked if you could still be employed on a part-time basis, and fortunately, your manager, Han Somin, agreed.

“Yes, Ms. Han?” you asked as you entered her small office inside the employees’ locker room.

“Y/N, hi, come inside, I just have something to tell you,” she said, taking her eyeglasses off, and kindly smiling at you. You nodded and did as told. “It’s nothing serious,” she continued, which alleviated the nerves sinking in your bones. “I just wanted to ask if you wanted to be part of this party we’re catering to on Saturday. It’s a listening party for an artist named J-Hope; he released a new album. Maybe you’ve heard of him.”

You shook your head. “No, Ms. Han. But I’d love to be part of the staff. Where would it be held?”

“It’ll be held at his label’s function room. I’ll send you the details, alright?” You nodded, then she dismissed you, and went back to work.

Money had always been a sensitive topic for you. Growing up, you knew that you didn’t have a lot but you were comfortable due to both of your parents’ wages. Your father was a simple office man while your mother had her own small flower shop. They were able to provide for your basic needs and wants but when your father passed away—your mother’s earnings at the flower shop weren’t sustainable. Hence, at an early age, you learned how to look for jobs, and learned the value of money and earning it. Hence, the reason why, besides loving Jungkook all your life, you simply could not half-ass fake dating him because it was innate in you that when you do a job, you give it your hundred percent.

Part of you wished you didn’t have to worry about your finances. That, like other students at Jamsil, you could have fun and enjoy college life without worrying if you would still have a roof over your head eve though you failed an exam or if you would still be able to eat the next day if you buy a food late at night because you were so hungry that you couldn’t sleep.

Having money meant having freedom to do all the things that you wanted to do—and you weren’t free. Not yet, anyway, but moving to your own place was a start. That’s why no matter what people say, you would see fake dating Jeon Jungkook through because whether you liked it or not—he was the key to your freedom.

Saturday rolled around quickly. Adorned in your Rado’s uniform—a simple white linen long sleeve polo shirt, black slacks, black high heels, and your hair pulled back to show your face—you were already at the label’s function room preparing for the listening party of J-Hope. His music had been playing since you got there and you felt yourself being immersed and vibing to it that you made a mental note to check his other songs out afterwards.

You were in charge of the food and drinks. Ms. Han was also present to supervise and with you was your co-worker, Kang Seulgi, and Kim Hanbin. It was an intimate type of party; hence, the small group of staff and catering.

“I wonder who we’ll see here,” Seulgi told you as she placed the food fingers on the table while you poured drinks into the glasses.

“I heard it’s just indie artists that J-Hope invited. It’s the target audience for his album, you see,” Hanbin piped in, fixing his necktie.

“Whoever it is, I’m sure—,”

“Kim Y/N, it’s nice to see you here,”

You only heard that voice a couple of times but you wouldn’t mistake it for another. It was ingrained in your mind so deeply. It was the voice of the person you hoped was you for a long time—who got to touch, kiss, hug, care, and love Jeon Jungkook for four years. It was the voice of the person who was Jeon Jungkook’s first love, and most likely still loved. It was the voice of the person that was never going to be you in his life. It was the voice of:

“Lee Haemin.”

PART FOUR (a sneak peek)

“Lee Haemin.”

In one word, she was beautiful. Dressed in a small black dress with thin straps and a pair of black heels, her silky black hair pulled back, showing off her idol-like face, Lee Haemin was just a sight to behold. Smiling at you, she took a step forward.

“Is it okay if we talk?” she asked.

As though you were hypnotized, you nodded wordlessly. A part of you already knew what the talk would be, or at least that’s what you thought. Nodding back, Haemin smiled at Seulgi and Hanbin before leading you out of the function room and somewhere more private. She opened a door leading to what seemed like the conference room, and gestured that you enter first so you did. She followed in suit, and you took a short time to look at your surroundings.

It was all white with an oval table in the middle and black swivel chairs surrounding it. Adjacent to you were the ceiling to floor windows, showcasing the city landscape. Connected at the top was a projector and on the left side was a projector screen. You wondered how Haemin got access to such room, and as though reading your mind, she said:

“My family owns a stock, if you’re wondering why I got access to this room. We can pretty much use any room in the company.”

Nodding your head, you turned to face her. “I see. That’s great. I didn’t know that.”

“Not many people do,” she answered. “But that isn’t really why I wanted to talk to you.”

“I know,” you replied. “You wanna talk about Jeon Jungkook.”

Haemin smiled. “I heard you’re dating him.”

“From who? Taehyung?” You knew they were friends. Not exactly close, but they were acquainted due to Jungkook.

She shook her head. “From Jungkook." Stunned, your mouth parted ways a little. Haemin smiled. "Surprising, I know, but it truly was him who told me that he was with you."

"Why would he say that to you?"

"Because he loved me first."

And it was the truth. The truth hurts but it was the truth nevertheless. You weren't the first person he ever loved, ever had a deep and humane connection with. Everything about your relationship was a lie, a cover up. Theirs was true and real. Jungkook loved Haemin; not you.

Forcing a smile upon your face, you answered, “He loves me now. I don’t see the point of having this conversation, to be honest.”

“No, he doesn’t love you, Y/N. He wants you. Those two things are different,” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Hence, Haemin continued, “Loving someone lights up your world. Wanting someone, now that’s a different thing. To want something is to own it.”

“And your point? Jungkook wants to own me?” Even your words sent shivers down your spine. You loved Jungkook since you could remember. But did you want him to own you?

“Yes,” she replied. “Jungkook’s the type of person who gets and gets and gets and never likes to not have what he wants, what he needs. I’m telling you all these because prior to him dating you,” she smiled when she said ‘dating’ as though she knew it was only fake. “He lost me. Now he’s trying to get you to get me back, to own me again. But I don’t want that anymore. I don’t love him anymore. Don’t trap yourself. Get out as early as you can.”

You didn’t know what to say. So, you did the only thing you could do: walk away. But then Haemin called your name, and you stopped on your tracks, looking at her over your shoulder. “Don’t let love blind you, Y/N. I know you’ve loved him for years, but he’s only going to break you—mind, body, soul.”

“Thank you for the advice, Haemin,” you told her. “But I didn’t need it. Please respect my relationship with Jungkook. Thank you and enjoy the night away.”

author’s note: hey guys. again, so sorry for deactivating all of a sudden. i know this isn’t much but i hope having a sneak peek into chapter four brought you a bit of joy and excitement. feel free to send me asks regarding burnout and other things. see you in price of freedom next. i’ll be posting it again on tumblr for easy viewing but it’ll also be on hold for the time being. thank you and much love, aika.

#yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fics #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #yandere bts #jeon jungkook #yandere jeon jungkook #burnout by aikastales #aikastales

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cherrycolored-punk · 17 days

Text

NHTK - Chapter One

Masterlist

summary: You’d always been warned by your older brother about the bad boys. The ones with the long hair, tattooed arms, and played in a band. Especially the one that is his best friend.

pairing: brother's best friend! Eddie Munson x fem! Reader, reader is Reefer Rick’s little sister.

trope/themes: forbidden love, friends to lovers

w/c: 5.6k

author's note: this is a repost from my previous blog @strangemagicc and I’ve been debating whether or not I should but I love their story so much. I hope you enjoy ! 🖤 a side note: yes, I did get drunk off my own jungle juice and yes, that did result in the worst sunburn of my life. I pour with a heavy hand.

warnings: angst, mention of cheating (technically not reader), mention of anxiety, brief mention of unwanted touching, underage drinking/smoking, a little sprinkle of smut (does clothed grinding count?). Let me know if I missed anything!

The Cunningham home was packed with bodies, familiar faces, and those you didn’t know. You stood near the front door fiddling with the zipper on your purse as you scanned the room searching for a familiar face.

Party lights bounced off a disco ball that hung haphazardly from a chandelier sending a kaleidoscope of blues and purples dancing across the foyer.

The loud music hummed in the walls, vibrating when the bass dropped. You bobbed your head to it mindlessly, without rhythm, feeling uncomfortable in the swarm of bodies around you. The foyer was crowded with partygoers, some locked in an embrace and others pushing their way up the stairs to the rooms that lined the hallway for some privacy.

Your teeth dug into your lower lip, eyebrows marrying in the middle as you searched above the sea of bodies. You were supposed to meet your best friend, Rachel, outside nearly an hour ago but your shift at Hawk Theater had dragged on, and now you didn’t know where to find her or your boyfriend for that matter.

That’s when you spotted them.

It felt like ice had filled your veins as you watched the way the familiar form of your boyfriend’s lips pushed against your best friend’s. Their mouths a frenzied dance, their eyes squished close. Her hands in his hair, his palms tracing down her exposed skin. You couldn’t move, disbelief keeping you anchored in place and watching the two of them as the rest of the world fell silent. Loud music muffled, and voices drowned out by the hammering of your heart against your ribcage.

A shoulder bumped yours causing your purse to fall as a partygoer rushed through the door to where their friends were gathered.

“Fuck,” You blinked rapidly and bent down to grab the black leather, eyes darting around at people’s shoes as you tried to regain your surroundings.

When you stood, you watched as Simon whispered in Rachel’s ear. She let out a small laugh in response to whatever he said before nodding. You began to push your way through the crowd, but bodies pushed back, and you watched as Simon led Rachel up the stairs through a throng of people. Her hand clasped in his, megawatt smile on display, and you wondered if this was the first time he had led her to a secluded room. Wondered how many stolen glances or hints you had missed.

You stopped pushing your way through and ignored the shouting in your head telling you to move, move, move.

What would you do?

What would you say?

Did it matter?

Shoulders pushed into yours as you stood still, wishing the earth would swallow you whole.

You held in the tears threatening to spill, allowing the hurt to settle into your stomach and create a dull ache.

People shoved past you, and you let your body be moved by the crowd as your eyes danced around the house.

For the first time, you noticed the smiling faces and chiseled jaws you’d ignored the past four years.

Squaring your shoulders, you pushed back against the bodies creating a path to the kitchen. Empty bottles and cans littered the counters. White granite stickied with beer and liquor.

You grabbed a plastic cup and waited for your turn at the keg. Jason Carver manned the pump and eyed you as you approached, handing him your empty plastic cup.

“Well, if it isn’t Rick’s little sister,” he started, a fake smile plastered wide on his face. You gave him a sarcastic grin and grabbed for your beer as he topped it off. None too keen on being called, let alone known as Reefer Rick’s little sister.

Jason pulled away, holding your beer just out of reach.

“Your brother was supposed to have someone here supplying the party favors. What gives?”

You couldn’t help the way your eyes rolled. Hawkins’ Golden Boy was always itching for his next fix.

“I’m sure one of his little lackeys is crawling around here somewhere.” You held your arms up, gesturing around you before reaching back up for your drink. He held it away from you again, and your shoulders sagged, annoyance building.

“Come on, Carver. Give the lady her drink,” Another boy grabbed the cup, handing it to you with a soft smile.

He was cute in an obvious way, skin glowing with a fading summer tan that highlighted the blue of his eyes.

“Thanks,” you responded with a small grin, your hand grazing his as you grabbed for your drink.

“Any time.” His eyes held yours, his hand still outstretched and warm beneath your touch.

A perfect distraction.

———————————

Eddie sank into the worn-down couch cushions with a heavy sigh, his legs spread wide so no one would sit too close. Not that they would dare to anyway.

He sat with a view of the foyer and kitchen, both areas crowded with people in various stages of inebriation.

Unfamiliar faces were cast in a rainbow of colors by the party lights illuminating multiple parts of the house. His eyes darted from one room to another.

Empty bottles of hard liquor were toppled against the kitchen counter. Plastic cups littered the room near the two kegs that sat in the middle of the tiled floor, sticky with spilled beer and marred by dirty footprints.

It was a familiar scene, one that played out the same way nearly every weekend since Eddie could remember.

But now his nerves were withering away, disappearing into nothingness as the minutes ticked by. Bored out of his mind.

Another generic pop song blasted through the speakers, another once jock tried to negotiate the price of Eddie’s already cheap supply.

His jaw was set, and if he didn’t need the money so fucking bad, he wouldn’t be here. At another house party for has-beens and once popular teens inching towards full-blown adulthood. No longer barely legal, a year closer to buying beer without sneaking it past an unsuspecting convenience store clerk.

He chugged his beer, streams of amber liquid pouring out on either side of his mouth as he drank harshly. Sloppily. Until the lukewarm liquid was gone and he was staring down into an empty plastic cup. Eddie threw his head against the cushions debating whether another cup of cheap beer was worth giving up his spot on the couch.

And then you caught his eye. Your back pressed to a guy he’d never seen you with.

His brow quirked up curiously as he watched you. The way the hem of your dress inched up with the movement of your hips, the way your eyes were closed as you swayed to the rhythm of the music and took a swig of whatever filled your plastic cup.

Didn’t you have a boyfriend?

He was surprised to see you here. Somewhere seemingly not your scene, surrounded by people he knew you didn’t like.

In truth, Eddie knew very little about you these days. Your interactions had been limited since the two of you worked side by side at the theater. A job he was fired from when the manager caught him making deals on the clock and company property. Since then, he only caught glimpses of you when he came by your house to see your brother. A passing hello or a quick goodbye. Never anything like those days spent conversing by the cinema dumpsters while being scorched by the summer sun.

You turned around and whispered something in the guy’s ear and pointed to your cup before weaving through the crowd.

Your back was to Eddie, hands reaching towards bottle after bottle, shaking them to check their contents. All coming up empty.

He chuckled when you spotted the giant cooler filled with Chrissy’s concoction of jungle juice; a mix of pineapple malibu, cherry moonshine, and fruit punch.

Eddie pushed himself off his spot on the couch and moved through the crowd towards you. Approaching just as you filled the cup to the brim and brought it towards your waiting lips. He pulled the red plastic from your hands and gave you a chastising grin.

“Don’t think so, little Lipton,” he took a swig and raised his eyebrows as the sweetness hit his tongue.

You gave him an annoyed glare and reached for your drink just as he pulled it out of your nearing grasp with an amused grin.

“I’m sorry, Munson, since when did you become an advocate against public displays of intoxication?” You reached up and snatched your cup back from his hand, looking at him with a questioning arch of your eyebrow.

He noticed the way your words were somewhat slurred, your cheeks a shade darker from the alcohol you’d already consumed.

“See you got a new boyfriend,” Eddie stated, jutting his chin toward your dance partner and ignoring the insinuation of your words. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at you with an amused gleam in his eye as he waited for your explanation.

“That guy?” You turned to the cute brunette who was waiting for you to return before looking back at Eddie.

“I just met him like two seconds ago,” you hiccuped and let out a small laugh as Eddie looked back to the brunette who was eyeing him wearily.

“What happened to Simon?”

“He’s probably still upstairs fucking Rachel,” you waved him off and shrugged before taking another sip of your drink.

“What?” Eddie couldn’t have heard you right. Simon had been your boyfriend since the summer you turned sixteen, having met him while working at Hawk Theater alongside Eddie.

“Look, Munson, is there a point to this line of questioning?”

Your buzzed mind was becoming less cloudy, the feelings you’d been pushing down threatening to come to the surface, and all you wanted to be was distracted.

“Your brother wouldn’t be too happy if I let you get drunk at some house party,” he sighed, changing the subject.

“Well, isn’t it a good thing that he isn’t here, and you can just pretend you didn’t see me?” You smiled over your cup before chugging some of the drink.

The sugary sweetness of the fruit punch nearly overpowered the taste of the strong liquor mixed with it but still, it burned as it went down. Eddie shook his head, his tongue jutting into his cheek to fight the wide grin that threatened to spread at your words.

“I wouldn’t chug that if I were you,” he warned, and you rolled your eyes, removing the plastic from your lips with a scowl pointed in his direction.

“Since when are you such a party pooper?” You poked at his chest with your free hand.

“Plus, I’ve already had a beer or two.” You held up one too many fingers to him as you pressed the cup to your lips and swallowed harshly.

“Come on, (Y/N), this isn’t like you,” he frowned.

“How would you know, Eddie?” You said his name like it was a curse word as you looked at him through hooded eyes.

He opened his mouth to respond when a passerby pushed against him to get through the crowd causing his frame to lurch into yours. A small splash of your drink soaked through your sweater, and you pushed back against his torso instinctively, his chest hard against the palm of your hand.

“Shit, sorry,” his warm breath fanned your face. A hint of spearmint mixed with the scent of cigarettes caught your nose as you inhaled sharply, caught off guard by the sudden contact of his hand against your hip, steadying himself from the crowd's sway.

You gazed up at him, your hand still on his chest, into his wide brown eyes. His cheeks were colored pink as his hand darted away from you.

“Sorry,” he whispered again, and you gave him a sardonic smile, enjoying the way he squirmed by being this close to you. Too close.

“Maybe we should get you home to change,” he pointed to your stained sweater, and you shrugged as you placed your drink on the counter.

“Trying to get me alone, Munson?” You teased, and maybe it was the alcohol, or perhaps it was the way you wished his nervous energy was because you affected him the same way he had always affected you.

You pulled at the hem of the green pullover revealing the tight black lace dress you wore underneath. Eddie’s gaze dropped instinctively, eyeing how the material hugged your curves. You grabbed his wrist and dropped the sweater into his open palm.

“Hold onto that for me,” you picked your cup back up from the counter.

“And don’t worry, Rick doesn’t have to know,” you gave him a small wink before turning away from him and pushing back through the crowd.

Eddie stared at you, his mouth agape as you disappeared back into the sea of people and picked up where you left off with your dance partner. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck—the guy whose name you didn’t even know.

Eddie glanced back down at your sweater in his outstretched hand and shook his head unsure of exactly what had gotten into you.

He grabbed another cup of beer and leaned against a wooden beam near the living room, his eyes always finding you when he looked around the room. Eddie made a few deals and sold most of his supply, a few hundred dollars closer to his goal of finally leaving Hawkins behind.

Eddie looked up and watched as stranger boy’s hands drifted down your hips and dug into your thighs. You pushed his hands back up to your waist, your head swaying to the music as the two of you continued to dance.

But stranger boy’s hands crept down your hip once again, inching lower and lower until they glided past the hem of your dress. You stilled and turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck. His chest flush with yours, blue eyes dull into you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. A flirty smile on his lips.

“Able to keep your hands to yourself, pretty boy?” Although you wanted a distraction, you still had reservations. Boundaries you didn’t want to cross. Not when your still boyfriend was upstairs.

“What’s the fun in that,” He whispered into your ear, palms sliding down and cupping your ass. Your smile fell, and you pushed at his chest, putting space between you.

“Knock it off,” your voice came out louder, barely heard above the music. Eddie tensed and pushed off the wooden beam he’d been leaning on. Your date looked uneasily around the crowd and back at you.

“Don’t be such a tease. You’ve been grinding on my dick for most of the night.” You scoffed at him and shook your head.

Eddie began to walk in your direction, pushing past the crowd that had turned its attention towards you.

“I was dancing,” you corrected just as Eddie approached. His lean frame towered next to you, eyes set on the guy whose name you now didn’t care to know.

“We got a problem here?” Eddie questioned.

“Should’ve expected your brother’s dealer to be your little lap dog,” the brunette laughed, cocky. Annoyance thrummed through your veins, and you began to step toward him but Eddie grabbed your arm, his warm palm pressed against your exposed skin.

“He’s not even worth it,” Eddie whispered and pulled you back, “let’s go.” You nodded at his words and turned to leave with him, emotional exhaustion now weighing heavy on your shoulders.

Eddie followed behind you, ignoring the way the sea of heads watched him like he was some carnival freak on display.

“Stupid slut,” the brunette muttered as he turned towards his friends, and Eddie stopped in his tracks, a dark grin coloring his features.

“On second thought.” He turned and took a wide step, swinging without hesitation.

His clenched fist connected with the guy’s jaw sending him stumbling back and falling to the ground. Eddie stood over him, chest rising and falling rapidly. Ready for a fight. The guy groaned on the ground, holding his jaw where Eddie’s fist had already left a mark. You stood stunned into silence, the whispers of the crowd breaking you from your reverie.

“Eddie, we should go,” you grabbed onto his hand and pulled as the crowd’s murmurs began to grow louder. A bigger fight could cause the police to be called and Eddie didn’t need a bigger record.

He didn’t budge, gaze still fixed on the guy writhing in pain on the floor.

“Let’s go,” you urged and pulled on his hand hard, this time he followed. You led him through the crowd and out the front door, ignoring the dozens of eyes that watched you leave.

His palm was still pressed to yours when you reached the sidewalk, the night breeze cold against your exposed skin sobering you. You stopped and dropped Eddie’s hand as you looked up to him.

“What the fuck was that?” You pointed towards the house now in the distance with an outstretched hand before crossing your arms over your chest. The moon illuminated Eddie in a hazy white glow, the street lamps dim on the other side of the street.

“Me protecting you?” He questioned, his eyebrows creasing as he took in your sour expression.

“You didn’t need to do that!” Your voice rose.

“That guy had his greasy hands all over you and called you a slut, but you’re mad at me?” His tone was filled with incredulity, eyes wide and shocked.

“No, I just-,” you sighed and pressed your fingers against the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes as you tried to put into words how you felt.

Hurt?

Confused?

Angry?

Like a fucking idiot for dancing with some loser at a house party you didn’t even want to be at in the first place.

“Thank you,” you sighed and looked up at him. It was better than an explanation of your misplaced anger.

“I mean it,” you grabbed onto his hand so he knew that you meant it. He looked to your connected hands and back at you.

“Any time, Spielberg,” he gave you a cocky smile and you dropped his hand, watching as he walked past you to his van.

“We agreed you’d never call me that again,” you said through gritted teeth, following behind him. Eddie turned and began to walk backward, keyring twirling on his finger.

“No, you asked me to stop. I never agreed to it.” He stopped in front of his black van and opened the passenger door.

“Your chariot awaits,” he stepped aside so you could climb in, presenting the passenger seat as though it were a grand prize.

“I can walk, Eds,” you chuckled and began to walk past him. You figured the night air would do you good. Eddie yanked you by your shoulder reeling you back towards him.

“Get in the fucking car,” he pushed you towards the seat and waited until you were situated before closing the door. He ran around the front of the vehicle and quickly climbed into the driver’s seat.

As Eddie started the car you noticed his bloody knuckles. Guilt reared its ugly head and you grimaced at the sight of his already bruising flesh. As he waited for the car to warm up, you rummaged through your bag looking for the travel-sized first aid kit you kept buried at the bottom, and quietly rejoiced when you found it.

Without asking you reached for his hand and settled it into your lap. When he tried pulling away you squeezed his wrist to hold him into place.

“What are you doing?” He questioned, glancing between you and his split knuckles.

“What does it look like?” You gave him a teasing look and grabbed an alcohol wipe, tearing open the package before blotting the pad gently against his skin.

Eddie winced and you looked at him with a silent apology before blowing on his knuckles to help them dry.

His gaze traced the curve of your nose down to the plush of your lips, swallowing hard as his eyes lingered. A little hypnotized, just as you’d always had him. You placed a bandaid on each cut and patted his hand softly breaking Eddie from his trance.

“All better,” you stated and glanced up at him with a satisfied grin.

He pulled his hand away and cleared his throat, refocusing his attention on the road ahead as he pulled away from the curb. Eddie eyed his bandaged hand resting on the steering wheel as he drove.

Of course, you’d have Hello Kitty bandaids.

He shook his head but couldn’t fight the way his grin grew wide and took over his features.

The two of you drove towards your house in silence, Soundgarden playing low on the radio.

Houses passed in a dark blur, the clouds covering any light the moon had offered. It had been years since the two of you had been alone for more than a passing moment. Not since those days spent at work where Eddie got to know you as more than his best friend’s little sister.

You fiddled with the hem of your dress, conflicted by to say or if you should say anything. It didn’t go unnoticed by Eddie who began to glance between you and the road, measuring his words just as cautiously.

“Sorry about your-“

“Do you think-“

The both of you began speaking at once and you chuckled awkwardly as you looked towards him. He nodded at you to go ahead, giving you the floor to speak.

“Do you think we could go somewhere? It could be anywhere, I just really don’t want to go home right now,” you shrugged, continuing to play with the material of your dress.

The two of you were already close to your home, the trees becoming more dense as you approached but he nodded. He turned his van down a different path, the trees opening as you approached the Lake.

The light of the moon and stars glittered off the calm waters, peaceful. Serene. A different scene from the events of the night. He parked near the edge of the trees and killed the lights, taking off his seatbelt before looking at you. Nervous energy hummed in his chest and was evident in the way he bounced his leg absently.

“This good?”

You gave him a weak smile and nodded. The guilt had spread and made a home of your chest. Eddie got hurt because of you. Lost out on sales defending you.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you began, your eyes focused on the darkness of the lake.

Eddie watched you, the way your teeth chewed at your bottom lip. Your anxious energy palpable.

“I’m sorry you had to get mixed up in my mess,” you looked at him now and Eddie shook his head.

“Like I was going to let Chris Grandy call you a stupid slut,” he rolled his eyes.

You giggled to yourself. So that was the douchebag’s name.

“It really doesn’t matter,” you shrugged. “Probably was acting like one.”

You’d only ever had one serious boyfriend in your life and he’d spent the night upstairs with your childhood best friend. There was a lot you didn’t know about dating or the rules of flirting. What gave guys the wrong idea or made them think you wanted something more and you kept playing it over in your head wondering what you could’ve done differently.

Eddie’s leg stopped bouncing as he watched you and the anger built up in his chest. He wasn’t mad at you, he was so fucking pissed off that the slime ball made you feel like this. Made you feel guilty for enjoying yourself or question whether you did anything wrong.

“You were having fun,” he started, “and regardless of how you danced or what you said, when you told him to stop he should’ve stopped. Nothing you did or said justifies him being a fucking creep.”

He was seething, you could tell from the way his chest rose and fell. From the way his jaw was clenched, the moonlight illuminating his features.

Munson had always been handsome, cute in a not-so-conventional way. It was the way his curly hair framed his high cheekbones and the plush of his lips. The way his big brown eyes were always animated when he talked about something he liked.

The first time you noticed it, noticed him, was when you were thirteen. You spent that summer blubbering in his presence, finding any excuse to talk to him or go into your brother’s room. The crush never really went away, always lingered in the back of your mind and now in the way your heart thrummed as his gaze was fixed on you. A silent plea begging you to understand what he told you.

It was like a magnetic pull the way you leaned closer to him, eyes trained on his as you inched closer.

“You don’t think there’s anything wrong with me having fun?” You questioned with innocent eyes and looked up at him through your lashes, your face closer to his.

“Why would there be?” He swallowed, his gaze flicking from yours to the pout of your lips.

Eddie was losing the little bit of composure he’d been able to maintain all these years. The warnings your brother had given sounded off like alarms in his head.

“Also, I’m the one who needs to apologize,” he grimaced and began to play with the rings on his fingers, changing the subject. Trying to distract himself from the way the scent of your perfume had him a little disjointed.

“For what?” You pursed your lips, perplexed.

“I’m, uh, pretty sure I left your sweater back there at the party. Nearly one hundred percent positive,” he looked at you with a sideways grimace, already shrinking away as he anticipated your reaction but you only laughed.

“I ruined it with Chrissy’s weird concoction anyway,” you dropped your face into your hand, your body shaking with laughter.

“I still can’t believe you drank that shit,” he laughed with you, “it had me on my ass a few years ago at her Fourth of July party.”

“No way,” your laugh grew louder as you absently held onto his arm, encouraging him to divulge.

“In my defense, those sugary drinks are the ones that get you,” his body shook with his building laughter.

“Could barely taste the moonshine she puts in it so I had a few cups,” he shook his head, “I fell asleep in one of those loungers by the pool and the next thing I remembered was waking up in some random room laughing to myself with the worst sunburn of my life.”

You winced at the picture he painted, imagining his pale skin marred by the sun.

“So that’s why you took my cup,” realization dawned upon you.

“Just trying to save you, little Lipton,” he agreed and you groaned.

“I wish people would stop calling me that. I’m not just Rick’s sister you know?” Your shoulders sagged. It had always been like that.

People, boys, avoiding you because of who your brother was. Ghosting you once they found out your last name, his reputation preceding you.

Until Simon.

“I know you’re not,” he assured you earnestly.

“You’re definitely just saying that,” you rolled your eyes.

“Since when have I told you something just because it’s what you want to hear, Spielberg?” He emphasized the nickname you hated to prove his point.

You leaned over the middle console and jabbed at his ribs with your finger causing him to jump and grab at your hand.

“This is the thanks I get for saving your life,” he dramatized and grabbed your other hand as he dodged its attack.

He held onto your hands, your laughter mixing with his, and stared up into his eyes.

You could say it was the alcohol still clouding your mind for what you did next, could say it was because you still needed the distraction you sought at the beginning of the night.

Eddie smelled like apple and bergamot, a hint of weed and tobacco. He swallowed hard as you leaned closer. He felt the warmth of your breath against his face and watched as your eyes fluttered close.

He hesitated for a moment before closing the rest of the space. Heart beating faster than it had that night.

Your breath hitched with the first contact of his lips. They were smooth, almost pillowy against your own, as they matched the pace you set. He released your hands and you twined them in his curls, soft like you’d always imagined.

Eddie’s hands fell into his lap and clenched into fists as the kiss deepened, your tongue parting the seam of his mouth. He opened and slowly met yours with the tip of his own.

You tasted like cherry chapstick and fruit punch, sweet like he always thought you would be and it was getting so hard not to touch you.

Warmth blossomed in your chest, spreading to your veins in a low hum and you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him flush against you. His hands left his lap and wrapped around your waist, fingers digging into your flesh.

He pulled you across the middle console into his lap and you moved without hesitation, your mouth still pressed to his.

There was an unspoken need shared in the way your mouths meshed, in the way he swallowed your sighs and you elicited his groans. It felt like you were floating, head buzzing from a different kind of inebriation.

You wanted more, you needed more but the bright lights of a passing car broke you two apart.

Eddie stilled beneath you and pulled away from your still-pursed lips.

“Shit,” he whispered and closed his eyes as he hit his head against the headrest.

You bit into your lower lip and played with the material of his black t-shirt, looking at him curiously. Confusion evident on your brow.

“What’s wrong?” He shook his head, eyes still closed as his fingers traced absent lines back and forth over your naked thighs.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he shook his head and you stilled.

“We shouldn’t be or you don’t want to be?” You felt as though he was making an excuse, trying to let you down easily instead of telling you that he regretted kissing you.

“Shouldn’t be,” he lifted his head and finally opened his eyes.

He brought his hand to your face and held you, tracing an absent thumb over your cheekbone.

“Who says we shouldn’t be?” You leaned into his touch and rubbed your hands over his chest, enjoying the way his heart thrummed against your palms.

Eddie had trouble concentrating, distracted with you pressed against the evidence of his budding arousal.

Even in the silence you both knew the answer to his question, the boundary that had always been there. Invisible but palpable.

You’d always been warned by your older brother about the bad boys. The ones with the long hair, tattooed arms, and played in a band. Especially the one that is his best friend.

“You know who,” he finally responded, hands gripping your thighs as you shifted in his lap and you smirked. Enjoying the way Eddie Munson looked a little dazed beneath you.

“Nobody has to know if you don’t want them to,” you muttered as you leaned closer, your breath fanning his face. Lips enticing him and he swallowed hard. Resolve wavering under the intensity of his want.

He closed the little space that remained between the two of you, lips not as gentle as before when they pressed against yours. His kisses were hungry. Needier than before.

It felt like he was kissing you like he’d always wanted to, but you didn’t dare hope for that type of reciprocation. Satisfied to have him bucking into your clothed pussy, moans escaping his lips as he held you against him and ground your hips over his boner.

You moaned as he peppered kisses down your jaw and across your neck, nibbling against the sensitive flesh of your throat.

Leaving his marks where everyone could see.

Where Simon could see.

You stilled for a moment but a moment was all Eddie needed to stop, to regain clarity. To push you off his lap with a heavy sigh, a quick rise and fall of his chest. You sank into the passenger and stared at him, your breaths matching his.

“We need to stop,” he shook his head and took a deep breath, running his sweaty palms over his pants. You only nodded, your voice lost as your thoughts collided with each other. Confusion etched into your forehead.

Eddie adjusted his jeans and looked over his shoulder before reversing his car. He needed to get you home before his resolve completely dissipated. Before you did something with him that you might regret like the others.

You fell into silence, eyes trained on the passing trees that were barely visible under the pale moonlight. Embarrassment clung to you, sticky and suffocating. Rejection mingling with the hurt that was beginning to resurface.

The short drive to your house was quiet and you didn’t turn to say thank you as you hopped out of his van.

You clamored through your door, the quiet of your empty house greeting you.

Eddie watched as you slipped into the darkness of your home, and a wave of guilt settled over him as he remembered your brother’s words. As the image of your confused face resurfaced behind his closed eyes. He thumped his head against the steering wheel and groaned loudly.

“Fuck!”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem oc #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie musnon x fem!reader

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andrsnsgirl · 3 months

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if you had known that opening a car washing service to raise money for your sophomore trip would have led to you to be bent down on the hood of a car with a pink, squiring dildo in your pussy, you would have done it way earlier. you must admit the idea was quite the eureka moment. it's summer and it hasn't rained for days, all sports have stopped for the summer and being back in town whilst your parents worked all day was feeling a little depressing which was leading to the cars in the town being covered by a thin layer of dust and to you being constantly hot and in need of a cold shower. it wasnt that hard to put the two things together.

you distributed flyers around, hung them up in diner’s, cafe’s and along the street, choose a large empty spot near the road and that was it. d-day was hot and dry, and you only smiled more staring at your pretty outfit in the mirror. low cut jeans shorts that barely covered your ass and your pink coral reef bikini set, one you knew was going to become transparent with the first lick of water, transparent enough to give your clients the show of your pierced nipples. after all, you knew a good show was gonna bring more money, and you didn't intend to waste that opportunity.

with a touch of gloss on your lips and throwing your hair in an up-do, you were ready to go. you had not been wrong. your clients, mostly men somehow, had enjoyed the show, whistling at you while you washed their windows, wet shirt clinging to your chest and foam all over your neck and legs. you had played along, giggling and swaying your hips while humming to the song playing on the radio, smiling widely at the generous tips. and then she had came along. abby, the new boxer trainer down at the gym. you had seen her many times there, she and dina staring at you from the glass window with the excuse of watching dina’s girlfriend, ellie training. well, dina was staring at her girlfriend. but you? you couldn't take your eyes off abby, from her arms popping with veins, tattoos littered in all the right places and sweaty long hair falling in her face as she tucked one side behind her ear.

you got aroused just by staring at her that day, and remembers a long cold shower afterwards, using your favourite clear dildo to fuck yourself open, coming, chanting abby’s name. and now she was here, with a black tank top showing off her muscled shoulders and gym shorts that gave you the perfect view of the thighs you wanted to ride with abby’s hands wrapped around your neck. you see the last car of the day pull up and make sure to refill your tub of now extremely soapy water and put on your best smile despite the main attraction being your body.

abby lowers down her tinted window, smiling at you, "hey, [redacted] right?" you simply nod your head, biting your lips, "yep, that's me" abby just nods, slowly staring you up and down, you feeling proud when you see her stare fixing on the low edge of your shorts. abby coughs and gives you her money, "uhm, thank you for this, i hope it's enough?" you just hums and nods, turning around and going to dunk the buckets in the soapy water and bring them over to her car. you’re excited, adrenaline running in your veins. you’re gonna give abby the best show ever made.

abby is flustered, her ears get all red and hot. the strap in her shorts becomes increasingly uncomfortable to be wearing as she sits behind her car wheel and watches you wash her car. but really she can’t be blamed. she’s pretty sure you are doing it on purpose to rile her up because in no way, shape or form do you need to extend like that to clean the hood, your shorts rising up until all ass is sticking out and you pause the wash before completely undressing yourself out of the shorts, leaving you in just your bikini set. she almost honked her horn because she didn’t think you were wearing any sort of underwear. water falls on your lips trailing to the chest and she curses when she see’s the outline of your nipple piercings poking through the top. you sigh and look at the progress you’ve made, you’ve been working all day without a break and was in desperate need of one.

abby thinks you must be enjoying this game when she sees you prance up to her window with a tilted head. “hey do you mind if i have a 5 minute break”, you whine “it’s hot and i’ve been working all day” abby bites her tongue to not curse, shifting uncomfortably in her seat pushing her strap down, trying to hide it, “uh s..sure.” you watch the movements of her hands and uncomfortableness and take note of her crimson red ears. you giggle, biting your lip once again “cute” you mumble.

the second your break is up you’re right back washing the rest of her car. skin tanned so perfect and on display. your dermals perfectly gleaming in the sun in front of abby, so ready to be marked kissed and ruined. abby inhales and runs her fingers through her hair turning her ac on blast to help cool herself. all she wants to do is get out her car and fuck you open until you go limp, seeing your juices around her strap and coming all over that ass she’s beginning to love. you’re staring at her, all flushed, wet and pretty and abby has her face in both her hands as she groans out loud at the sight. she breaks out of it when you tap her back window. “there is an area that i can’t seem to reach, care to help me?” and abby knows, she knows you’re playing a game and God she wishes this game would end exactly how she wants it to, which means you bent on the front of the fucking hood, moaning loud enough for every bystander to turn their heads.

abby follows you outside, and you just smile at her before bending yourself on the hood, your arms stretching in front of you, trying to reach a point near the windscreen. abby inhales sharply, hands itching to trace the skin of your back and hips, to pull down that stupid string that dangles on the sides of your bottoms and spread your legs right there and then. you wiggle below her, "can you reach it?"

abby breathes slowly, clearing her throat before lowering down, covering your body with her own and bringing the sponge in your hand where she wants it. she inhales when her chest comes in contact with your wet back, the girl beneath her letting down a soft sigh at the weight above her. "h-here you g-"

abby’s words are cut off by you bucking up under her, your ass pushing back against abby's strap, her end digging in to her clit. a whiny curse comes out of her mouth, your eyes fluttering shut getting a feel of the silicone shape. abby stands still, afraid that if she moves, or if you do it again, she wont be able to contain herself. that's exactly what you want apparently.

the smaller girl turns her head on the side, staring right into abby before you buck up again. you moan at the feeling, eyes wide still staring at abby. "i know you want to fuck me" you mumble, ass moving is small circles on abby's strap, adding more pressure very time, "good thing i haven't stopped thinking about your cock splitting me in half in days.”

abby curses before crashing your lips together, grabbing at your hips to maintain balance. abby unties the string of a bikini you wore and pulls them down your legs. when she gets up, is to the view of a pretty naked girl spread on the hood of her car, legs wide open and fingers playing with her folds and head back. "please a..abby", you whine, foam and water falling from your hair, thighs and back. abby curses, quickly undoing her drawstring and dropping her shorts on the wet ground. she wraps her hand around her own cock, slapping your pussy with "fuck look at you" she says, her finger already circling your clit, "spread out like this on my car, opening yourself up for me. you want my cock that bad?"

you whine, bucking up when abby finally pushes her fingers past the ring of muscle, stretching you out, "y-yes " you mumble, "been thinking about you ever since i saw you in the g-gym window, wanted your cock right there and then" abby hums, fingering you slowly. you are loud, whining and moaning and pushing back against her fingers, asking her to fuck you faster, deeper. "your cock a-abs, your cock" you sight, spreading your legs even wider. abby kneads her fingers in your pussy, drinking in the way you gape and suck her fingers in. she can only imagine how tight we will be around her cock.

and the reality is better than imagination in this case, because the moment you push in, abby knows you won't last long. you let out a silent moans, your walls incredibly tight around abby's cock. both of them are breathing loud, adjusting to the new wonderful feeling. abby trying to grip your waist, the skin slipper from the soap and water. after a minute, you look at her over your shoulder, wet strands of hair sticking to your forehead and neck. you look absolutely breathtaking, tears at the edge of your eyes and lips puffed and red, "move abby please", you plead, "just fuck me p-please" and abby is a weak woman.

she pulls out almost completely, before thrusting right back in, you letting out a loud moan, yours head falling down on the hood with a loud thump, "y.yeah like that". abby keeps thrusting in and out, your body moving along the hood, moans and groans and sighs filling the empty space. she knows she’s fucking you hard, and yet you keep demanding more, faster, harder.

so abby can only grab your thighs and piston with immense strength. you’re falling apart with every thrust, too gone to sound coherent anymore. "fuck you're so fucking tight.. God look at you" abby groans, clit twitching when you push back to fuck on her cock, your hips meeting midway, "taking it so well, you were born to take cock weren't you?"

and you can only nod and whine, mumbling about how good she feels, how full you are. it's when you get up on your elbows, fucking yourself back on abby's cock with the small energy you mustered up, head laid back and the muscles of her back tensing that abby tops over the edge, barely able to pull out before shooting the faux cum all over your back with a loud moan. you whine at the loss, body shaking by being so /close/ and yet not able to come yet. you wiggle on the hood, "please abs i wanna come"

and abby pushes herself to her knees the next second, pulling your cheeks apart and sucking at your swollen clit, her tongue lazily thrusting up and down your slit. with the warm wet feeling of her tongue, you double over, body spasming with the force of your orgasm, spurring white all over abby’s face and dripping on to the hood of the car. it takes a couple of minutes for both to calm down, a minute in which they kiss slowly, abby massaging the skin of your back.

you chuckle when she gets up, and sees the mess on both herself and the car. you turn towards abby, who's staring at the ground, a blush coloring her flustered face and ears seem to have an even deeper red. you just giggle and string your bikini bottom back on going to your bag to out back on your shirt and shorts, before walking towards her and ruffling her hair, "guess i owe you another service since the car is even dirtier than before dont you think?" abby laughs and nods, you wrapping your arms around her neck.

#andrsnsgirl #‿︵‿୨margot’s drabbles୧‿︵‿#abby anderson x reader #margot writes︵︵ ིྀ #this is so slutty #abby anderson #tlou2 #abby tlou #im pulling these out my ass #abigail anderson #the last of us #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #tlou abby #abby x you

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vivwritesfics · 1 year

Text

Petit Monstre

Lando Norris + Y/N Leclerc = In Love

LandY/N + Charles Leclerc = One very angry big brother

2.1K

Lando Norris x Reader

Masterlist

"Are you a member of the Leclerc Family? Have you had to put up with these jokers for your entire life? Well you could be entitled to compensation."

Y/N Leclerc had her arms crossed over her chest, sunglasses covering her eyes, as she gestured back at her brothers. It had been incredibly difficult to get Charles and Lorenzo to participate, but Arthur had helped her to convince them.

"Call today and we at the Leclerc Justice Foundation could make you filthy, stinking rich."

The Leclerc brothers nodded their heads, sending sunglasses from the top of their heads to in front of their eyes.

The video was one of Y/N's most viewed on Instagram. It was hilarious, showing off exactly how much fun her brothers were. Y/N spent all of her time following Charles and Arthur around the world.

Her brothers were her everything. Y/N spent more time than she should have in the Ferrari garage with Charles. As his baby sister, she was his everything. Charles didn't bring his WAG to the races, he brought his little sister.

"What's up, Mon petit monstre?" Said Charles as Y/N walked over to him.

She pulled his hat from her head and placed it on her own. "Charlie," she said as she sat in the chair beside him. The hat was much too big on her head, sliding forward over her eyes. Y/N pushed it back and looked at her brother. "Do you think maman would kill me if I got a tattoo?" She asked her older brother.

"If she doesn't, Lorenzo will," Charles answered and went back to scrolling through his phone.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N draped herself over his back. "I ditched Arthur for you, you know," she muttered, giving him back his hat. "Think I made a mistake."

"No, you didn't. I'm way more fun than Arthur is and you know it," he said, finally turning to give her attention.

The youngest Leclerc sibling loved following her brother around Formula One. Mainly, she loved his friends, the other drivers she saw walking around the paddock. Of course, Charles had that rule around the paddock: No going near his little sister.

Everybody listened to that rule, everybody but Y/N. She didn't listen to her brother because, well, where was the fun in that.

Y/N avoided Max and Pierre. She wouldnt dare flirt with them. They were Charles' best friends and the first people he would murder. So, her next target?

Lando Norris was interesting to Y/N Leclerc. She had no other word for it, just interesting. Different from anybody she'd met before. Full of life and excitement. Y/N didn't know much about him until her brother introduced them (And then threatened Lando's life when he was caught flirting).

What Charles didn't know was that the flirting had continued behind his back. And Y/N was loving every second of it.

"Danny thinks I should get a tattoo," Y/N said, somewhat bitterly. "He thinks I should get a little cat on my hip."

Charles gave her something close to a glare. "No, Y/N, you're not getting a tattoo," he said, putting an end to the conversation.

But Y/N didn't much care about what her brother was saying. Not when none other than Lando Norris walked past. Her eyes snagged on his body, but she didn't let her gaze linger.

Her brother could never know. That was what the fun was, keeping things a secret from her brother. There was a certain thrill that came along with keeping things hidden. The less Charles knew, the better.

Arthur Leclerc had always prided himself on knowing Y/N the best out of all of the brothers. This wasn't entirely true though. He was slightly too young to be as protective if Y/N as Charles and Lorenzo were. He pulled her hair and pushed her around while Charles and Lorenzo helped her to cross the street. Arthur thought the most, but he didn't know quite as much as Charles and Lorenzo.

Arthur, though, was the first to work out about Y/N and Lando. Well, it was less working out and more accidentally walking in on the both of them post coitus.

It had taken Y/N a lot of time, money and love to stop Arthur from spilling everything to Charles and Lorenzo. She knew what would happen; they'd go into crazy protective brother mode and send her back to Monaco to be watched over by their mother.

If Arthur, Charles and Lorenzo got their way, Y/N would never date. She had to hide her first couple of boyfriends from her brothers, which sucked because a few of them were only with her to meet the Charles Leclerc.

While Y/N was watching Lando, her gaze a secret, Lando was staring at her through her sunglasses. He was too busy staring, almost running into a wall as he did so. They were supposed to meet later that night and Lando couldn't wait.

"Do you think you could go and bother somebody else?" Asked Charles as Y/N stole his hat yet again.

Y/N shook her head. But when she put her finger to her head in mock thought. "Well, I guess I could go and bother one of your friends, then," she said. "Maybe Carlos or Pierre or Esteban," she teased and walked away.

The fact that Charles didn't see his little sister for the rest of the day was... worrying. She was off doing god knows what, disturbing whoever. At least she wasn't causing chaos in the Ferrari garage anymore.

Y/N checked her phone. A text from Arthur, using their secret code, asking if she was seeing 'You-Know-Who' tonight. She messaged him back a quote from Harry Potter and then answered his question. Yes. Yes she would be seeing 'You-Know-Who' tonight. She'd be seeing him right now, in fact.

Hands covered her eyes. "Guess who," said a voice.

"Oh Carlos! I've been waiting for you all day!" Y/N cried and turned around, a wide smile on her face.

When she saw Lando standing there, her smile dropped. But it didn't last long. The smile was back on her face as she stepped into his embrace. "Hey," she said in a singsong voice as she looked up at him.

"Carlos, huh?" Lando tightened his grip on her, rocking from side to side as he held her.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders and struggled her arms out of his grip. She wrapped her arms around his neck and played with his hair. "Just wanted to piss you off," she said and kissed him.

Lando refused to let go of her. "So, we on for tonight?" He asked, releasing his grip slightly.

As Y/N nodded her head, her phone went off. She reluctantly stepped away from Lando and answered her phone. "What the hell do you want?" She snapped at her older brother.

"Just wondering where you are, mon petit monstre," Charles answered.

Turns out Charles started to worry while Y/N wasn't causing chaos in the Ferrari garage. She was either missing or getting bad ideas from Danny.

"I'm fine," she somewhat snapped. "I'll be back soon." Hanging up the phone, Y/N placed it back in her pocket and turned to Lando. "Sorry, Lan," she muttered and wrapped her arms back around his neck. "I've got to go before Charles comes looking."

Lando let out a sigh and kissed her. "Okay. I'll meet you in your hotel room later," he said and kissed her once again. Lando released Y/N and walked away. She waited one minute before following him.

***

Y/N waited in her hotel room, sat on her bed in her favourite set of underwear. It was black with little neon yellow/green stars on it. The same neon yellow/green as Lando's LN4 logo.

There was a knock at her hotel room door. A specific knock that she and Lando had come up with so they knew it was them and nobody else. After the knock the hotel room door opened and Lando stepped in (Y/N had given him her spare key card).

"Wow," said Lando as he stepped into the room. "Wow, wow, wow." He pushed the door shut behind him and leaned against it. "How did I get so lucky?"

"Just shut up and come here," she said and grabbed a hold of him. Y/N pulled him close and pressed her lips against his.

Lando was underneath her, his shirt off as they made out. His hands roamed her body touching her waist and running his hand down her back, towards her ass. "My god," he muttered as he pulled away. "You're incredible."

"I know," Y/N said and returned to kissing him.

Suddenly, there was a knock at her door. Y/N and Lando froze. "Y/N? It's Charles!"

"Shit, fuck, shit!" Y/N whispered as she jumped away from Lando. She grabbed his shirt and pulled it on as Lando climbed off of the bed. "Hide somewhere!"

"Where?"

"I don't know!"

They were frantic, running around to try and make things look normal. Y/N made the bed look as though she had just climbed out of it while Lando hid on the floor beside it. The bed was between him and the door hiding his body.

Running to the door, Y/N checked one last time that everything was normal and pulled it open. "Hey, Charlie," she said, breathless. "What can I do for you?"

Charles walked into the room and sat on Y/N's bed. "Something's up with you," he said and looked at his sister. "There's something you're hiding and you've got Arthur in on it too."

But then Charles took a closer look at what Y/N was wearing. "Is that an LN4 shirt?"

"Maybe," she said and looked away from her brother. "I think Lando's merch is cool."

Charles shook his head. "Just tell me what's going on with you, please! I'm worried about you!"

"Well don't be! I'm a big girl and I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she said.

There was a sneeze, a sneeze neither of the Leclerc siblings let out. Charles looked around the room. "Is somebody else here?" He asked and stood up.

"No!" Y/N cried, rushing over to the other side of the bed. Where Lando was hiding. Probably a bad idea, considering Charles now knew exactly where to look.

He stared for a full minute at the McLaren driver laying on the floor. "Lando," he said and gently kicked his foot. "What are you doing here?"

Lando was laying face down. It looked rather uncomfortable, but Charles wasn't ready to let him up just yet. "What are you doing here in my sisters room?"

Lando didn't answer.

"Lando?"

The McLaren driver pushed him up into a more comfortable position. "Oh, hey, Charles. What're you doing here?"

"I have every right to be here, you?"

"I..."

Y/N grabbed a hold of her brother. "Charles, he's dating me. We're dating."

Charles got up and left the room.

"Well, that went brilliantly," said Lando as he finally got to his feet. But Y/N was just staring at the door. At the door her brother had just left through. "Y/N?" He said, placing a hand on her back.

She just kept staring at the door. "He hates me."

"No, he doesn't."

"Yes, he does."

Y/N didn't speak to her brother until the next day, when she was down in the Ferrari garage, trying to get her to speak to him. "Come on Charles, you're overreacting," she said as she sat beside him.

"He's not going to talk," said Carlos as he came to sit beside her, sandwiching her in between the two Ferrari drivers.

Y/N turned her attention towards the Spanish driver. "Did he tell you?"

Carlos shook his head. "Lando did," he answered. "He's very happy."

Suddenly, Charles sat back and looked at his little sister. He stared at her, his green eyes staring into her soul. "Do you really love him?" He asked.

Y/N nodded her head. "Yeah, Charlie, I really do."

"Does he love you?"

"Yes!" Carlos answered for her.

Charles relaxed. He placed his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. "I'm going to say this one time and one time only, you and Lando have my approval. If he ever does anything to hurt you, Arthur, Lorenzo and I will murder him."

"That works for me."

3K notes · View notes

kquil · 10 months

Text

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PART 4

04 : DISAPPEAR

SUM. : you find out the truth about the boys' relationship

REQUEST. : this might be a dumb question but are the marauders also all in a poly relationship with each other? if so, i'd love one where the reader finally has that realisation and gets all blushy and starts to consider if they'd ever want to include her —@thepunisherfrankcastle

TAGS. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james ; tattoo artist sirius ; piercer remus ; only slight fluff ; mostly angst ; im so sorry ; reader finds out the truth ; but not really in the best way ; major misunderstanding trope ; sirius isn't a bad person! ; poly relationship revealed ; yay? ; distance ; walking away trope-ish ; james is precious ; remus trying to make the hard decisions ; our boys need a hug ; wolfstar ; starchaser ; angst angst angst ; im sorry im sorry im sorry!

LENGTH : 5.2k

← PREV. : 03 | GROCERIES

Hearing James giggling fills your chest with warmth and is so contagious that you have to bite your lip so as not to join him. He sees your resistance and moves his hand, making you freeze up and stop all movement. His index finger curls under your chin to lift your gaze as his thumb settles on your bottom lip and slowly draws it out from the press of your upper teeth.

“I can’t be the only one laughing, angel,” on his face is an innocent smile but you know he’s devilish — the raging fire he lights up inside you with the smooth delivery of his simple statement is evidence enough that he’s up to no good.

His light grasp offers barely any resistance when you lift your chin away, “that’s because I’m not ticklish like you,”

“Hey now,” he warns firmly but you can see the mutual playfulness reflecting clearly in his hazel eyes, it was like staring into clear honey, “you’re the one who’s colouring in my tattoo like a toddler,”

“I was bored,” you defend a little too quickly, getting huffy and exaggerating a pitiful pout. It was… a sight, James admits in his head; you look adorable like this and he wants to frame the image in his memory forever, “and besides, you agreed to it,”

“Yeah, so don’t tease me about being ticklish,” his hand reaches up to play with a strand of your hair before he leans down to press a kiss onto your forehead, where you feel his mischievous smile lift up the corner of his lips, “instead, tell me how much you love to hear my laugh,”

There’s no way you’ll ever admit that. Not to his face, at least…

“Woah, comfy are we?~” came the familiar teasing voice of Sirius, who walks into the room and almost has his eyes bulging out at the sight of you and James, “you lucky bastard, Prongs,” Sirius clicks his tongue but there’s no malice in his eyes or tone, “shirtless, all relaxed and cool, leaning back into the sofa with our doll on your lap and colouring in your tats,” your cheeks heat up under your skin when a shameless expression takes over James’s face and he sends a wink over at his fellow tattooist.

“I guess I saved the universe in a past life,” James chuckles, receiving an eye roll in return.

“And you, princess,” Sirius whistles playfully and leans down to kiss the crown of your head, “how lucky you are to have such well-sculpted muscles and a handsome face entertaining you,” the heat on your cheeks continue to blossom, “I don’t know who I’m more jealous of,”

That was the first time you were hinted at Sirius’s dichotomy. Between the wink he sends James and the satisfied grin the glasses-wearing brunette returns, you felt a slight shaking in your heart that you couldn’t quite place.

It didn’t feel bad… but it didn’t feel good either…

After the first homemade lunch you made for them, you’ve gotten into the habit of regularly visiting the boys at the shop with boxed lunches whenever time nears noon. They often insisted that the first surprise lunch was enough thanks.

“It’s really okay for you not to do this, dove,” Remus voices, slowly trailing off as he leans forward to wipe a stray crumb off the side of James’ mouth with his thumb, only to lick the crumb he wiped off without batting an eye. James pays him no mind either and continues savouring your cooking; he was always the one person who devoured your food as if he was a starved man being fed for the first time.

“But–” you quickly protest, trying to dismiss the small gesture between the two, “but I enjoy cooking for you,”

“And we’re very grateful,” Sirius smiles warmly at you and takes your hand to press a kiss against your knuckles, “but your company is enough,” ever the flatterer and flirt, you resist the butterflies in your stomach from his gesture and words.

“And we feel guilty that you have to buy and cook all this food,” Remus adds but you assure them one more time.

“I promise I’ll stop if it ever gets too hard or burdensome but, for now, please let me do it…” the boys look at each other and smile following a unanimous sigh of defeat. You weren’t aware of the effect your soft pleas and pretty eyes had on them. Of course, they couldn’t say ‘no’ and agreed, satisfied with your pledge for the meantime.

“Ugh! These cookies are amazing!” James praises, completely oblivious to the interaction you had with Remus and Sirius. He looks up and the three of you have to suppress your laughter at his childish appearance, crumbs surrounding his mouth as his cheeks puffed out from the food he still had to chew.

“Swallow your food first, James,” Remus reminds, which James quickly does before addressing you again.

“Can you please teach me?” James leans forward in earnest and you swear there are stars in his eyes, “please teach me how to make them so I can have them all the time. I’m an expert at making fruit tarts now but Moony and Padfoot are sick and tired of me making just fruit tarts,”

You were flattered but…“I want them to stay special though,” you pout softly, “I want to be the only person who bakes them for you,”

Before James could answer, Sirius breaks out into peels of laughter, “you don’t have to worry about that, doll,” he winks at you and side-eyes James with a smirk, “James sucks ass in the kitchen, especially when it comes to baking,” James shouts in protest but is swamped by the laughter shared between you, Remus and Sirius. Nevertheless, you finally agreed to teach him just so he stops pouting… even if he looked cute doing so.

That Saturday, you were at their apartment, eager to teach James the secrets to your baking creations. Their flat was sizable and still relatively clean, which you verbally praise and are clued into all of their cleaning habits in more detail. It appears that they have a pretty good system going on that keeps things neat; Remus handles the organisation of all items and keeps stock on most things, Sirius proactively keeps all spaces clean and James loves doing laundry. When asked, he said that the main reason was because he liked the smell of clean sheets, which you couldn’t really blame him for. Together, their good habits cumulatively result in a tidy space and you were impressed; not only were they great friends but they functioned well together too. In some ways, you were envious of that.

When you arrived at the apartment, the boys had all of the ingredients you sent over on a list laid out on their kitchen counters, ready to be put together and baked into your famous cookies.

“Do you two want to join us?” you ask with a smile as James helped you into Sirius’ apron, tying up the strings behind you.

“We’re good, darling,” Sirius smiles and offers to tie up your hair as James slips into his apron. You don’t deny his assistance and hand him over your hair tie as Remus observes the scene with a soft smile, leaning against the door frame that leads into the kitchen.

As much as Sirius and Remus disparaged James’ abilities to bake in the kitchen, he, once again, proved them wrong. He did pretty well with following your instructions and getting things done if you discounted the times he got distracted and had to pull you away from the work as well, just to share in the fun. The last time you baked together was a lot of fun and you were just as eager to get back into the kitchen with him in order to experience that joy all over again. Like last time, Sirius and Remus occupied the living room while you and James got to making the cookie dough before eventually baking the cookies. With the timer set, it won’t be too long before you’re happily serving everyone yours and James’ baked cookies with some tea and coffee.

“It’s just down the hall,” James points out, directing you to their bathroom, “it’s the last door on your right,” with a quick word of thanks, you make your way out to relieve yourself while James gets started on clean up duty. You promised not to be too long so he didn’t have to clean all by himself but he just laughed it off and assured you to take all the time you need — ever the sweetheart.

Your mood was light and happy and, like all other times you spent with the boys, it felt as if you were walking on air… that is, until you weren’t. From the corner of your eye, when passing the living room doorway, your heart came to a stuttering stop at the scene you happened upon.

Seated on the sofa was Remus with Sirius’ laid down, his head on the tall brunette’s lap. It would have been a scene you could have easily shrugged off if it weren’t for Remus bending down so that the two could share a loving kiss. One that had Sirius running his fingers through Remus’ light brown hair, who returned the touch by tenderly gripping at Sirius’ thigh with a spare hand. You would have remained frozen there, like some petrified statue, if Sirius didn’t hum pleasantly only to have Remus chuckle against his lips.

Hurrying to the bathroom, you struggle to get the scene out of your head as your heart breaks over and over again until the stinging pain in your chest dulls into a throbbing ache.

If they were in a loving relationship then you were happy for them, truly…you were; they always looked so content and at bliss around each other, you felt stupid for not having put the puzzle pieces together yourself. It was just conflicting as to why they never hesitated to establish some sort of distance with you when they already had one another. They were together romantically and yet they were able to press loving kisses against your temple and wrap their arms around you with their loved one standing close by?...

“There you are,” James chuckles when you finally make it back into the kitchen, “I was starting to get worried that you somehow got lost on your way to the bathroom,” it was a weak attempt but you joined his laughter without offering to explain your whereabouts. Turning back to the sink, James returns to washing the dishes as you wordlessly get to wiping down the surfaces. He doesn’t appear to notice your sudden change in mood or, at least, he doesn’t let on that he knows; soon enough, he’s yapping away again, being his usual goofy self and drawing a smile from you. He almost makes you forget. You could always count on James to be your ray of sunshine; a happy bug who was eager to spread his contagious joy.

Sirius and Remus were a… surprise, although you really should have known better than to not suspect anything. They’re happy though, and you’re happy for them; that’s what matters.

It was hard to gauge whether or not you should confront them about the revelation you had about their relationship. You had to thoroughly think it over…

There had to be a reason behind why Remus and Sirius didn’t want to tell you about their relationship and managed to get James in on it too. It must have been a very good reason. So you can’t fault them and resolve to stay silent on the matter. Their privacy needs to be respected; they’ll tell you when they’re ready, you’re sure of it. For now, you just have to act normal, as if nothing happened. The only problem was that you were left to wonder…

Why haven’t they told you? Is it awkward for them? Maybe they didn’t trust you enough? Did they think you were homophobic?— You’re not! You fully support all types of love in all its forms and would never be prejudicial towards them because they preferred the same gender. Or maybe they did trust you but the right time just never came up? That’s also plausible. They probably just need time…yeah! Time, you can give them that; you’re a very patient person, after all—

“—Dove?”

“H-huh?” you blink rapidly, returning to the present as Remus tilts his head at you curiously.

“Are you okay?” there’s an amused smirk painted across his lips as he eyes you up and down, “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” his warm voice is like a comforting hug on an autumn day, one that makes you want to lose all thoughts and melt into his arms.

“Y-yeah!” you chirp as embarrassment begins to creep in, “Sorry about that,” he laughs with you, “I guess I got distracted,” Remus nods, understanding in his eyes as he turns to the clock on the office wall.

“The both of us have been at it for a while,” he hums when reading the time, “I think we deserve a break,”

“Snack run?”

Seeing the delight in your eyes, Remus laughs and presses a kiss to your temple. It takes everything in you not to lean away out of respect for Sirius —you still need to act as normal as possible so you don’t draw attention but it’s getting harder and harder to do so, “snack run,” he confirms, his gaze lingering on your tight-lipped smile. It’s an awkward tilt of your lips and it doesn’t belong on your usually soft and brightly beaming features, Remus thinks to himself. He wants to ruminate on it’s appearance further but files away his thoughts for another day, “let me tidy up here first and I’ll meet you out front,”

Nodding stiffly, you hurry to leave and get to the front of the parlour, where you can safely catch your breath. There, you can recalibrate your thoughts and feelings from a safe distance—

Your gradually slowing thoughts come to a grinding halt as you pass.

What did you just see?...

Angling yourself carefully and peeking through the crack of the door, you resist the urge to gasp in horror. In an otherwise empty tattoo room, Sirius sits in his tech chair and angles himself upwards as James stands and leans down to meet the former in a sweet kiss.

Scandalised, you cover your mouth and step away from the door, suppressing a scream as racing thoughts pour into your head.

SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!SiriusIsCheatingOnRemusWithJames!

All breath escapes you and the world begins to spin. The charming, loyal and honest character of Sirius that you’ve built up in your head breaks apart and you’re left spiralling at the implications of his betrayal. You feel like crying and vomiting and throwing a rage-filled fit all at the same time! Wait! —No! It’s not about what you want to do it’s about what you need to do and that’s to—

It was then that you hear Remus walking down the steps behind you. Your heart jumps in your chest and your stomach caves in on itself. Leaning forward, you peek through the crack in the open door again and find Sirius carefully prepping his tools for a later appointment while James is against one wall on the other side of the room, checking something on the computer.

Good… Remus doesn’t have to see anything… you think to yourself, although the thought alone makes your heart break all over again.

“Ready to go?” Remus asks, approaching you with a lifted brow of curiosity. He’s probably wondering why you haven’t made it to the front of the parlour yet.

“I-I was just thinking!…uhh,” you bite your lip and try to keep your rising panic from reflecting in your eyes.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t really want to go on a snack run,”

“Oh?” Remus didn’t even try to hide his surprise, it wasn’t like you to not go on a snack run — so much for wanting to act normal… “How come?”

“I just remembered something-!” it was a lame excuse but you could kill two birds with one stone through this, it’ll be worth it, “-something I wanted to talk to Sirius about—”

“You called?~” speak of the devil and he shall appear. Upon hearing his name, Sirius pulls open the door and flashes his usual charming smile, which only draws a chilling glare from you. Caught off-guard, Sirius blinks in surprise, “What’s the matter, dollface?”

A taunting whistle floats through the air from behind him as James steps up and eyes your unusually angry expression, “what did you do this time, Pads?”

“I-I don’t know…” his normally confident, unwavering voice stutters and is offered cautiously, almost scared despite the tattooist standing a good few inches taller than you.

Finding some confidence, you square your shoulders and address Remus again but keep your glare focused on Sirius, “Why don’t you and James go on a snack run while I talk to Sirius?” you almost snap out the cheater’s name from spite. You can’t believe you ever deluded yourself into thinking he was a good person that could do no wrong. He’s charmed you, Remus and James, tricked all three of you and you weren’t going to stand for it.

The two boys jokingly wish their friend ‘good luck’ as they walk past and head out, promising to get his favourites so he can nurse his wounds from the verbal beat-down he was about to receive with something yummy. It’s clear that James and Remus don’t really believe you’re capable of delivering much vengeance or rage but the fire in your eyes tells Sirius otherwise. As soon as the front door closes behind the two, you push Sirius back into the private tattoo room before he could utter a single word.

“You need to explain yourself, Sirius Orion Black and you need to do it now!” you demand, your voice harsh and biting, something you’ve never done in front of the boys before and catches the traitor, in your eyes, by complete surprise. Sirius doesn’t know what he’s done but he already feels incredible guilt and sorrow over it. He’s never wanted to draw out such a horrid emotion out of you; you’re only allowed to feel happiness and love and comfort. Not this. Never this…

“I-I don’t understand, princess—” he reaches for you but you step away from his touch, your piercing glare and obvious rejection stabbing a knife through his chest. You’ve never pulled away from his reach before, he’s not used to this. What did he do? He would take it all back, whatever he did, if it meant that you would lean into his touch again rather than pull away. He’d do anything to quash the evident flames of rage in your eyes. What did he do?... What did he do goddamnit?!

“I saw it! I saw everything! You’re playing both of them!” you shout, your rage lashing out and scorching him with their intense heat. There was no holding you back, you told him everything, about how you saw his kiss with Remus and James. His eyes widen in shock before filling with horror, which does nothing but corroborate your heart breaking revelations, “I don’t want to believe it! How could you do this to them, Siri?...” your shouting voice slowly quietens and tapers off at the end, quivering like a shaken autumn leaf. So heartbroken over the fact, your rage quickly turns into sorrow and tears quickly fill your eyes, “You’re better than that, I know you are!” and you really do. No matter how betrayed you feel and having witnessed the evidence first hand, you cling onto the little slither of faith you still had in Sirius, “Please tell them the truth, they deserve the truth… they deserve you being forthcoming with them because they’re good guys,”

Looking on at you, Sirius feels his heart break. This misunderstanding was tearing you up inside and, although it makes him happy to know that you would confront him and be angry for the boys at his supposed betrayal, watching you break down, and sob uncontrollably made Sirius’ heart twist and clench uncomfortably— painfully so.

Without a word, he reaches out again and is able to bring you into his arms. You don’t return the gesture but you make no effort to push him away either.

“Shhh Shhh Shhhhhh, darling…” Sirius whispers comfortingly, softly patting your hair as he waits for your sobbing to calm down enough for him to come clean. Scrap the plan, whatever bullshit plan they came up with to slowly ease you into accepting their relationship before selfishly asking for your love as well. He wasn’t going to let you continue misunderstanding their relationship, especially when it’s causing you so much pain, “...this is all a big misunderstanding…” he begins softly once your cries were finally reduced to soft sniffles, “do you know what polyamory is, sweetheart?”

“...n-no…”

“It’s when more than two people agree to be in a loving, romantic relationship with each other, all at the same time,” he explains in the same soft voice, his arms never pulling away from you as he feels you slowly lose your grip on resistance.

“Is…is that…”

“Yes, that’s the relationship James, Remus and I are all a part of…” he looks down with a gentle smile and watches you peek up at him curiously. Sirius resists the urge to swoop down and pepper your face with kisses. Just when he thought his love for you couldn’t grow any bigger, here you were being the sweetest, most caring and lovable little thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

However, you slowly begin to shake your head and the resistance in your eyes and expression returns. This time you push him away and keep him at arm's reach. Like a scared prey animal being cornered by a predator, you inch your way back until you're pressing yourself against the wall beside the door. It takes Sirius two steps forward to finally stop and keep his place so that you don’t feel pushed or stressed by his presence.

“I-I won’t believe you until James and Remus say so…”

He shrugs and gives you a pained smile. He supposes he can’t blame you for being cautious and not believing him, he’s the apparent ‘cheater’, afterall.

You watch Sirius part his lips to voice something when you hear the parlour door open and rush into the hallway to see James and Remus walk in. The two were grinning cheekily at each other and their arms were piled high with an assortment of snacks. They held true to their promise; you could spot many of Sirius’ favourites among the pile and it made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

As soon as the two look up and see your dishevelled form, your eyes pink and tearful, your bottom lip wobbling from restrained cries and your frame closed up like a frightened clam, the snacks are carelessly disregarded and they rush to your side.

“Dove?” Remus calls, worry evident in his voice as he steals a glance at Sirius over your trembling shoulder. The response he was given — tight lips, drawn into a straight line and unreadable eyes — wasn’t enough, however and his chocolate pools hardened into brown stone. What. Did. You. Do?... Remus silently interrogated the tattooist.

“What happened, angel?” James immediately wraps his arms around you and you almost melt into his hold if it weren’t for your need to clarify everything dominating your thoughts.

“Are you and Remus in a relationship with Sirius?” your hesitant voice, small and fraying at the edges, speaks up but barely above a whisper. The two men visibly stiffen beside you and you feel a well of tears quickly building up again; your thoughts immediately jumping to the worst possible outcome.

“Tell her the truth. Give her peace of mind, lads,” Sirius speaks up, his own voice lacking its usual confidence and was reduced to a vulnerable softness.

“Yes,” Remus affirms after a beat of silence.

“We’re all consenting, we all love each other, mutually!” James pipes up, his tone bordering on defensive despite not knowing what he’s their relationship defending from, “You…you don’t think of us differently do you?”

“No! No no no! Of course not,” you quickly elucidate your thoughts, your shoulders relaxing as you turn and meet eyes with Sirius, mustering a small smile, “it’s actually quite a relief,”

Grinning softly, Sirius steps up to explain the situation, “Dollface over here thought that I was cheating on you and James with each other, Rem,” he chuckles softly, amusement in his eyes though it still lacked their full brightness, “she gave me a good shouting to and looked like she was ready to bite my head off if I didn’t ‘come clean’ to both of you,” Remus laughs and pulls Sirius into a sideways hug as James coos lovingly at you.

“You got angry for us, angel?” James presses his face into your hair and nuzzles you affectionately, “you’re the sweetest~” he coos, his smirk growing as he feels an embarrassed heat radiating off your cheeks.

“St-stop the James,” you whine with an awkward smile and wiggle yourself out of his arms, avoiding his pouting lips because you know your resolve will melt away at the sight. It was confirmed. They were in a relationship, all three of them, with each other. You should be happy that Sirius wasn’t a cheater and still the wonderful man you saw him to be. But, no matter how happy you were for them, the twisting of your stomach and the gaping hole in your heart wasn’t easily fixable.

The following weeks, you maintained the friendship you had with the boys, who no longer felt the need to limit their intimate touches around you. However, whenever they tried to initiate affection with you, as per usual, once the innocent kiss on the temple and harmless hug was now fervently being rejected by you and pushed away. You had no intention of disrespecting their relationship, even if most acts of affection you exchanged as friends were innocuous. But, then again, it was also your way of protecting your already shattered heart. Yes, you could just stay away from them entirely but you had built such a strong friendship with them that it didn’t feel right to candidly pretend that you’ve never met them before. It’ll do more harm than the harm you were inflicting now…

Ever the observant man that he was, Remus knew the instant reason behind your hesitation and was quick to reassure you the next time you were invited over for tea.

“It’s really okay, sweetheart,” the tall brunette hums softly as James and Sirius agree from their own seats, “we’re okay with it and you aren’t going to come in between any of us, I promise you,”

Stubbornly, you shake your head, pulling a deep frown from all of them.

“Are you not comfortable with it?” James asks with uncertainty, his question and its potential implication is filled with enough dread to make even his two lovers stiffen up.

You nod your head ‘yes’ and they slump in their rejection. It hurt to know that the revelation of their relationship had pushed you away when the basic nature of their affair meant more love for everyone. And they wanted it to include you… Their romance that led to such an abundance of love and promises of more was now paradoxically pushing you away. For once, they didn’t know what to do, not a single one of them could come up with any idea to resolve the ever-growing tension in your relationship. It was a rubber band ready to snap.

“If you’re uncomfortable then we’ll respect that and keep our distance, touch-wise” Remus surrenders despite the heartbreak it gives him while Sirius shoots up and sends him an irate glare, one that Remus coldly returns. It wasn’t a question of their comfortability but yours, Sirius needed to regard that to the highest degree and Remus was all too ready to make him face the music. They can’t afford to lose you and if it meant that he needed to make the hard decisions then so be it.

“Thank you,”

“...do you not want to be around us anymore?” James speaks up, not necessarily taking things to their extremes but rather potential, future escalations. He’s seen it. In the days and weeks that followed the divulgence of their true relationship, bit by bit you have begun to pull away from them to the point where James can vividly see where the escalation of your behaviour will lead and it’s frightening. One day, you’ll just disappear and that terrifies him.

“No no…” your weak defence, lacking true resolve, ignites a shock of terrorising fear in all three of them, their eyes shaking with trepidation. But you couldn’t see it because you couldn’t look at them, like a coward. Because that’s what you are — a coward. The heartbreak was chipping away at you. You thought you would be brave enough to see them happy together but you couldn’t. Because, not only were you a coward, but you were selfish too. Green with envy, you stewed in that awful, stomach-twisting, heart-aching, bitter-tasting, gut-wrenching feeling each time you saw every loving kiss, affectionate cuddle and sweetly whispered words.

Throughout your friendship you grew to love each of them as more than a simple friend. You know it was wrong but they were all so charming in their own, unique way. They treated you sincerely, cared for you without any sinister, ulterior motives and they’ve successfully wormed their way into your life and heart, permanently.

What was once something that brought you such joy, warmth and feelings of safety was now mercilessly ripping you apart.

Their dynamic looked different to you now that you were looking through a different lens. They weren’t just close friends anymore, they were very much in love and have been romantically involved for a few years now — it was one of the first things you found out about their relationship. Its longevity was a testament to their unwavering love for each other and here you were, secretly, selfishly and salaciously hoping for your own slice of the love pie.

How dare you…

Just because you’ve had such bad luck with love didn’t mean you had the right to wish for something that couldn’t possibly become yours. You have no right to ask them for love when they are completely content with their own.

“Please don’t push us away, dollface,” Sirius begs softly, his steel grey eyes melting into a pool of mercury. Beautiful but poisonous. Something you want but can’t have.

“I’m sorry,” you’re breathless when you see the genuine fear in their eyes and turn away from the sight. This isn’t the time to turn weak at the knees, “it’s getting pretty late, I should go,” shouldering your bag, you get up and rush to leave their flat.

“Stay,” Remus half commands and half begs, almost stopping you in your tracks, “please stay… we need to talk to you about something important,” if there was any time for them to reveal the truth, it was now. Before they lose you, before they drown themselves in regret, before they fall into a pit of despair, before they—

“I’m sorry…” you repeat and, just as James feared, you disappear.

A/N : this took such a long while to write but i wanted it to be perfect, thank you so much for requesting this darling @thepunisherfrankcastle it fit perfectly into the plot although i did make some slight altercations to your request. unfortunately, there's still more to go after this so i'm going to have to leave you darlings with a cliffhanger, look out for part 5! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

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jarofstyles · 14 days

Text

The Favor 10

It’s been 800 years… but she’s back! The duo has arrived. I can’t wait to see what you guys think of them

The Favor masterlist

Check out our Patreon for early access to part 11 and 190+ exclusive writings

WC- 7.8k

Warnings- aftercare, dom/sub dynamic, mention of cuckolding, theyre kinda fucked up about Danny but fuck that man, slight mention of anxiety, oral sex, mention of edging, daddy kink(very brief) domesticrry

Aftercare was one of her absolute favorite parts of being with Harry.

Sitting in the warm, silky bath water after returning home from the club, she had been babied, petted and loved on more than she ever knew in her life. Rings off of his fingers, he ran them over her body with the sweet smelling body wash as he kept her laid on his chest. Her nose nudged the crook of his neck, cheek on one of the inked numbers on his collarbones. He’d messily tied her hair up on her head, ensuring it wouldn’t get too wet. It was the little things

“What did we like, what were we not so fond of, and what surprised you?” His voice vibrated against her cheek as he inquired about her experience. The dominant had taken incredible care of her tonight, swiftly letting them leave after she recovered in his lap with sweet kisses and her focus solely on him. His clean hand had caressed her cheek and he’d tugged her panties back over her before ushering her out as soon as her legs felt strong enough. He’d put her coat on her, adjusted her hair and placed a few kisses on her cheek as they waited for the elevator with a promise of getting them a playroom the next time they came so they’d not need to rush home.

His reference to his house as ‘home’ had left her feeling more warm and fuzzy in her gut than she could care to admit.

“I liked all of it, except maybe having to leave so quick.” She’d sunken into his hold, letting him run the warm washcloth over her chest as she spoke. “I liked your idea of getting a room next time so we don’t have t’run home so fast after. But I liked all of what we did.” Her eyes looked over his hands, the bones of his knuckles and the cross inked near his thumb. Her tummy turned slightly at the idea of everyone having been able to see that same hand around her throat, squeezing it to keep her quiet. That cross tattoo against her skin. Blasphemy had never felt so good.

“Mmm. Noted. I noticed you seemed rather calm when we were at the table originally.” He pointed out the behavior. “Did you like being on your knees for me like that? What was goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” The tone of it restrained just how badly he wished he could crawl in her head and read every thought she had like a book. Though sometimes there was a thought that maybe he could. He did well enough with knowing what she felt through body language alone.

“Honestly?” A little laugh erupted from her swollen lips. “Not a lot. It was really nice because of it. At first it was a lot of racing thoughts but as I sat there and you kept playing with my hair they all sorta calmed. The one thing I was thinking about, though…” Now that she wasn’t looking right at his face it felt a little easier to divulge some of the things that had her a little embarrassed. “I kept thinking about if I was gonna be naughty, cause I really wanted to suck you off.” The admission lingered like the steam on the bathroom mirror. “I was debating if you’d let me, if you’d get mad at me. But I didn’t want to chance asking because…” The bravery she’d originally conjured up had faltered slightly, which he noticed.

“Because what, love?” He asked genuinely. “Y’know you can ask me for anything. M’never going to get mad at a request- you just have to be open to hearing the word no and waiting for it.” Harry had a hard time telling her no, but he wasn’t sure she knew just how far that went. As a dominant, he’d found a healthy medium with her where he could do it for the sake of knowing what she needed to get her the best results, but as Harry? She had no idea the power she wielded over his weak will.

“Well, I was nervous that if I upset you or went off script that maybe you’d like- you’d not want to bring me anymore, or be my dominant. I know that most of the submissives you’ve brought there had some idea of it and I know you’re only doing this as a favor so I don’t want to risk you decided I’m too much of a brat-” Y/N’s entire world was flipped as her body was turned over, a startled squeak leaving her as Harry manhandled her to be straddled on his lap as opposed to sitting back to front.

“Stop right there.” His voice rasped, hand coming behind her neck to hold lightly. “There is a lot wrong with what you just said.” Nerves swelled in her belly as she caught a glimpse of his face, but there wasn’t true anger in his features. Concern, maybe? “ First of all, I wouldn’t just stop playing with you because you decided you felt a little bratty. Do you know what I would have done if you’d have been a brat?” Green looked at her expectantly, watching her shrink slightly under his gaze, shaking her head in response. “I’d have punished you. Maybe taken you over my lap and gave your ass a few swats, maybe I’d make you warm my cock with your mouth, or fucked your throat without giving you my cum. I could’ve even made it so you didn’t orgasm tonight. But it’s part of playing. I would never think of you as a bad submissive because of that. You’ve already told me you wanted to test some of that out as it is.” The feeling that had settled in his chest at the idea of her feeling insecure about him not wanting her was uncomfortable to say the least. Maybe he hadn’t spelled it out clear enough, but it was time to do that now.

“And the most ridiculous part of what you said- hey, look at me. Look at me, Y/N. Oi, sweetheart… You’re not in trouble.” His voice softened as he saw her wince, not at all wanting this to turn into a real scolding. The tone had been a bit intense considering how fully he felt about it, but she couldn’t read his mind. It had been unfair of him to think she would. “There we go. Thank you.” When she returned to his gaze, he leaned forward to peck the corner of her mouth- it was something he couldn’t help. “The most ridiculous part of all of that was you saying that I’m only doing this as a favor because…” His mouth felt a little dry as he broached the subject. “That isn’t the case in the slightest. I wouldn’t have done this only as a favor, Y/N. I would have accompanied you to find someone else to help you if need be, but if I had no sort of fondness over you at first sight, no attraction, I would have denied. If we’re being honest here, it isn’t an ideal situation.” It was immediate that he could see her eyes falter, making him curse internally.

“Darling, none of that. No. M’not going where you think I am.” Squeezing the back of her neck, he tried to offer more physical comfort. “What I’m saying is going into this I had no idea what to expect, but we fell into it so naturally. Didn’t we?” The corners of his lips twitched as he watched her nod in agreement. “Yeah. It was very easy for us to fall into it. You’re such a fast learner, such a good girl, I enjoy every single moment between us. In the arrangement or not. I’m not just doing this as a favor to your shitty boyfriend, darling. M’doing this because I want to be.” The statement hung between them for a few moments before he continued, noting the surprise on her face. “I really don’t think there’s anything you can do to make me want t’stop doing this with you. I know it’s inappropriate to say that, I know you’ve got a complicated situation going on with him, but there are things we need to talk about soon and I think that it’s better suited for a fresh mind that isn’t emotionally wrought after such an experience.”

There was a hint at what it was obviously about, that there were more feelings than either of them had bargained for, but after an intimate moment and the visit to the club he was making sure she had time to think on it and relax before he dropped a bomb that would inevitably change the relationship.

As much as he wanted to be selfish right now, he cared too much about her. He liked her so much that it knocked the wind out of him if he thought about it for too long. Moving his grip, his hand cupped her chin as he searched her face. Conflict, interest, relief, attraction, there were a lot of big emotions he could place on her face, but he couldn’t make out what to fully make of them.

“Okay.” Y/N sighed, lifting her wet hand to the back of his neck to mirror how he’d been holding her. It felt slightly possessive in nature and he had to admit that he really fucking liked how it felt. “Is it okay if we kiss, though? Even now?”

Harry was right to wait because obviously her brain was still a little fuzzy from their play earlier if she thought she had to ask for permission to kiss him. As if he didn’t want their mouths attached for hours at a time. Leaning himself up off of where he’d leaned his neck against the back of the tub, he connected their lips in a soft gesture. Thumbing over her chin, affections clear with how tenderly he touched her. She was so soft, so pliant in his arms that he could feel her melting at the kiss. This was what he wanted.

If he had it his way, he would have her in his bath or shower every single night. There would be no ‘going home’ because this would be her home. This would be her bathroom, and she’d leave her mascara tubes on the vanity that he’d inevitably put away later when she was asleep or otherwise distracted.

“Just to ease your fears a little…” She spoke lightly against his lips. “Whatever the discussion, I’m sure that however you feel is the same as I do. So don’t worry about a thing.”

Her reassurance, despite being the one who initially needed it, touched him. Sometimes he forgot he needed that too, and Y/N had been the one so far to remind him that the right person would check in on him too. As much as he loved and craved being the one in control, feeling cared for beyond the ropes and leather was something that he really loved. “Ditto, darling.” He laughed quietly. “Let me finish washing you up so we can have a proper cuddle, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

—-

Harry had left momentarily to grab himself a refill on his water bottle- and to fill her own. It has become a bit of a habit now, seeing things and being reminded of Y/N. It had started slowly at first, reminders trickling in when he cleaned up after she left and the house felt weirdly empty. Then it was seeing the menu and a meal she would probably like, or the song she had showed him played in the radio. The pink pony song, more specifically. A car that looked like hers.

It had snowballed into him finding bits of her in everywhere he went. Realistically he knew he was in dangerous territory, not even bothering to duck for cover anymore as he made sure the straw was clean and popped the lid back onto the blue coated aluminum bottle. A powder blue with cherries and strawberries decorated all over it, something he had a feeling she would like based off of the cherry print panties she had ‘accidentally’ left here and the same ones he had lost his mind over finding.

It was a little bit of a blurred line, if he was allowed to buy her gifts like this, but he wanted to and she deserved cute little trinkets so when he’d seen it while shopping for some new food storage for his snacks, he’d thrown caution to the wind and added it to his cart.

It was ridiculous to be worried about her reaction to a water bottle, but he still was. He didn’t want to overstep but he also didn’t want to hide all of his intentions anymore. Harry liked her, liked-her liked her. He wanted her. There was no doubt in his mind he could provide leaps and bounds more for her than her current partner who had effectively handed her over to him on a silver platter, something he couldn’t ever dream of doing.

Harry knew that if he got the privilege of calling the woman his in all senses, he’d do anything he could to make her happy himself. No other men would be touching her. Looking? Fine. Welcomed, even with him being borderline selfish thus far. But touching would never happen because he wanted to own the rights to her orgasms and her nails in his skin and the trembling limbs underneath him. The taste of her mouth and the heat of her wrapped around him. No one else would get the pleasure.

It went beyond that, though. Walking up the steps with the bottles in hand, ice clinking in the out of them, he felt light thinking about walking in to see her with her hair piled on her head and one of his shirts on top of her form. She would be in his bed, safe and sound, waiting for him to hold her in his arms and relax her enough to sleep.

He also had to tell her about the text that had been waiting on his phone, but he wasn’t sure just how to break that.

The view was just as amazing as he imagined it, the girl sitting cross cross on her side of the bed with her phone in her hand- which was promptly clicked shut as he gained her attention.

“I got you something.” He murmured, sitting himself next to her. “It’s uh- I saw it the other day and it reminded me of you. The colors and the fruits on it. I figured you could have something to stay on your side of the bed.”

Y/N took the bottle in her hand, eyes widening slightly as she brought it up to take a look at it. His eyes studied her as she looked at the bottle, then back to him, then to the bottle. He hadn’t expected her to place the bottle to the side or for her eyes to be teary when she turned back to him, but there was little time to react before she threw herself at him. Climbing into his lap, her fingers splayed on his cheeks as she kissed over his lips and chin, making him laugh in surprise at such a large reaction. It was just a water bottle, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“Woah- woah, darling.” He chortled, wrapping an arm around her while putting his own bottle on the nightstand. “You alright?”

Concern brewed from the tears, but her smile was there as she nodded quickly. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m happy. I thought the kisses would show that- ouch!” The sass was interrupted by a pinch to her ass, Harry smirking as she gave him a look before it softened. The dynamic had shifted. It wasn’t just him being ‘Sir’ right now- that’s the same thing he’d do to Y/N. Not just his Pet.

“They did, even if they came from a smart mouth. I’m just unsure why you’re still crying, love.” He kept his tone light while wiping away a tear track, but it felt good to know it was a happy tear. There was no instance that Y/N would look bad. He was fully convinced of this.

“It’s just- I’ve never had someone do that before. I always hear people talk about their friends or significant others who say ‘oh, I saw this and thought of you’ and gave them something. And it isn’t about getting anything with money! It could be a rock, for all I care. It’s just… I dunno.” She ducked her head slightly, looking at his bare torso. “It felt nice to have that. It’s never been me, you know? Not saying no one cares about me but just in general, I think it means more because you… you know me better than most do.”

Even in the short time they’d known each other, Y/N was fairly certain Harry knew her better than Danny. Listened better, too. Every gift she had gotten from Danny had been something she had to point out. Nothing of his own accord. Every day with Harry had her questioning why she was still with the other man, even if only in name right now.

“You deserve those things. I wasn’t sure if it was an overstep so I.. I held off a bit on giving it to you. But if you’re okay with this sort of thing, it’s very often in my day that I find things that make me think of you. Is it okay if I get them? Give you gifts?” The question was asking permission so she didn’t feel overwhelmed or indebted. He wanted to do this. She hadn’t asked or implied it, but he liked giving her things. Orgasms, water bottles, smoothies, the lot.

“I… well, as long as it isn’t really expensive, sure.” She couldn’t be blamed for feeling excited. Having a man who wanted to do that for you, let alone expressing that he thought about her often enough to find things in their daily lives that they felt compelled to buy? He seemed unreal. Part of her wanted to doubt it, think that he wouldn’t actually do it, but Harry’s shown nothing but follow through.

“Amazing.” There was something lighter on his face. “Uh, I don’t want you to think this is just to soften a blow, because I promise that it isn’t. But I wanted to show you a text I got. I didn’t check my phone most of the night but, this was what I got.” The visible nerves on his face had her slightly confused.

Y/N’s brows furrowed as she looked down at his phone, Danny’s contact pulled up. He hadn’t texted since they’d went to meet the first time to discuss this arrangement, but the most recent one had her stomach dropping.

‘Hey h, was wondering how it’s going? I know it’s a weird request but can u ask y/n if she would be down to have me see what it is you guys get up 2? I kno it’s a weird thing to ask and I kno ima little tipsy lol but I keep thinking about what you guys are doing and idk I’m a little jealous. Maybe seeing it will calm that down? Idk idk idk. Can you run it by her?’

Another one followed.

‘We haven’t been talking a lot bc I want 2 give her space to get this out of her system and I don’t want her 2 be mad @ me but idk. I want to see it. Thanks bro’

Y/N sat silently as she looked at the phone, her mind going haywire as she tried to develop the right response. There was one answer she felt currently that was definitely not the right thing to say, but it ended up slipping out of her mouth anyways. It seemed that Harry had mixed some sort of truth serum in his kisses or the fruit he fed her, because her words were probably a bit more truthful than she would have chosen to be.

“Is it bad that I…. I kinda want him to watch? Because I want him to know that he can never do that to me?” She whispered, dropping the phone on the bed next to them, turning her head to look at him. It was slightly uncomfortable to say but if they were going for the truth, she may as well go all the way. Even if it was something that may make her look bad. “I feel like a terrible person. I feel like…. He’s made me feel so shitty, and I want to punish him for it but not in the… I don’t want to use you like that. I want to show that you are the best I’ve ever had and no one can compare to that. So I don’t know. What do you think?”

Harry was delicate in the way he responded for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because shamefully, her answer had truthfully made his cock twitch. Hearing her say that he was the best, that no one else could compare, that she wanted her boyfriend to see that Harry was the one who made her cum… it was tempting. The possessiveness in him liked the idea of laying claim to her that way.

He had tried so hard to be morally correct in this whole thing but the further he fell, the less he cared about Danny. The more he resented him. But if he wanted to subject himself to watching him fuck his girlfriend, if he wanted to see how much Harry could provide that he never could, if Y/N felt that way about it, maybe he could let morals cool down and do something that was a bit selfish.

But the real question was being raised in his head and he had to know the answer before he gave a yes. He had to know. The silence was louder than anything he’d heard before and he knew that it was now or never. Maybe it wasn’t the perfect time to ask, but he had to.

“Are you going to get back together with him, Y/N?” His question caught her off guard, but there wasn’t much hesitance with her answer.

“No.” She inhaled shakily. “I think… I know he can’t give me what I want.” Instant relief, instant gratification. He had a chance. He could have her, if he played his card right. There was no room for guilt anymore.

“Who can?” Harry’s hand crept under her shirt, leaning into her and letting their noses brush. His heart was thundering and he could feel her nerves but she was his brave girl. “Hm? Who can give you what you want?”

“You can.” The words were quiet, but the room was silent. He could hear a pin drop if his heart wasn’t beating hard in his ears. It was hard to believe she was giving him the answer he wanted all on her own, eyes searching hers as she gave into him. He could feel the shift, feel how she was handing a little more of herself over.

“Yeah. I can.” He confirmed, running his nose along the side of her cheek. “I can give you exactly what you want. So… yes. I think we should do it.” Fingers splayed along her bare back, pulling her into his body as her face nestled itself against his throat and he ghosted his lips against her hair. “M’not going to let you down like he’s done. So I’ll text him back. I’ll schedule it for next weekend… and then you’ll do it.”

What laid beyond that wasn’t completely certain. She could back out and decide not to break up with him, but Harry truly didn’t think that would be the case. She seemed certain on her own and without his pushing, but maybe he’d given her a bit of a gentle nudge himself.

Maybe she’d need a taste of what Harry could be like as a boyfriend and not just a dom.

——

Y/N woke up to soft kisses on her cheeks. A large hand under her shirt, similar to last night, but slow caresses moving rhythmically up and down her ribcage. Legs tangled together, she felt Harry notice she was awake but didn’t say a word as he connected their lips in a proper kiss.

Something last night had shifted them. She had a feeling it was the confirmation she wouldn’t be staying with Danny, but even more so that he had been confirmed to be the one who was able to give her what she wanted. As wrong as it may be to go through with that, she didn’t care.

Waking up to the most incredible shows of affection, something the other man had never truly given her besides a cuddle every once in a while, she had a glimpse of what Harry was truly like with her. A layer peeled back as the soft sounds of slow kissing filled the bedroom. Arching into him, she lazily draped her arm over his shoulder and felt him smile into the kisses, his own shaky exhale making her think about the fact that she probably wasn’t the only one heavily affected by it.

“Hi.” Pulling back nearly hurt her, but she wanted to hear his voice. The mornings in his bed she had experienced so far had been some of the best she could have ever imagined. It would have been a hint to her earlier that her relationship with Danny would be- should be- finished, just by how hard her heart beat when he laid in the bed next to her. Harry’s treatment of her had always been exceptionally gentle, but it took on a new meaning just by the look in his eyes as he met her sleepy ones.

“Hello.” He whispered, knuckles caressing the side of her cheek, still slightly marked from the pillow. Such a tiny detail, but it only seemed to make him feel more fond. “I tried to let you sleep for a bit, but… got a bit bored, if I’m honest.” The boyish smile was so different to the sensual, flirty ones she had gotten used to. It sparked a new sort of fluttering in her belly as he leaned his cheek into the pillow, looking her over. Studying her. Maybe she should feel a little more self conscious by such a close proximity examination, but she didn’t. Not in the slightest.

“S’okay.” She replied, eyes fluttering closed as he switched to fingertips mapping over her face as he pleased. “I don’t want to sleep the whole day away. I know you said you wanted to go somewhere today.”

In all honesty she was giddy at the idea of it. Harry had mentioned a little farmers market where he wanted to get some goat cheese to make this ravioli from scratch for dinner, and French bread that he claimed he could make but felt a little lazy in the idea of doing both homemade pasta and bread. Y/N couldn’t really be added to do either, so he wouldn’t have heard complaints from her either way.

“Mhm. I wanted t’make breakfast with you, though. Gonna get lunch out, but I think we could make some kick ass French toast. I’ve got this blueberry syrup and we can toast some pecans with brown sugar… trust me.” He inhaled deeply, pulling her into his body with the arm under her waist. “It’ll be so worth it.” His lips hovered over hers, giving a soft kiss to the swollen mouth before he forced himself to pull back. It was easy to get carried away. “I’ve got t’let Buttons out, so you can take a minute to wake up but…” filtering his eyes down towards her body, he took a moment to see the side of his shirt hanging off her shoulder. “Keep my shirt on. Alright? Just the shirt. Nothing else.”

He rolled out of bed, making his way towards the door when Y/N called after him.

“Is it an order from Daddy?” She said coyly, on her side as she ran her hand over the empty side of the bed.

“No. Jus’ something I want to see. Just Harry.”

—-

Harry hadn’t really thought the whole arrangement through.

In theory it had been simple enough, but in practice? It had gotten messy fast. He wasn’t supposed to do a lot of the things he had done for her. Get her gifts, kiss her outside of scenes, text her as much as he did. The biggest one he was positive he shouldn’t have done, though, was fall in love with her.

It wasn’t something he was going to admit to her yet. Even if he wanted to gather her in his arms and whisper it into her throat as he watched her pad into the kitchen with her bum peeking out slightly when she bent to pat Buttons on the head, he would wait. He’d wait as long as he had to, because last night she had restored his faith.

She was going to break up with Danny, and that meant she’d have room for him. He knew this could be considered a full blown affair if someone argued it that way, but in reality he had pushed them at each other. Two people beyond compatible in the bedroom had been shown to have even more of a connection outside of it. They got on incredibly, laughed together, had their little jokes and it had only been a relatively short amount of time compared to the amount she had dated her soon to be ex.

“Hm? Who can give you what you want?”

“You can.”

Fuck. That had been running circles on the hamster wheel that was his brain since she said it. Damn right, he could. He’d do it or die trying.

“How can I help?” She asked with her freshly washed face. The smell of mint and vanilla, her toothpaste and the body spray she had left in the bathroom. He could place them easily.

“Can I trust you to crack two eggs?” He asked with a bump to her hip as he reached over her head to grab a bowl. “Y’kinda give me the vibe that you get shell into it but… I’m willing to give you a chance.”

“You are rude this morning.” Y/N scoffed, hip bumping him back as she went towards the refrigerator. It felt so fucking good to see her in his kitchen. Messy bedhead she’d attempted to tame, his marks on her thighs exposed when she moved the right way, his shirt hanging off her body. This wasn’t the sort of feeling he had towards most of his submissives.

No, this was very clearly girlfriend territory.

“No, sweetheart. M’just joking. You know that.” He plugged in the electric griddle. “I’ve got the black stone outside but if I’m honest, it’s humid out and I can’t be arsed to deal with the whole going in and out thing. So we’ll stick to the kitchen.”

The mention of him being unnaturally attracted to seeing her padding around his kitchen barefoot was nowhere to be found. That was an inside thought for now.

“Whatever you say, boss.” She snorted. “You know I’m exceptionally good at taking orders. Put me to work.”

The quip resulted in a quick slap to her ass, glossed over by his slightly narrowed eyes before he got to talking. Y/N knew how to make French toast, as did a lot of people, but it was stupidly cute to see how focused she got. Making sure no shells got into the egg, whisking it together, sprinkling with cinnamon before Harry took the battered bread and let it sizzle on the cooktop, they worked as a well oiled machine.

“Alright. The final trick is to put the pan into the oven for a few minutes with the brown sugar and blueberry syrup to caramelize it a bit.” He answered her internal question as to why he had been putting them on a baking sheet without her having to ask. It had been so nice to just do something domestic like this. So low key and calm, falling into it like it was something they did daily. He could only wish for that.

Y/N placed the dishes into the dishwasher as he put the baking sheet into the oven and set the timer, giving him a lovely little peek of her ass when he turned back around. She wasn’t trying to be sexy at all, but he found that it just came naturally to her. Perhaps he was just that down bad, that desperate for her, but he felt the itching of his palms to grab her when she stood back up and he decided he wasn’t going to stop it.

Cool marble make her squeal as Harry lifted her up onto the countertop, the quickness of how he got her up there not giving her a second to even really understand what was happening until it was done and her knees were forced open so he could stand between them. “What happened to hello, how are you?”

“Hello.” His hand slipped under the shirt, splaying across the bottom of her spine as he pulled her closer to him. “How are you?” He wasn’t holding back from his pressing thoughts as he finally let himself bury his nose into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. The soap from the bath the night before, the vanilla body mist, the lingering of his sheets and imprint of the scent of him. Comfort wrapped around him like a blanket- or better said, her arms- as he felt fingers run over his bare shoulder.

“I’m good.” The lightness of her voice settled something in his stomach. Y/N took most things in stride, but it meant the most that she was taking this part so well. This wasn’t something he’d particularly fully indulged in with her before, but he’d wanted to. That little layer of separation was being chipped away, piece by piece as the connection to her boyfriend fell apart. “How about you?”

Harry pondered for a moment if the truth was something he should fully delve into, or if he should mask it. The depth of what he felt was intense and that wasn’t something he would think she’d be ready to hear quite yet, but he was praying that she would return the sentiments. Maybe after the official breakup. “M’wonderful, baby.” The pet name casually dropped into conversation seemed to effect her, the soft shiver not gone unnoticed. Regretfully, he forced himself to pull his face from her throat after giving a chaste kiss to the side of it to get a look at her features.

It sort of hit him in his stomach when he caught her eyes again. Seeing that fondness reflected back to him, one he knew was radiating off of him in waves, it swelled in his throat as he tried to swallow it back down to his belly. How had such an arrangement ended up in something like this? Handed over one of the most enchanting creatures on a silver platter for him to pluck straight into his lap? It only solidified that Danny had never deserved her.

To have her affections officially, to be the partner of someone who had used to talk highly of him and put up with such half assed attention, he had to wonder how anyone could take it for granted. He’d been in a few relationships, a time or two, and he’d been in love before. He knew he was a different man than her boyfriend, but never in his life would he take a look at the sweet fucking simper she was giving him right now and even fathom the idea of letting anyone else ever touch her. He’d be selfish, rightfully so. Hell, he was selfish now.

Harry was going to fuck her in front of said boyfriend as a parting gift. Show him what happens when you hand over your gift to someone who could treat her better, see the true value in her rather than take her for granted and brush aside her likes as a phase. He was going to take pleasure in every single whimper she gave him, every clench of her cunt, every scratch of her nails, every single time she called his name, because it was going to be a glimpse into her future- without him. Y/N was going to be his, if she allowed it. He was thoroughly prepared to fight and prove himself as someone worthy enough to have access to not only her body, but her heart.

The vision of her under him last night, on her knees with her face the vision of content as she rested her cheek on his knee and her hair stroked back with his fingers taking note of every strand was a reminder of what he could offer her. Y/N had shown him another side that further aided in his thoughts that she was made for him. Their playtime at the club wasn’t something that felt like a one and done- neither had their fuck at the bar right under her boyfriend’s nose as he had chosen to get drunk instead of spend time with the pretty goddess that now sat in his kitchen, with her arms around him. “Are you sore at all?” He knew her body had taken a bit more than one would be used to this weekend. “Are you feelin’ okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I feel good.” She peeped, watching his eyes as fingers pushed hair off of her neck. The marks were steady there, blotches of passion on display. It would be hard to hide them, but he doubted she would want to. “I’m excited to spend the day with you.”

And, god, take him now. His chest heated and his heart melted into a google between his ribs, the smile lifting the corner of his lips inevitable as he was reminded of the day they’d be having. “Me too.” He was beyond excited. Giddy, even, but he had the ability to hide just how worked up it made him. “Gonna have a good day with you. Don’t want you t’go home after, though.” That would be the worst part. She had work the next day and as much as he wanted her to stay….

“Well…” She went shy, making him pause his thought process. “I don’t want to be presumptuous, but i um… I brought my work clothes and laptop. Just in case we got… I dunno what my thought process was. I don’t want to overstay my welcome, but if you really want me to stay-”

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you to go. I hate watching you leave.” He interrupted her. “House feels… Empty, i guess. When you leave I can feel it. I love having this place but I….” His words had left his brain without his permission, but he’d already been digging himself a hole since last night. “I didn’t realize how lonely it could feel until you left. I like how it feels to have you here. It feels right. “ It was a little much, but then again, she didn’t seem thrown off. If anything, her eyes brightened and she sat up a bit straighter.

“If you’re sure. Then yeah, I can stay.”

“Good. Cause knowing what I know now, I don’t think I’d let you leave.”

He just hoped she knew how far that statement really went.

—--------------

“Oh my god-” Her gasping voice broke through the bedroom as she writhed on the bed, her fingers tugging at the back of his head. The hum leaving his throat had her arching up into him, desperate to keep him close as his fingers fucked into her slick hole and his tongue lathed over her swollen clit. “M’gonna cum, m’gonna cum, can I cum?”

The desperation leaked in her voice. It had started out with him teasing her about the plug she’d washed in his bathroom sink from the nights prior and snowballed into him suggesting she wear it out. Suddenly she was on her second orgasm from his ruthless tongue and fingers, her little sundress flipped up over her tummy so it ‘wouldn’t get too dirty’.

“Gosh, I dunno.” Harry hummed, slick lips pulled into a faux frown. “Are you gonna stop fuckin’ teasing me today? Flashing that little cunt at breakfast, walkin’ around in your slutty bra… I already let you cum once.”

“Please, let me. Let me cum, I’ll be good. You can do whatever you want to me when we get home, I’ll suck you for hours, I’ll let you do anything, just let me cum.” Her eyes filled with frustrated tears again, surely messing up her mascara. It seemed to be one of his favorite pastimes, making her cry from pleasure.

“Oh, baby. You sweet little thing, I was already going to do whatever I wanted to you t’night. But I suppose we need to get a move on.” Clicking his tongue, as if it was a shame he couldn’t keep edging her all morning, he let out a sigh of defeat. “Suppose you can. Only because I don’t want t’hear you whining all morning about how mean I am.”

Really, it had been the fact she had called this place home. When we get home. Harry liked that quite a fucking bit.

Returning to his prior place, he let her pull him into her cunt and listened to her sobs of relief as she thanked him, gushing all over his tongue with a moan and trembling thighs locked around his ears. For the first time he let her do what she wanted in that regard, and he couldn't deny how much he loved it. Feeling her buck against his mouth and be unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer, her worked her through it with her cunt gushing around his fingers and swollen clit pulsing against his mouth.

He knew it was going to take him a moment to calm his cock down, but he did like to hold off for a bit. As easy as it would be to flip her over and use her warm, supple pussy to cum into, he wanted to play with her later. The wait would be worth it. Climbing up her body, he cooed softly at her as she looked at him with bleary eyes- only to laugh as her hands caught his face and tugged him down to kiss her. There was that whole other level of satisfaction he felt from having her be frantic for him, knowing she felt even a fraction of how he felt for her.

“You good, angel?” He asked softly, wiping his clean fingers under her eye. It hadn’t caused too much damage, but she’d need to go fix herself up.

“Mhm.” She giggled, nose brushing against hers. “I’m gonna need a moment to get feeling back in my legs. I don’t know how the hell you can do that.”

It was one of those moments that felt far more like a relationship than just a Dom and Sub dynamic. She hadn’t used any honorifics, not had he asked her to. He’d merely gotten to the point and Y/N had happily followed. “I’d apologize but m’not sorry in the slightest.” His smile brightened up his face before it fell slightly, lips falling back on hers. The comfortability around them had changed, merged into something else that he wasn’t sure what to call it- but he liked it. He liked it a lot. “I think after we get back, we can go for a soak in the hot tub. Sound like something you want to do?”

Contrary to popular belief there were differences between the bathtub and and the jacuzzi. He’d fight anyone on it. It was a hill he was willing to die on.

“Okay, that sounds like fun.” With her eyes falling shut, it gave him an opportunity to give her another admiring glance over. Her panties tucked to the side, sweat still beaded at her hairline, she looked so relaxed that he felt proud. He’d been the one to get her to this state. Hopefully she’d let this happen again, and again, and again.

“Perfect. I’ll help you clean yourself up and touch up your makeup and then we can go, okay?” Storoking his knuckles over her lip, he smiled when they pursed to kiss the skin. Such a small action that sent such a big reaction through him. “Think Buttons will want t’go with us?”

That had her eyes popping open, an excited gasp leaving her as she looked back up at him to see if he was serious. “Really? We can do that?”

The excitement was yet another thing that was an arrow right to the heart, having another strand of the thread keeping him from admitting how far gone he was with her fray and snap. Such a small thing had her eyes fucking sparkling up at him and he was probably going to fall over at how much he utterly adored that little look. “Of course we can.” He laughed under his breath. “The market’s outside and we can sit out on a patio for lunch. Get him a treat. It’ll be fun.”

Though when he saw Y/N waiting at the door with his leash in her hand and one of his denim jackets slung over her arms, bouncing on her heels as he approached, he had vastly underestimated how much he could see his future in that very image. Slipping his hand into her own as they walked towards his car and hearing her coo at his dog, talking about how ‘daddy had been so nice to offer them a day out’ before shooting him a wink, he felt the last little bit of that tether snap and the ground beneath his feet felt a lot like the open air.

Harry needed to keep this, recreate it and cherish it forever. If his future didn’t have Y/N hopping into the passenger seat of his car and sneaking Buttons a biscuit? He didn’t want it.

#jarofstyles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #the favor #favorrry #harry fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles oneshots #harry styles imagines

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dumbbitchgalore · 4 months

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Part 4: Old man!Price wants his birdie to fly away 🕊

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

John sighs softly as he walks out of the door with the final box filled with his belongings.

Parking your car in the driveway, you walk out of it and approach the front door as you spot John. You cross your arms and sigh softly.

"Done moving out, Captain?" You ask, void of any emotion.

John groans as he hears the formality in your voice, "Birdie-"

You put you hand up to cut him off, "Don't. Don't you dare call me that. It's fucking poison coming out of your mouth."

He frowns at your harsh scowl and releasing reasoning with you is no longer an option as you walk past him and open the door to your once shared home.

This is what he wished as the desired outcome of his actions. For you to kick his arse and finally be free of the bastard that he is. A broke, old man like him didn't need to clip a birdie's wings just for his sake.

But somewhere within his conscious, John was beginning to feel a sense of loneliness, guilt and longing. His actions where for his birdie's freedom. But was there truly no other motive towards his selfish actions?

John was beginning to slowly become an after thought to you as you were getting ready for a night out.

You stand in front of the mirror situated on the bedroom wall as you admire yourself. However, in the corner of your eye John's non-existant silhouette lingered behind you. Closing your eyes, you feel his arms wrap around you as you lean into his ghost. His scent begins to waft around you, engulfing you an a hazy trance.

John, John, John

Shaking your head left and right, you shoo his spirit away from your presence. You brush the wrinkles out of your outfit before walking out of the front door.

Unlocking the car, you sit in the driver's seat turning the ignition on. Headlight on, you drive out. Breathing in and out, playing ever single possible scenario as to how this night will unhold.

Regaining the lost confidence attributed to John's heinous actions, you sike yourself up through the whole car ride.

Coming to a halt in front of the pub, you spot him waiting for you near the front door. Smiling softly at the scene, you notice him shivering as the winter breeze bumps against him, prickling his skin. You find humour in the lack of a jacket, possibly to impress you with a visual of his body as he always tried to back during your engagement with Price which you actively ingored.

But now you decide to take in the sight, drinking in his physique along with his tattoo and his stupid mohawk that you used to depised, but now it's style began to grow on you.

Looking at yourself in the sun visor mirrow, you fix any imperfections you find in yourself before stepping out of the car and walking to him.

Giving him a soft smile, you hug him before stepping back and chuckling nervously.

"Sorry, haven't done this in a while" You say sheepishly, rubbing your upper him.

He smirks at your shyness, kissing your cheek. "Let me take the reins then, Bonnie?"

You nod at the scotsman's comment, leaning into his touch as he ushers you inside of the pub.

On the other side of the street, there he was. A witness to the scene which took place in front of him. John stands there idly, trying his best to let his birdie fly away and start the creation of a new nest.

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delicatebarness · 5 months

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cry baby | prologue

Summary: Meet The Avengers, the infamous friendship group. Known for causing trouble all around town, and being feared by all. Expect the youngest member of the group, she was different and she was protected.

Warning: Smoking. Alcohol. Crying.

Word Count: 1179

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A/N: The final results of the poll were 68.4% in favor of posting this now so here you go. I really hope I did this idea justice and you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think <3

Tags: buckys0whore |

The bar hummed with music, laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional roar of a motorcycle outside. In the corner booth, among the haze of cigarette smoke and the dim glow of neon lights, sat a group of friends, claimed as The Avengers.

Bucky Barnes leaned back in the booth, his eyes constantly scanning the room with a gaze as piercing as the edge of his knife. His presence commanded respect anywhere he went, without raising his voice. He was an enigma wrapped in leather.

A smirk played at the corner of his lips as he observed the scene at the bar. Your presence was a stark contrast to the rough ambiance of the bar. Dressed in a delicate flowing dress, out of place amidst the leather and tattoos, you were the embodiment of vulnerability in a world that praised itself on toughness. Your gaze darted nervously around the room as you waited for your drink.

Bucky’s grip tightened around the beer bottle he had been nursing as he watched the bartender lean close to you. His jaw clenched with a quiet intensity, some instinct urged him to intervene, to protect you from whatever the guy was trying to do. But, before he could make a move he noticed Steve, your older brother and his best friend, standing closer to you. It was obvious from Steve’s expression and assertive stance that he was telling the bartender to step back.

Turning back his attention to the booth, he caught Natasha’s knowing smirk and Sam’s amused glance. They also had been watching the scene at the bar and offered small nods of approval toward Steve as you both made your way to the booth with the drinks. You were a tight-knit group, and there was an unspoken understanding that you would always protect one another. Mostly, it was you that they were protecting.

Your emotions began to bubble to the surface, tears threatened to spill over. The reasons for them, you were unsure of. Was it the presence of the new bartender? Perhaps Steve’s protective demeanor had caused them. Or maybe it was simply the atmosphere of smoke and dust. Regardless, as you settled back into the booth, the sight of Bucky’s eye-rolling toward you only worsened the urge to cry.

“Spill the beans, crybaby,” Bucky’s voice cut through the chatter of your friends around you. “What’s the verdict today? Tears of joy or sadness?” his tone dripping with sarcasm as he leaned forward.

Your cheeks flushed, and you tilted your head up hoping gravity will stop the tears from spilling. “I, I don’t know,” you mumbled softly, your voice barely audible over the noise of the bar.

As the night wore on, the bar grew increasingly rowdy and you found yourself retreating into the safety of your thoughts. No matter how hard you tried to hide your teary eyes, you couldn’t escape Bucky’s watchful gaze.

As closing time drew near, there was a subtle shift that settled over the group, a silent acknowledgment that their night was coming to an end. With reluctant sighs, you began to gather your belongings. The rest of your friends picked up their packets of cigarettes and leather jackets, as you picked up your sketchbook and pencil. Preparing to leave the warmth of the bar for the cold embrace of the night, you begin to make your way to the exit.

Bucky remained rooted in his spot in the booth, his gaze fixed on some unseen point around the bar. “Hey, Buck, you coming?” Steve called out, his voice tinged with concern as he glanced back at his friend.

You could almost see the cogs working in his mind as he hesitated, clenching his jaw. “I think I’ll stay a bit longer,” he finally replied, his voice low.

Wanda arched an eyebrow, confusion took over her features as Natasha spoke for you all, “Everything okay, Barnes?” she asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

He offered you all a tight-lipped smile, a silent reassurance that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah I’m fine,” he beamed at you all with an uncharacteristic glee. His gaze flickered over to you for a brief moment before returning to your friends. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,”

With reluctant nods and murmured goodbyes, you and the rest of The Avengers made your way out of the bar, leaving Bucky alone. As the door swung shut behind you, Bucky let out a heavy sigh before making his way over to the bar.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky climbed the stairs to your apartment door, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallways. An hour must have passed since you would have gotten home. As he reached the familiar door, he hesitated for a moment, his already grazed knuckles hovering over the wood before finally summoning the courage to knock.

The door swung open, revealing your concerned expression as you took in the sight of him standing on her doorstep, a black eye already began to form.

“Bucky? What happened?” you exclaimed, your voice filled the air with concern as you ushered him inside.

He offered you a weary smile, his gaze met yours with a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion. “You should have seen the other guy,” he replied, his smile turning into a playful smirk.

You arched an eyebrow skeptically, as you gestured for him to take a seat at the kitchen table. “Let’s just get you patched up,” you sent him a reassuring smile as you moved around your kitchen to fetch the first aid kit.

As you began cleaning and dressing his wounds, he couldn’t help but marvel at the tenderness of your touch. Your hands moved with practiced precision while you stood in between his tights. Despite his attempts to downplay his injuries, he winced slightly as the antiseptic stung, his jaw clenching.

A wave of emotion washed over you, and tears began to well up in your eyes, a silent testament to the guilt you carried from causing him more pain and discomfort.

Bucky’s heart clenched at the sight of your tears, forgetting about his own pain momentarily as he reached out to gently cup your cheeks, wiping away the evidence of her distress. A gesture as gentle as it was instinctual. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, his hand never leaving your cheek.

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering away from his as you struggled to find the words you wanted to say, “I, I don’t like when you’re hurt,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

A pang of guilt twisted in his chest as he realized the hurt he was causing. Without hesitation, he pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist. “I know, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice filled with regret as he felt your tears dampen his skin. “I’m sorry,”

In the warmth of his embrace, you found comfort, and the weight of your worries subsided by the rhythm of his heartbeat. You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, calming your emotions with every passing second.

---

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

#cry baby series #cry baby #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you #biker au #greaser au #bucky barnes x #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #steve rogers x sister!reader

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wildestdreamsblog · 5 months

Text

Latibule Spinoff: Elysian

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: if this ain't the most unserious hiatus ever XD

Masterlist, Part IV of __

“If you know in one glimpse it’s legendary…what we thought was for all time was momentary…”

You tilted your head to the side as you watched the young man mumbled the lyrics to a song, his head resting on his forearm on the table. He was holding the glass of soju on his other. His voice had a certain melodic tone in it, and you were certain that he could be a singer had he wanted to. But now, he was a man that was too drunk to sit straight.

“Still alive killing time at the cemetery. Never quite buried…”

You blinked from your seat across him before turning to the doctor beside you who was busy grilling meat. Kim Seokjin appeared to not be bothered by how his brother was acting, only flashing you a smile when he saw you looking at him. He added another one on the pile of grilled meat he kept on placing on your plate. Meanwhile, Jungkook’s was almost gone and Seokjin still prioritized your plate over his.

You leaned closer, your voice barely a whisper amidst the din of the restaurant. "Is he going to be okay?" you asked, your gaze never leaving Jungkook's slouched form as he continued to sing. The noise inside the tented restaurant made it harder for him to hear you. It was like he wasn’t thinking too hard for the first time since you came barging in his life as he leaned down his head to hear you, his ear almost touching your lips from his proximity.

This seemed right, he thought, to be near you. It was like he was finally following his urges, letting his control slip for just a little for you.

And for the second time that night, your heart beat so loud it was a miracle that he couldn’t hear it, or that you didn’t go into cardiac arrest.

“Hmm?”

You cleared your throat before repeating your question. “He’s singing Taylor Swift’s new song. The album only came out this morning and it seems like he already memorized it…Is he okay?”

Seokjin looked up to watch his brokenhearted brother who was now unstealthily stealing meat from your plate, unaware of both your eyes on him. “Talking rings and talking cradles………I wish I could unrecall-“

Jungkook sniffed before eating the meat. It would have been hilarious to watch the tears falling from his eyes as he chewed, except that he looked like a child that was abandoned by the way his lips were pouted. The tattoos and the lip piercing did nothing to make him less endearing. You thought he was really just a charming person. But now he was just sad, as though he lost something he could never get back.

“-how we almost had it all.”

And then cue the endless tears.

Seokjin sighed, his eyes trained on the younger man he claimed to have raised on his own since he was thirteen. It was rare to see him cry. He always toughed it out, always had this innate need to prove himself to his older brothers despite the repeated assurance they gave him that they were tough so he wouldn’t need to. But he was stubborn. And in turn, he became a hardened man, a no-nonsense CEO and a violent leader of the underworld.

Well, until he married her. Suddenly, the sun seemed to have finally shone on his world. Seokjin could remember how happy and giddy Jungkook looked when he put the ring on her finger. He could remember how excited he was to come home to her everyday, even going as far as telling them how wonderful she was, or that cute thing she did for him, or how her cooking was the best he ever had.

Spoiler alert, though, she was the worst cook. She didn’t know that there was a distinct difference between a sugar and a salt, and no, just because they looked the same didn’t mean that they tasted the same.

See what love did to Jeon Jungkook, the pickiest person when it came to food?

Well, until she left.

“It’s not his birthday today,” Seokjin finally answered. “And eat. You’re far too thin.”

“Excuse me! I’m not!”

“Uhuh,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “Are you even eating three times a day?”

“Wh- well. N-no! Who has the time?” you sputtered, cheeks warming up from the attention you were getting from him.

He raised his brows at that before pointedly looking at your plate, making a mental note to ensure that your schedule from now on wouldn’t be so tight that you forgot to eat. Or better yet, he would personally visit the head of your department to berate him for not ensuring your well-being!

“And what do you mean that it’s not his birthday?”

“It’s his wedding anniversary today.”

Huh? Your eyes automatically went to his ring finger, only to find a tattoo that you didn’t notice before. It was a name. You thought that he must have been so in love to have permanently etched his wife’s name on his skin. However, another question popped in your mind.

“Then why is he here instead of with her?”

“She left her more than a year ago. He doesn’t know where she is right now.”

Your heart went out to the young man. He seemed to be so heartbroken evident from his tears and the sadness in his doe eyes. He was too young to be this sad, you thought. Seokjin’s eyes were on you as you looked at Jungkook. You were so soft, he thought. You wore your emotions on your sleeves, genuine concern etched on your face and he couldn’t help but marvel at your capacity for compassion despite only meeting him today.

“That’s so sad. No wonder he’s crying his heart out,” you mumbled, reaching out to pat the younger man’s broad back in display of silent support. “I don’t know how anyone can carry it.”

He nodded, “I don’t think I’ll ever have to know.”

You blinked owlishly at his statement. And when you turned to him, his eyes were dark. He was now looking at the glass of soju, twirling the liquid contents slowly.

“Why?” you asked what you shouldn’t have.

He smirked before drinking. His movements were languid before turning his dark and cold eyes to you. “Because, sunshine, I don’t think I have it in me to allow my wife to leave me.”

That should have been your first warning.

And to Kim Seokjin, that was his first warning to himself.

---

He didn’t avoid you. No.

But for the following week, he was distant. He smiled at you when he saw you, but other than that, he did not engage. He greeted you when you greeted him, but other than that, he claimed to have an urgent appointment every time.

See, one step forward was two steps backward when it came to him, you thought. And perhaps, it was for the better. Had this progressed beyond a harmless crush, you would have been hurt. You would only bring him down with you. So for the next days, you threw yourself at work, saying yes to whatever assistance your colleagues needed, even going as far as offering your help to their research.

What? It was an overtime which equated to overtime pay!

That was what you reasoned to yourself, and nope, it was not because you were avoiding excess time to think about that handsome doctor.

Perhaps, what deviated in your work was the amount of free meals the department was getting. It even came to the point was when you didn’t go out of the office for lunch, the department head himself went in and demanded you to eat. You were confused as you followed him out and wondered why he looked a bit terrified. Other than that, you week was calm.

This was good, you convinced yourself as you waited in line for your turn to order, less time with him meant that whatever crush you had for him would die a natural death. You certainly weren’t hurt that your last interaction meant nothing to him when he claimed to have wanted you there with him. You nodded to yourself as you thought that Seokjin looked like a walking heartbreak just waiting to happen.

“Come on, just admit you like her! Why else would you reallocate the budget to cater the food for their department?!”

Seokjin rolled his eyes at his Doctor Seong-min and his obnoxious voice. The two doctors decided to step out for the afternoon to grab a decent coffee. He shifted impatiently in line, silently willing the people ahead him to order faster so he could physically separate himself from his colleague and escape the conversation. He had yet to forgive him for almost getting the coffee his sunshine got for him.

Wait, what?!

His?

See, this was why he needed coffee!

“I heard our branch in the far province desperately needs a resident surgeon. Maybe you want to transfer there?” he asked quietly, the tone of threat not even hidden as he smiled at the man. The mention of transferring to a far-flung province was a thinly veiled threat, one that Seong-min knew Seokjin was all too capable of carrying out if pushed far enough.

“Damn, dude. Chill. If you don’t like her, just say so. I’m just 307% sure that you do-“

“We can’t have doctors that are bad at math! What do you mean 307%?!-“

“Oh, is it 400% now?” he blinked innocently at the man who was berating him, his voice increasing and his ears reddening from his emotions. It was fun to see him like this, Seong-min noted. He was always calm and collected even in the face of emergencies. Seokjin seemed to always know what to do in every situation, and now, one mention of your name and he became like this.

With a forced smile, Seokjin turned to face Seong-min, his voice low and tinged with frustration. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, though the denial rang hollow even to his own ears.

Seong-min merely chuckled, unfazed by Seokjin's attempt at deflection. "Come on, Jin. It's written all over your face," he teased, leaning in closer as if sharing a secret. "You can't fool me.”

He glared at him and Seong-min felt a shiver down his spine as though he was facing a dangerous person and not the peace-loving and hardworking doctor he knew since they were in university. “Fine! I just asked because my friend saw Doctor Y/N and asked me to set her up with him! I was just being a good friend to you-“

What?

See, the mention of another man was what finally pushed him to the very edge and he could feel the fragile sanity of his breaking. However, what he didn’t expect from his genius brain was stupidity.

“Seong-min, are you even using your brain? Why would I, the perfect and genius Doctor Kim Seokjin, ever like someone as bland as her? I have taste. And she could never reach my taste in women. She’s not the same stature as me. She’s so far below me that it’s embarrassing to even insinuate that I feel something for her. Besides, I only entertain her because she’s funny-“

Seong-min’s eyes went in front as the line moved, and it was because of you.

With the steaming cup of hot coffee in your hand, you turned to them. You didn’t say anything. You just watched as Seokjin continued his tirade, completely unaware of your presence, adding lashes to your heart and ego.

God, you were so embarrassed. How could you have thought that he was anything but a rich man who looked down at people beneath him? How could he hurt you where it hurts?

“Honestly, the least she could do is to move faraway from me. She’s nothing-“

It was only when Seong-min pushed his shoulder that he finally noticed you and your tear-filled eyes. He blinked repeatedly as though he was just starting to understand of your presence here, that you were not just a figment of his worst nightmare came to life.

He called for you.

He knew he did.

But instead, you stalked away from him as you tried to salvage whatever was left of your dignity.

“Seriously, Seokjin, you’re an idiot,” Seong-min said, shaking his head in disdain. Seokjin had no choice but to agree.

He was the biggest idiot.

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #mafia kim seokjin #kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin x reader #yandere kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin x y/n #yandere kim seokjin

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