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personasintro · 11 months

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Mutual Help | #57

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.2k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

When you truly think about it, you've probably let Jungkook in in more ways than one. Being in his presence is tempting. He is a temptation that messes up with your head. It is one of the reasons why you think the so-called break has been a smart decision. But he's not all that. He is still the same Jungkook whose presence is comforting. It's times like these when you're reminded of how much you love your friends.

Catching up with him and talking about how the day has been for each of you, isn't something new. There's not that much that has changed. You only stopped fucking each others brains out. Though, you hate how much you already miss it. And you shouldn't feel like this. But you also don't want to overthink anything, or keep your mind busy with something that's probably better not to think about.

Your dreams have been wild, the only time where you actually go back to how things were. Not all of them though. Maybe two or three since the camping trip and your decision.

Despite the inner struggles, Jungkook is your comfort person. Oddly enough, even though he's in the center of your thoughts, he brings you the biggest peace and comfort.

Tonight wasn't planned.

Luckily, you're always prepared when it comes to unplanned visits. All three of them love to surprise you (not that you mind), so your cupboard is never without at least one bottle of wine. Not being a much of a drinker yourself on casual evenings, you still suggest having a glass or two.

Jungkook agrees. After reminding you of him having to drive back home, you suggest him staying over. He agrees again. Maybe him staying overnight might not be the best for your hormones, you are forced to believe in yourself. Isn't this the whole purpose of this? To go back to just being friends, the ones you've been two years ago?

When you think about those times, you think of happiness. Surrounded by the greatest friends you could've ever asked for.

“Mind opening it?”

Jungkook looks up, finding you standing in your kitchen with a bottle of wine in your hand, a wine opener in the other. Standing up, he goes to help you without any words but there's a slight amused smirk on his lips when you hand him everything.

You share a look, not forgetting to playfully roll your eyes at him.

“So many bottles of wine and still can't open any of them.” he teases you, hinting at all the wine one of them had to open.

“Listen,” you muse, “You guys always whine about wanting to drink wine.”

“That's not true,” he laughs, knowing that he's bluffing. “We would drink anything.” he adds, which holds some truth to it for sure.

Feigning irritation, you motion for him to hurry. You watch him attentively, leaning yourself against a kitchen counter while he puts those muscles to work. He cuts the foil below the lower lip of the bottle, showing you how easy it is with a teasing tilt to his brow. Trying to hold back your laugh, you purse your lips instead before he inserts the screw in the center of the cork. He rotates it a few times, you're not sure because his eyes are on you.

“You're so cocky.” you comment, his brows shooting up as he lets out an audible laugh.

“What? I am not,” he argues, laughing. “You're just too amusing to look at.”

He levers cork, at least he tries to because it seems to be stuck. It's going harder than usual, which you can tell from all the times you had the opportunity to see a similar scene. His brows furrow and lips press into a thin line.

You cackle, “Maybe you got too cocky, buddy.”

“Shut up.” he mutters, his muscles bulging as a pop sound resounds, signaling the cork is levered successfully.

Maybe not so much, because in a seconds the wine spills around Jungkook, staining his shirt as well. You gasp, a hand over your mouth as you two share a look. Bursting out laughing, you shake your head.

“What did I say, too cocky.”

“Would you do it better?” he challenges, causing your grin to drop as your eyes narrow.

He puts the bottle down, the wine opener already in your sink as you grab a few kitchen paper towels and dry off all the spilled wine. Luckily, it's just a few droplets and no disaster is made. However, Jungkook's shirt has suffered the most. His entire white shirt is filled with dark red spots, turning purple from the wine's color.

He sighs in a slight annoyance, easily grabbing the back of his shirt as he effortlessly pulls it over his head. Almost choking on your spit, you try to not react too much as you quickly throw away the wet paper into the bin. But you straighten yourself too quickly, almost bumping into Jungkook's chest as you stare wide-eyed at him. He looks down on you, confused by your almost panic-struck face.

“What? Already too nervous at the sight of my chest?” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You purse your lips, trying to play it cool as you chuckle. “You got naked all of a sudden. You just caught me off guard.”

“Is this me naked?” he laughs, “Come on.”

“You know what I meant.” you say through clenched teeth, poking him in his stomach, ignoring how hard it feels. “Besides,” you start, gulping. “Break, remember?”

“I just took my shirt off,” he laughs, throwing his head back as you're met with his soft dimples and white toothy grin. “You never minded it before.”

“I never fucked you before, did I?” You lean yourself against the counter once again, hand gripping the edge of it tightly.

Jungkook notices it, his amusement not so hidden behind the little twitch of his lips. Eyes back on you, they dance across your soft and slightly panicked features. “Am I that irresistible?”

“Cocky again?” you shoot right back, not giving him that pleasure of confirming his thoughts and feeding his ego. But he knows. One look at you and he seems to know it all.

You make a mistake by allowing your eyes to drop, first at his lips and they disobediently trace down his chest, muscles and then the deep V-line. Oh fuck, you want this man . You mentally scream at yourself and throw hands, definitely disappointed in yourself. He's barely doing anything and you're ready to drop down on your knees.

“What's the point of taking a break, if we can't control ourselves?” you ask out loud, not quite sure if those words are only aimed at Jungkook, or you're letting your consciousness speak out loud.

He watches you for a moment, getting closer and you stumble back, awkwardly getting back to your previous spot as he tries to hold back a laugh. It's not your fault your body is reacting! And your mind panicked.

“Don't know about you, but I can control myself.” he says.

“You can?” you ponder.

“Mhm,” he nods, “Otherwise I would kiss you by now.”

“Kook!” you exclaim, already panting at those words as he gives you a smile. You don't look long enough to detect what kind.

“I would.” He's not ashamed to admit it.

You watch him wet his lips. They look inviting. Automatically, your mind replays many times you've got to taste them, actually more than that. Your entire body feels hot, too hot in this small kitchen and you don't know whether to scream or cry.

“Break, remember?” he reminds you, a smirk dancing all over those damn lips and stunning features. He brushes past you, the stained shirt gripped in his hold as he makes his way to your bathroom.

You don't move. You can't.

All you muster to do is gulp all the saliva that have collected in your mouth, touching your hot cheeks with the back of your hand. Letting out a loud exhale, you ignore your strong heartbeat that feels like it's in your neck.

Quickly grabbing the two glasses for you and him, you ignore the sharp ringing sound. Suddenly, you're desperate for the wine – very happy about your friends insisting to have one at your place at all times.

Perhaps, wine is not what you're desperate for at all.

This is exactly what you were talking about.

Among all the things that are going against the morality of any friendship, thinking of Jungkook a certain way feels forbidden. And it should be. Maybe it is a little dramatic because it's not like you spend every minute of your day, thirsting over your best friend. But you've caught yourself thinking of him a few times a day.

Just a few days after you came back from the trip, Maya visited your place for the first time. In fact, she sat on the exact spot where Jungkook is sitting right now. At first, you never felt like bothering her with your stupid shit, especially when she's in the middle of planning her wedding while working every day like a normal human being.

But you couldn't take it.

You wanted to take things off your mind, undoubtedly connected to only one person who's closest to you. Now in more ways than two years ago.

However, you did want to get things off your chest as well and eventually, you've found your way back to him.

“I think I made a bad decision.” you told her when the topic Jungkook started.

Now, Maya might be the person who absolutely understands the craving and temptation he brings inside you, but she has also become your best friend whom you can share your inner battles with.

“I shouldn't feel this way.”

“First of all, I think it might be a good decision to stop thinking of what should and shouldn't feel right. You're overthinking it.” she told you, ignoring your slightly offended look you sent her way.

“He's my best friend.” you gritted through your teeth, suddenly growing overwhelmed with those thoughts again.

Deep down, you know you made the right decision. You know the reason why you made it in the first place. Yet, here you are, regretting it.

“Y/N, honey,” Maya's silky and comforting voice caught your attention. She angled her body toward you, leaning her head against her palm. “That feeling of… wanting him is not gonna go away with a snap of fingers.”

You frowned. You frowned for a while while she let you ponder in silence.

“I did it so we could focus on being friends. No intimacy.” you almost whispered, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“And it's okay still wanting him to bend you over and fuck you.”

“Maya!”

You both laughed, the girly laugher filling your once quiet and sad place.

“It's okay to have regrets. Just go with the flow.”

That's the last thing she advised you before you asked her about the wedding. She advised you something you and Jungkook did – and look where it brought you.

Luckily for your sake, Jungkook has had a shirt in one of your drawers, the result of him staying at your old place a few times. Actually, you're sure there are a few Taehyung's things in one of your drawers as well.

Gulping down your nerves with your wine, you naturally grow warm and relaxed. You barely pay any attention to the movie, focusing on how Jungkook's shoulder and side of his body feels… nice. You tend to get sleepy and cuddly (among other things) when tipsy. You're on your third glass of wine, nowhere near drunk but the exhaustion of today has caught up to you.

Jungkook's legs are outstretched, resting on your coffee table which you used to scold him for. Even though you often caught yourself doing the very same thing. Is it fair to scold someone for things you do as well?

“Kook?”

“Hm?” The soft, yet husky hum resounds from the man beside you, his hands resting on his stomach.

“What do you think about… the break ?” You cringe at giving it a proper name.

Though, Jungkook understands what you mean. He's quiet for a moment and when you lift your head up, you see his confused expression before his eyes settle down on you.

“Because you never told me what you think.”

Staring at him, you notice his hair is longer than the last time you've seen him. It's not been that long ago, yet you notice the small change. You wonder if he's going to grow it out like last time.

“Why you asking? Already regretting it, hm?” he teases, nudging you a little as your cheeks heat up.

“What? No!” It sounds like a proper lie and your throat tightens.

Whether Jungkook knows it or not, he decides not to tease you any further as his eyes focus on the screen of your television once again.

“I don't know what I think of it,” he responds after a while. “You told me the reason behind it and I respect it.”

“But do you agree with it?”

“Where is this coming from?” he frowns, though it's soft and confusing, just like your little and sudden integration is.

“Can you just answer?” you ask in annoyance.

“Yeah, I agree with it.” He says, “Maybe we got carried away too much.”

He leans forward, causing your head no longer leaning against him as he grabs his glass of wine and takes a few sips of it before getting back to his previous position. This time, you're watching him attentively. Your head leaned against the couch while the movie goes completely ignored. You watch the dark liquid in his glass, swirling it around.

Did you get carried away too much?

The only thing that changed was the fact you were having sex. Okay . Plus the never-ending thirst and temptation. Jungkook has shown you a different side of sex, something you've never experienced before. Perhaps, that's the reason why it felt so hard to let go.

And you panicked. With the events that happened lately, you felt like you wanted to go back to when none of this happened. But were your arguments happening because you were having sex?

“Do you miss it?”

Jungkook's brows lift up as you earn another glance from him. “You asking me if I miss fucking you?”

Your face gets hot all over again. “When you put it like this…”

He chuckles, leaning his head back as he stares at the ceiling. “It's been like a week.” he informs you.

As if you don't know. And what a week it has been!

You're just curious, blaming it on the wine because your thoughts are set free.

“I hope you know that when I look at you, sex isn't what I see.”

You look at him, ears perked up in attention as your heart flutters. “I know.” you whisper.

“I'm not Taehyung. I can go without sex.” he says, a loud snort rippling through your throat as you cover your mouth. He gives you an amused grin.

A silence follows and your thoughts work. Actually, they never stopped and now the alcohol inside you just urges them on.

“I had a sex dream of you.”

Completely oblivious of Jungkook taking another sip, he chokes on the dark liquid as he straightens himself from his position, gulping before coughing. “Jesus, Y/N.”

You give him an amused grin. “It was hazy. It didn't feel like a proper dream, you know what I mean? I feel like I had five dreams that night.”

It's true. You had a dream with him. It was very brief, much to your disappointment it ended too soon.

“This makes me sound like I'm thinking with my dick only.”

“You have no dick, Y/N.” Jungkook reminds you, snickering.

“You know what I mean.” you mutter in response.

Jungkook settles down his wine. He's a little surprised to see you sitting up, watching him attentively as he leans back. “What?”

“Nothing, you look good.”

For the second time tonight, Jungkook almost chokes on his spit. Shaking himself out of the sudden shock, he clears his throat. “Are you flirting with me?”

“No,” you say like it's the clearest thing in the world. “Just saying.”

He frowns, eyeing you suspiciously. As if he can't quite figure out what's going on inside your head. “Are you drunk?”

Jungkook knows you and your limits. You're a little tipsy, so is he but you definitely seem to show it more than he is.

“No.”

You sigh, sitting onto your heels before briefly tracing the veins that adore Jungkook's hands and arms. Is it June night or has it suddenly gotten too warm?

Jungkook catches you eyeing him, trying to hide his subtle smirk. He knows. “Break, remember?”

“Mhm,” you hum, completely ignoring the little reminder. “What a stupid idea.”

“Okay, I think you're drunk.”

“No, I am not.” you argue, frowning at him as he watches you in complete amusement. “I've thought about it a lot.”

“Is the wine making you horny?” Jungkook questions.

No, you do.

Though, you keep your mouth shut. You ignore him. “I know why I made that decision…” you trail off.

Jungkook raises his brow, waiting for you to continue. But? It's written all over his face.

“I miss you.”

He stares, blinking a few times. “You mean you miss my–”

“No, no. Maybe. I mean, no. You're not just that to me–” you quickly hurry to explain.

The problem is, you're not sure how to explain whatever it is you want to say. Whatever you think of pours out of your mouth. Usually you have enough time to think of what you're about to say, but right now you're unhinged. Maybe it's the result of your own frustration.

He is patient.

He's confused as fuck, well probably – at least you think so because his expression is neutral and he simply watches you, not ushering to explain or elaborate more.

He watches your eyes dance across the space around him, until your eyes settle on him. Then wander over his body until you shamelessly eye his wet lips, tainted by wine a little. He knows that look. He has seen it on many occasions.

“I'm not drunk, I promise.” you suddenly tell him. “I know I make no sense right now but…”

“Tell me what you want,” he tells you simply. “What's going on inside that pretty head?”

And you almost fold immediately, cursing that mouth of his.

“Trust me, it's not that pretty right now.” you mutter.

He laughs, “I can imagine.”

Ignoring what's that supposed to mean , you shift on your spot. “I know I wanted a break, but what if we did this one last time?”

You hate how nervous you suddenly feel. Is it embarrassing to admit such a thing? The last time you had a sex it wasn't under great conditions. It was mind-blowing and definitely did the work, but still.

Scooting closer to him, he attentively watches you as you lick your lips. “I mean… There's something I would like to try. And I trust you the most.”

Jungkook pulls his feet off the coffee table, setting them down on the floor as you make your way toward him. He lets you. He even helps you to sit down in his lap. Your hands are sprawled across his chest, slowly caressing the thin material as you feel his muscles under it.

“You're finally gonna let me fuck this ass?” he asks, eyes hooded lazily as he grabs your ass and squeezes the soft flesh.

Excitement floods your lower region, what could be considered as butterflies swirl inside your stomach.

“Fuck no,” you breathe out, “You're not going anywhere near my ass.”

Jungkook pouts, cheeks tinted pink from the wine he has drank. “Shame.”

You giggle, “Just one more time.” you tell softly, inching closer as your lips hover over his.

He breathes out, nose nudging yours. One thing is sure, alcohol sometimes makes both of you horny. You're not the type to go and look for a potential hook-up out there. And neither is Jungkook. At least you think so.

“You agree?”

“You're making this very hard for me, you know that, right?” Jungkook mutters, lips almost touching yours as his hold on your asscheeks tightens.

“Why's that?” you hum, teasingly playing with his hair until your fingers caress the nape of his neck.

“You just do,” he says before adding, “First you want a break and now you're on my lap, giving me those eyes.”

“What eyes?” you play clueless, causing him to chuckle.

“Those fuck me eyes.”

“You said you wanted to kiss me in the kitchen.”

“I did.” he hums, agreeing.

“You want this too, right?”

He looks up, lazily, eyes clouded with need and lust.

Again. He is your comfort place. He is comfortable and being in a position like this – you've got no regrets and you want him. Even if it's for the last time for God knows how long. There's no telling if you're ever going back to hooking-up. Usually, that is the plan when there's a word break involved.

Fuck focusing on your friendship for now. What did Maya say? Go with the flow?

“Yeah, but I don't want you to regret anything.”

“I'm never gonna regret this.”

You're not sure who moves first. Whether it's you or Jungkook, it doesn't matter. Your lips finally meet in a hard kiss, molding together as he deepens it. He kisses you, hard and needy, and you almost cry at that feeling. Fuck, you really did miss this. Before you can think of how wrong this might be, your want for him, you completely ignore it. Any possible morals are out of the window as you gasp into Jungkook's mouth.

He tastes like wine. You both do.

Eventually, you're forced to pull away to catch a breath. Jungkook's crotch underneath you hardens, informing you that he's aroused just as much as you are.

“What you had in mind?” he asks, voice raspy.

Pulling away with a smile, you turn off the television as you stretch your hand toward him. He watches you, slowly taking it as his big hand envelopes yours. He gets to his feet, his lean and hard body touching your side as you grow impatient. You lead him toward your bedroom, closing the door with a loud thud but not before turning off the lights in your living room. The bills are important, right?

Jungkook stands at the edge of your bed before you swiftly push him, causing him to sit down with a tiny smirk. Ignoring the smug face, you stand between his legs.

“Should I be worried?” he asks, hands on your hips as he caresses them. Trying not to swoon too much over that simple action, you pry his hands off you.

“Lay down.”

His brows raise momentarily.

“I see.” he mutters knowingly.

“Now.” you urge him, glaring at his smirk widening. “Wait.”

He cocks his brow at you.

“Take off the damn shirt.”

He chuckles, reaching behind him and tugging the shirt over his head. Fuck . Does he have to look attractive even while taking his shirt? God. Fucking hell. You did miss him.

Tossing the shirt on the floor, he sits there watching you up and down as you just stand there and admire his figure. One he worked hard for, yet it paid off entirely.

Fucking wine.

Before you can demand another thing, he gives you one last look of amusement before he scurries further down your mattress. You watch him lay down, making himself comfortable on your pillows as he leans his upper body against the bed frame. What a sight he is.

He watches you, silently and attentively, the entire time you get to your closet. You slide the door open, rummaging the bottom of it. His eyes are on you. You feel them on your back, watching your every move. While the fire that sits in the pit of your stomach, full of excitement, you pull out the item you've been looking for.

Just as you slide the closet door closed and turn around to face him, you see his smirk drop as he stares genuinely taken back. Now it's your turn to smirk as you swirl the fluffy pink handcuffs Taehyung kindly gifted you around your point finger.

“Fuck no.”

The response is immediate.

You get on the bed, taking the handcuffs with you of course. Jungkook watches you with a frown settled on both his face and lips. You get onto his lap, sitting right on top of his hardening cock.

“Why not?”

“I'm not getting handcuffed.” he states, eyeing you carefully as you place them beside you and start caressing his naked chest.

It's clear to say you want to be in control. It's debatable though. Whenever Jungkook has shown his dominant side when it came to sex, you were just as much in control. And you love and enjoy every second of him being in charge. This time, you want to be on top and play with him. Or maybe that sounds wrong. You want to give him pleasure, focus on him. To try something new.

You get closer to Jungkook, kissing his sharp jaw as he clenches it, watching you carefully but not moving just yet. You're sly. He's reminded of you being a little minx. You continue your path down his neck, kissing his skin as his chest moves, breathing slow and steady. His chest is neck, you pepper the skin with soft kisses just as you stop below the hem of his jeans.

He bites onto his lower lip harshly, meeting your gaze as you look up through your lashes.

“Can I take them off?” you ask, talking about his jeans.

“You don't have to ask.”

You grin, reaching for the belt as you undo it. His button and zipper are next before Jungkook helps you to take off his jeans.

“Just wanna make you feel good,” you tell him, eyeing his hardening and evident erection. “Can I make you feel good?”

“Fuck,” he sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “You wanna be in control, huh?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “What? You think I can't do it?”

His lips twitch. “No, no.” he assures you, though you're not sure if he's telling the truth.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you cup his bulge as you get on your knees, leaning down to his crotch. You palm him, his jaw clenched while you're trying not to moan at the feeling of his hard cock. Just the thought of pulling him out and having him inside you makes you wet.

Giving him one last look, you momentarily stop before you lean down completely and press a kiss to where his tip is, on top of his briefs.

“Fucking hell,” he gasps. “You're already teasing me.”

“What? No. I'm just taking my time.” you assure him cutely, smirking up at him which tells him otherwise.

Before he can react, you lift yourself up and carefully straddle him. You reach for the handcuffs, ignoring the way his cock is almost digging into your own crotch.

“Y/N.” he warns you.

You pout at him. “But why?” you almost whine. “You scared of handcuffs or what?”

“Keep talking and you're gonna be the one handcuffed.”

“I promise I won't do anything bad.”

He watches you, frowning and not totally sold on your idea. It definitely has something to do with his male ego. Jungkook is naturally dominant and while he had you on top multiple times, you never handcuffed him or showed this type of dominance. You reach for your oversized shirt, tugging it over your head as you expose your breasts to him. He gulps, watching the way they bounce from the single movement. Your nipples are already perked up, sensitive like always and perhaps, it's from the arousal as well.

He goes to touch them, mindlessly and automatically. His mouth opens in shock when you slap his hand away, even though you want nothing more than for him to touch you.

“What–”

“I wanna try this, Kook.” You're playing with him already. You pout and give him the puppy eyes, finger trailing down his abs. “You always asked what I want to try and this is one of them.”

He sighs, hand rubbing his forehead. “Fuck, okay.”

“Really?”

Jungkook almost smiles at how excited you sound. What the hell are you planning?

In reality, you're just going with the flow.

You reach for the handcuffs, knowing they're going to work well with your bed frame. You can easily handcuff both of Jungkook's hands. But just as you're about to reach for his hands, he automatically pulls away which causes you to give him a glare. He rolls his eyes, offering you his wrists. You sit on your knees, telling him to lay down completely. He does, with the same frown that makes you giggle under your breath. You take his wrists and bring them up to your bed frame.

Jungkook takes that time to watch you work on the handcuffs from below, feeling them wrapping around his wrists. Wanting to curse, he drifts his attention elsewhere and watches your breasts that are right above him.

You pull back with a successful and triumphal grin, watching him tugs onto them. While he mentally curses Taehyung for giving you such a stupid gift ever, you admire your work. You lean forward again, making sure they hold and Jungkook takes that time enveloping your nipple into his mouth. You gasp and flinch at the sudden feeling, pulling back to find smirking Jungkook.

“Couldn't resist,” he says cheekily.

Despite his current and clearly submissive position, he looks anything like it. He's here, your cheeks hot and heart beating fast. You don't think you'll ever grow tired of him showing his crave for you. You've said it multiple times in your head, but you've never felt wanted as much as you feel with Jungkook.

“Well, then start resisting.” you say smartly, ignoring the smug face. “Stop looking so cocky, you bastard.”

But he doesn't stop. He's smirking, looking at you because despite everything, he's in control. Frowning at that, even though you secretly love it, you stand up and get out of your pajama shorts. Revealing that you aren't wearing any underwear, Jungkook watches you hungrily, his head lifted thanks to the pillows under it. He's got a good view of you at the end of your bed.

You smirk. Men. One look at a naked body and they fold.

“Come here and sit that pussy on my mouth.”

Or not.

You give him a look, seeing him lazily lay there with his arms above his head.

“You don't get to make demands.” you inform him, watching that smug face wipe away slowly.

While you're completely naked, you sit on his calves and lean down to play with the hem of his briefs.

“This is torture,” he informs you back. “This is exactly why I didn't wanna be in these fucking handcuffs.”

“Already complaining?” you throw back.

He presses his lips into a tight line, keeping quiet.

Torturing a little more, you hover him once more with lips dangerously close to his. “That's what I thought.”

He chases your lips but you pull away, giggling when you're met with the usual frown.

Getting back to your position, you pull down his underwear. His cock springs free, shamelessly slapping against his abdomen before it stands upright. Minus the little facade that you have going on of planning to tease him, you're just as desperate to move further if not more.

So you wrap your hand around the base of him, wrapping your lips around the tip as you taste his pre-cum. Jungkook sighs in delight, allowing himself to close his eyes in a sudden relief. You lick the underside of him, knowing what you have to do since you've done it multiple times before. This is nothing new, yet it still feels amazing each time.

The handcuffs make a sound against the wooden frame, just as you let your mouth wrap around him some more, taking him deeper. The clank of them makes you look up, biting back a laugh when you see Jungkook's frustrated face.

“What were you gonna do?”

He growls, warning you not to tease him some more. Well, it surely isn't as much fun for him as it is for you, but that doesn't mean he can't enjoy it. It makes sense. This is the first time where Jungkook can't touch you because he's physically unable to. You understand the frustration, you do. With a silent promise, you make it worth it.

Putting his cock inside your mouth, you hollow your cheeks and deliver him pleasure. Your hand and mouth works on him, and not even hair getting into your face stops you. You know if it weren't for Jungkook's hands not being available at the moment, he would wrap his hand around it, making sure it doesn't get in the way and he can see you.

“Mhm, yeah.” He mutters from above you, enjoying your mouth wrapped around him.

It's not enough, you know it isn't but you're not planning to make him cum. You've barely started and in order for him to enjoy this, there's more you want to do. You don't want to make it lame since this is your first time doing this. You're not going to lie. You like having him this… helpless. You enjoy it, it's a nice change from the usual cockiness.

You eventually pull away, making sure to suck him until the last minute. A trail of saliva connects the tip of his cock and your lips, causing you to wipe it with your thumb. He watches you the entire time with dark eyes, not questioning why you stopped.

This time, he lets you be in control because you don't look like you're about to deny his orgasm and make him truly suffer. On the opposite, he stares at you attentively as you simply turn around and throw your leg over his chest, facing him with his back.

“Fuck.” he curses silently from behind you, watching you lean forward to his cock once again.

However this time, your ass and cunt are right in his face. He sees how wet you are, just that alone makes him smirk because he knows you won't be able to withhold your own pleasure for much longer. After all, it does make his ego bigger knowing you're affected. You're clueless to his inner thoughts, even though you do realize how wet you are, it doesn't even cross your mind, not even when the air hits your core.

It's not until you have Jungkook's cock back in your mouth when you suddenly feel his mouth on you. You don't expect the swipe of his tongue, gathering your juices which makes you flinch in surprise. Throwing him a glance across your shoulder, you're met with the same cockiness you've seen a handful of times.

“Lemme eat this pussy out.” he almost begs.

“How am I supposed to focus then?” you question, the remains of wine causing you to speak your thoughts right away.

His lips twitch. You give him no reaction though, letting it up to him as you turn around and arch your back. Jungkook is a menace. He gets what he wants either way, shameless as ever as his mouth envelopes your clit as he sucks.

You gasp, leaning your forehead against his thigh while your hand stops working on his hard cock. For fuck sake. Frustration is what you feel because for a split second, you realize Jungkook is in control. He eats you out, your body and determination practically begging to be touched. Reminding yourself that this is not supposed to be totally about you, you force your hand to get to work. You're realizing you're not doing a half of a good job at delivering pleasure at the moment.

“Focus,” Jungkook says against your leaking cunt. You can imagine his mouth already being soaked in your juices, dripping it down his chest. Even the single imaginary sight of that makes you want to let out the biggest groan. “I thought you're great at multitasking.”

Apparently not when it comes to this , you want to bite back but you can't. You simply cannot. It's like the moment Jungkook touches you, you're already gone.

Somehow, after a moment of realization and determination yet again, you take him into your mouth.

“That's it,” he groans against you, sending vibrations right to your core. The wet sounds coming from behind you create a sinful proof of your doings, ones you don't mind at all.

You're close.

You can't focus.

Not with Jungkook's mouth that skilfully slowly but surely brings you to your end. And then the cocky bastard opens his dirty mouth again, not minding what it's been doing, not even a bit.

“Wanna spread this cunt. Come on, rub yourself against me.”

Ignoring Jungkook's pleas of wanting to be suffocated by your pussy, you shake yourself out of a familiar daze full of desire and lust. This bastard!

You pull away, not only to give him one last taste of your mouth, but also taking the approaching orgasm from yourself. Jungkook's quiet until a noise of both surprise and disappointment fills your bedroom. You get off his lap, facing him while you give him a perfect view of your messy appearance. One he's undoubtedly the reason for.

“Why would you do that?” he whines, tugging onto the handcuffs again. His face grows frustrated at the restraint.

And then it's gone. What was a frustration just a second ago, you watch his entire face morph into a perfect slowly growing smirk.

He's satisfied. Satisfied that once again, he proved you just how much control he has over you even with barely any way of touching you. He can't use his hands, he can barely move as they stay handcuffed above him, secured around your bed headframe. But that hasn't stopped him. No. He was cunning enough that at the first chance of being somewhat close to you, he used his mouth.

“You'll pay for that.” you inform him, trying to keep your features hardening and not to melt when Jungkook's lips stretch into a wide grin.

“For what?” he scoffs, “For almost making you cum?”

Ignoring the obvious and amused jab at you nearly losing it (when he's the one handcuffed), you nibble on your inner cheek.

“Come on, free me now. You had your fun.”

Your eye almost twitches at that.

“Lemme fuck you, you love it from behind, huh?”

Despite his nasty words leaving your stomach fluttering, more than it should, you don't let him get past your walls. You sigh, loud so he can hear it perfectly and maybe make him feel unsure of what's about to come. He stays silent. Watching you as you reach for your nightstand, you feel his eyes appreciating your nudity before they go back to wondering what you're doing.

You pull out the sex-toy he gifted you, the one you both used two or three times. His brows are pinched together, probably wondering what and who you're going to use it for.

Now, since you've never done this with Jungkook before, you being in full control which has proved to be debatable, you've no idea how he will possibly react. You can only assume. From being in an intimate relationship with Jungkook, you've learned a lot. Apart from the physical side of your own sexual preferences and desires, you've come to notice how Jungkook loves to feel you up. He loves to touch you, explore your body each time like he has never done before.

Even without having many sexual partners before, it's safe to say you've never felt more comfortable than being in Jungkook's hands. Quite literally. The way he touches you… he knows what he's doing.

Obviously, this is in a way a punishment for him. Actually, now that you think about it, you're not sure if he's doing it purely because you want to, or because of another reason.

So when you place yourself at the end of your bed, making sure you have enough space to lay down, you do exactly that. With one swift movement, you spread your legs apart, giving him a full on view on the thing he couldn't get enough of.

All cockiness is smeared off his face. And while triumph burns inside you – from this great achievement – a realization hits him.

“No.” he murmurs, watching the way you smirk as you turn on the sex-toy. You bring the fake imitation of cock to your clit, moaning at the vibration as soon as it touches you.

Bottom lip caught between your teeth, there's a clank resounding in front of you as your lips twitch. “I'm definitely having my fun now.”

“I was–I was just teasing. Come back here, baby.”

You should've probably taped his mouth shut. The freaking petname really tests your patience and determination.

“I'm serious.”

But he's ignored by you, at least you act like you can't hear him, enjoying the way he groans in protest. However, you can be just as teasing and you moan loudly, letting the dildo's tip enter you.

“Y/N,” he growls, “This is not funny.”

“Oh, fuck.”

You would have laughed if you weren't so focused. The truth is, you're sensitive down there – something that's caused by Jungkook and his always running mouth. As much as you itch to get to him and toss the sex-toy as far as possible, you don't give him that satisfaction. At least, not now.

“Who's in control now, Jeon?” you hum, opening your eyes clouded by both amusement and lust.

“Okay, I get it.” he grits through his teeth. “Come here.”

“Say it nicely and maybe I'll consider.”

If looks could kill, you're sure you would be six feet under. But one moment of leaning your head down, moaning out loud, you notice his jaw clenching before he clears his throat.

“Come here,” he says softly.

Cracking your eyes, you grin in achievement as you sit up. You're too impatient, you want to touch him. No scratch that. You want to feel him. You want him inside you. But you're playing your part in this act, making it seem as if you have all the time in the world.

You turn off the sex-toy, the one he probably mentally curses for buying, and you come closer to him. The expectation and despair on his face makes you want to laugh. He's cute. And freaking hot too.

His chest heaves, it glistens with a sheer coat of sweat. His cologne and scent that's glued to his skin has filled your bedroom. He watches you carefully, almost as if he expects you to tease him more. But when you sit back down on his thighs, facing him, he sighs in relief. His cock begs for attention and you give him a few pumps, ones that make his eyes flutter shut as he gets what he wants. Partly.

You leave the dildo next to you, planning on using it later as you glance at your nightstand. A look of surprise and then disappointment fills your face, one that Jungkook quickly questions.

“What?”

“I've got no condoms. You have some with you?”

Jungkook snickers, “You mean did I bring condoms with me when you decided to have a break from this ?”

You give him a glare, “I wasn't planning on having sex.”

“Do I look like I was?” he questions with a raise of his brow.

“Don't you have them with you most of the time?”

“Clearly not,” he rolls his eyes, “What's the issue anyways? I haven't had sex with anyone else.”

You're the one who rolls their eyes now, “You would be really quick if you have. It's been like a week since the trip.”

Deep down, you know Jungkook could've gone anywhere and had sex during this week. If he wanted to.

“And you know it's not about that.” you add.

“Let's end this with a bang. Since you know, we're not supposed to have sex then.”

“Are you mocking me?” you frown. He purses his lips to avoid smirking.

“What did you say? One last time?”

“You know, keep talking and I'm gonna finish myself in front of you.”

“Not what I had in mind but,” he acts as if he's thinking hard. “It would still be something. I love that cunt.”

Almost choking on your spit, you quickly recover. You need to wipe that smirk off his face. “Or I could just leave you here, handcuffed and naked.”

“You wouldn't!” he exclaims.

“Try me.”

He shakes his head with a disapproving frown. “We don't have that many options. Either raw or go to sleep.”

What are you even talking about? Your coincidence scolds you.

“You're right,” you say, already hovering. “I love this cock.” you tell him cheekily, watching his eyes widen just as you grab him by the base.

You bring it to your entrance, teasing him a little (and yourself too) but the glare he gives you just prolongs it. He lifts his hips, almost entering you and you gasp, giggling.

“Who's impatient now?”

“You're testing my patience right now.”

“If I were you, I wouldn't talk too much.” you hum, warning him cutely which causes his features to harden. Oh my god, perhaps you're enjoying this way more than you thought you would!

Despite everything, you don't want to deprive him and yourself of the pleasure. It's easier to give him one cheeky grin as you guide him to your entrance. His eyes dance across your exposed breasts, looking down at where you're about to connect. That's enough for you to slowly sink down his length, gritting your teeth from the immediate heat that swallows you whole.

Sex is amazing. But sex with Jungkook has shown you it's more than that.

You would've never thought how addicted you can become to this. Maybe it's a little too dangerous but you don't seem to care. Not at the moment anyway, not when he spreads your folds and stretches your warm and wet walls. Oh god.

It takes you a moment to fully sink down on him, his hard length settled inside of you as you feel every inch of him. Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. Though, he doesn't usher you to move and gives you space to get used to him. You swear you can feel him in your stomach.

Starting to roll your hips, your clit brushes against his pubes as his jaw tightens once again. That's not enough for him, but he doesn't voice the annoyance and frustration just yet. He lays his head down properly, dark eyes watching you and the way your body rolls.

You bite your bottom lip, momentarily closing your eyes just to open them and see him staring. “You like that, baby?” you joke, watching his hardening features turn into amused once as you both giggle.

“Baby?”

“You call me that too.”

“Mhm, I do.” he hums as you spread your palms over his chest and lean forward. “You love it.”

“Maybe a little bit too much.” you confess, laughing at your obvious confession.

And then you lift your hips, his cock rubbing against your wall which quickly wipes away his smirk. You let the head of his cock stay inside you, his entire length coated with your juices.

“Don't play with me,” he says. “This is torture.”

“Then beg.” you propose, watching his features turn into pure shock before they change into devastation.

It's funny. Makes you giggle all over again.

“What?”

“You heard me. Beg,” you grin, “Or what? Is that against your male ego?”

“You're so cruel,” he begs. “If I knew–Hey now!” he exclaims when you let him slide out of you, your lips curving into a smirk.

You get off him entirely, laying on your tummy beside him. Elbow leaned against the soft mattress, you prop up your chin on your palm. Jungkook groans, frustration getting the best out of him as you grab the vibration. Turning it on, you catch his attention as you press the vibrating tip against his hard cock. He flinches, cussing you out immediately.

“Yah!”

You laugh, “What? Does it hurt?”

“I don't know if you noticed, but I'm fucking hard and sensitive.” he grits through his teeth and you pout. “Just do something.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn off the sex-toy, playing into the little facade you created as you toss it away. Lifting yourself, you hoist your leg over his hips and face him with your back. He barely has any chance to react as you sink down on him again. This time, you actually move. He breathes out in relief.

“I knew you were a good girl.” he mutters, causing you to stop. “No, no. Continue.” he reacts immediately which makes you smile.

You hold your balance by gripping his legs, just below his knees as you start riding him. It's hard to focus on other things than just his cock inside you.

“Mhm, fuck.” You hear behind you, a soft moan leaving your own mouth when he hits your good spot.

You pick up your pace, your ass smacking against Jungkook's skin but when you start to feel the familiar heat gathering in your lower religion, you're forced to stop. You don't want to cum too soon. Jungkook whines, cursing under his breath.

“You're so whiny.” you comment, sending him a look of amusement across your shoulder.

He's frowning, mouth pouting without realizing as he tugs onto the handcuffs again. Realization hits him and that makes you laugh again. He forgot he's handcuffed and wanted to touch you.

“Just wait until you're done.” he threatens.

Ignoring the way your stomach tightens in excitement, you don't give him that satisfaction of recognizing his effect that he has on you. Instead, you turn around to face him, sitting back on his thighs as you lean toward him.

“One last time, remember?"

“You also said break and look at us now,” he bites back smartly. “When I asked you if you're gonna let me in, this wasn't what I had in mind. But I'm not complaining.”

You start tracing random patterns on his abs, they flex under your touch and you know he's holding himself back. “That would be awful if you were complaining.” you hum.

“Y/N,” he whines. “Just do something.”

“I told you. Beg… or ask nicely.” you hum, moving your finger up to his chest.

“Please,” he says dryly.

You lift your brow at him, giving him an unimpressed glare. “I said nicely.” you remind him.

He groans, almost ready to throw a tantrum. Oh, this is so much fun!

“Please, wanna fuck that pussy.”

You smile, leaning forward to get close to his face. His breath hitches as your lips hover over his. The faintest touch of them earns the corner of his lips before you pull away. You wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him a little before you put him inside you again. Jungkook hums and nods, obviously too joyful that you've finally listened. You don't waste any time, lifting your hips up and down as you ride him.

“This is what you wanted?”

“Fuck yes.” Jungkook breathes out, muscles tensing. “Fuck, that's it. Yeah, just like that.”

He says, forcing his eyes to stay open as he watches your breasts bouncing.

“Fuck, baby.”

Despite being fully engrossed in chasing your orgasm, you still smile in the midst of it.

You're close to cumming, stopping your movements shortly after which leaves Jungkook whining. Loud and clear.

“You were close, weren't you?” he teases after frustration slowly fades away.

“Shut up,” you bite.

“Come on. Fuck me. Please .” he begs softly.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you comply and move your hips again. This time, you don't stop. You chase your orgasm while Jungkook coaxes you through it.

“That's right, use me.”

“You like this?” you breathe out, throwing your head back as you feel yourself getting closer and closer.

“I love it,” he corrects you. “I'm gonna miss this cunt so much.”

“Don't say that,” you croak out. “You're making me regret things.”

“No regrets,” he groans. “Fuck, yeah.” He moves his hips up, meeting your thrusts in the middle as you whimper.

A few more thrusts and one big from Jungkook, you come undone above him. The knot snaps inside you and your entire body stills as your walls start clenching and unclenching. Your juices drip down Jungkook's length, undoubtedly staining your sheets as well but that's the least of your worries.

Jungkook watches you come back to reality, eyes clouded with lust.

“You think you can go for round two?” he asks, watching you breathe out an audible chuckle.

You can.

Giving him a nod, you settle onto rubbing his chest softly while trying to catch your breath.

“Uncuff me,” he says, stealing all your attention once again – this time not caused by the usual charms of the man under you. “Just wanna touch you.” he adds, softly and with a pout.

“What if I don't want you to touch me?” you hum, starting to roll your hips again which makes him hiss.

He grunts, closing his eyes. “Don't lie to yourself.”

Regardless of both of you aware of the lie, you keep smiling knowing he's damn right.

“I'm not gonna do anything, I swear.” he promises, whining as your movements deepen.

Feeling like you could chase your second orgasm of the night, you reach behind you and put your hands on his thighs. Jungkook stares, eyes wide despite the evident desire and need.

“Holy fuck, you're gonna be the end of me.”

You giggle. You freaking giggle and Jungkook swears he's done for.

“You little minx,” he grunts. “You wanna make me cum without me touching you? That's fucking cruel.”

“I like to be cruel sometimes.” you tease.

As much as you wish his hands would be on you, touching you everywhere and the way only he can, this is so much fun.

While Jungkook's eyes are the only touch you can feel, the dark irises leave hot traces all over your skin, you enjoy his attention on you. It's no secret he alone brings you more confidence than he can ever imagine. Not to grow sentimental, especially right now and at this dirty moment, but for that you'll be forever grateful to him. You're scared for what's about to come in the future. You're too scared to think about it and you automatically shut down any hints of those thoughts coming up.

You enjoy this while you can.

After this, you want to focus on your friendship with him. It's for the best.

You could easily regret doing this with him right now. Especially after the idea of taking a break. In reality, you don't. There are no regrets as of now and you hope they won't come. You won't allow it.

“Play with your tits, baby. Show me,” Jungkook pants.

Having you slowly start to bounce on his cock again brings a rush of heat to every inch of his body. You obey, grasping your breasts into your palms while you squeeze to soft flesh. Jungkook whines and groans, clearly still frustrated he can't touch them or anything at this point.

“Pinch your nipples.” he orders, not full of dominance like you're perhaps used to, but full of desperation.

You moan as you listen to him, bringing more pleasure to your body as you imagine it's Jungkook's hands instead. Eyes closed yet again, you can't bring yourself to keep them open. Your muscles strain, lungs begging for more air as you feel your heartbeat drumming in your eardrums.

“Fuck,” you pant, “Think I'm gonna cum.” you force yourself to admit, totally clueless to Jungkook obviously seeing and feeling it.

“Rub your clit for me. Fuck.”

Hand reaching between your legs, it's a little tricky to fully obey as you're still bouncing on his cock, close to cumming. You still rub your clit, whimpering and stuttering things you can't remember. Whatever leaves your mouth blends with the sounds of skin slapping. One hand on Jungkook's abdomen, you make sure you stabilize yourself while the other works on your clit.

“Keep going, keep going,” Jungkook whimpers. “Please, please, please.”

You do. Your thighs burn but nothing won't stop you. Orgasm comes crashing down on you for the second time. Your walls clench around Jungkook's cock, sucking him dry as Jungkook warns you of his own approaching orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, I'm cumming.” he manages to get out.

Just in time, you barely make it and lift yourself as Jungkook's thick cum shoots up. The warm liquid lands on your pussy, some of it getting onto your lower belly trickling down your thighs.

Jungkook curses under his breath, head dropping down onto pillows as his chest heaves. Yours too. Dropping down next to him, there's no care in the world as you both try to come back to your senses.

After a minute of harsh breathing fading, Jungkook comments. “Almost didn't make it.”

Looking at him, you both grin at each other. “I made it.”

He scoffs playfully, amused by your confidence. He's restrained, therefore it would be completely your fault if he came inside you.

“Gonna uncuff me now?”

“Oh shit.” you curse, sitting up as you grab the key off your nightstand, leaning forward to uncuff Jungkook's wrists.

As soon as you do, Jungkook's arms shoot down as the pair of pink fluffy handcuffs land on your floor. You watch him rub his wrists, frowning before looking at you as you shoot him a sheepish grin.

“You enjoyed that?”

“Probably more than I thought I would.” you giggle.

Jungkook's lips twitch. “At least one of us did.”

“You came, didn't you?” you raise your brow at him. “I'm receiving no complaints then.”

He laughs, sitting up as he cracks his neck. Looking down at his crotch and around the bed, he cringes a little. “Made a mess.”

“It's fine, I'm gonna clean that up. Go take a shower.” you point toward the door.

“You sure?” he asks, cocking his brow at his cum sticking to your skin.

“Yeah,” you laugh, reaching for the wipes that are beside your bed. You clean yourself, ushering Jungkook to use your bathroom while you take care of this mess.

Knowing there's no point in arguing, he still with an unsure look starts to get out of your bed. What he doesn't expect though is a slap delivered on his buttcheek. He turns around, shocked with mouth agape as he shoots you a look.

“What does it feel like?” you tease, biting onto your lower lip as he shakes his head, fighting back a grin. Too bad, you catch a good glimpse of it.

“You're lucky this is over.” he tells you, ruffling his raven hair.

You're not sure if lucky is the right word to describe it, though it works for what he has in mind. And god, you're so close to calling this break off. Desperate and foolish.

But since he talks about luck, it seems like it's on your side this time considering he turns around and leaves the room before you can make another rash decision.

You decide to finish the movie after you're both cleaned, and so is your bedroom with fresh sheets. Everything goes back to normal, both of you acting as if you haven't had sex a few minutes ago. Ignoring the way every inch your skin feels like it's been electrified.

Jungkook's body takes most of the space in your bed eventually, the entire bedroom swallowed in darkness as chilly air fans your thin curtains. No scent of sex anymore just like there is no trace of your previous doings. The only proof lives in both of you now.

“Back to best friends?” Jungkook asks behind you, his arm outstretched just above your head.

“Back to best friends.” you confirm, ignoring the sentiment behind your tone.

“Don't tell anyone that I–”

“That I had you handcuffed and you whined?”

“Yah!”

Cackling, you look across your shoulder as if you could see him. “Are you ashamed of it?” you tease.

“Taehyung wouldn't let me live if he knew.”

You both laugh quietly.

“Can you rub my back now?” you say after a while.

Jungkook snickers, sighing as he gets on his side facing your back. His hand is on your back, scratching and rubbing gently as you hum in pleasure.

“Shouldn't you be the one who's rubbing my back? Y'know because of what you've put me through tonight.” he grumbles, causing you to smile into your pillow.

“Didn't you enjoy it?”

“I couldn't touch you.” he says as if that answers everything.

You still keep smiling, not being able to fight it back. “But other than that?”

He doesn't respond for a moment, leaving you to look behind you again. He hears the sheets rustling. “I came, didn't I?”

Somehow, that answers your question and you hum, lullying yourself to sleep – with the help of Jungkook's hands and touch of course. However, with a serious realization of what the fuck are you going to do now.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #personasintro

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sim0nril3y · 8 months

Text

Meet the Family

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon has the joy of meeting your family and finding out why don't you see or talk about them all that much. This brings up some unwanted memories and feelings for him too. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), family drama, shouting, very small mention of Simon's childhood, family disapproval, family arguing, reader has family, reader has siblings, family names are established but no descriptions, canon-typical swearing.

It appeared that your phone was making more of a ruckus than usual later. It seemed to buzz and beep much more frequently, each time your eyes cast down to check it they narrowed, then rolled before you pushed the device far, far away from where you had to interact with it. Yet still it actively vied for your attention. “Everything okay, babe?” Simon quizzed, pulling the cork out of the wine he’d chosen and beginning to pour you a glass. “Fine.” You short answer replied, picking up the glass and taking a large gulp.

Taking a seat opposite Simon battled internally about whether to push this conversation anymore. He wondered, if the situation was reversed if you would have tried to get more information out of him. Bloody hell. You would. “I just couldn’t help but notice you seemed a little… upset by your phone.” Nodding his head in the direction of the device. “Is something up?”

For a moment you paused, mauling over the situation for a moment before letting out a low huff and answering. “My sister is having a ‘get-together’ for her anniversary…” You announced with a heavy amount of disdain in your voice. “We’ve been invited.” Of course, you’d mentioned your family before but until this point Simon had never met them and the opportunity had never been there. “Honestly, I’m surprised I’m invited Anna said it’ll just be close family…”

“Well, I guess you count as close family considering you’re her sister, love.” Simon pointed out and you let out a low huff again. “Who else is going to be there?” “My mum and dad. My little brother Peter. Obviously, my older sister Anna, her husband Barney and their son Hunter.” Simon couldn’t help but frown at that. It would be a lot of your family to meet at once. “And do you… want to go?”

Again, you didn’t have a response right away, eyes darting away before back towards him. “I… I don’t know…” Then shaking your head. “Anna is begging me to come, but I know that is only to get the heat off her because if I’m there then all my parent’s attention will fall to me and they will explain exactly where I’ve gone wrong with my life.” Simon couldn’t help but frown at that comment, he didn’t like the thought of your family speaking poorly of you. A heavy sigh escaped your mouth. “Would… you want to go?” The question came out tiny and vulnerable, like you might scare him off with that alone.

“They know about me?” Simon quizzed, he’d never met them and he’d never really pressed to do that, he was in love with you and that was all he needed in his life. “They do…” You replied evenly. “They don’t approve... It isn’t because of you.” You quickly add with wide eyes. “They don’t approve of anyone outside of the family. They hated any girl that Peter brought home and they tolerate Barney, but that is only because they gave them a grandchild to fawn over.” You explained before frowning. “Si, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to come…”

For a moment he mauled over his options, he could go and accept whatever snide comments and berating came from your family, or he could send you to the wolves and stay home like a coward. Simon Riley was not a coward. “Tell her we’ll be there.” He leaned over to clink his glass against her own.

It was a bit of a drive to Anna’s home she shared with her husband and their son, but that gave you plenty of time to fill in all the dirty details about your family. You had started with your older sister, she was seen as the golden child and your parents bragged about almost everything that she did, her perfect marriage, her perfect children, her perfect house and her perfect holiday home. You explained, Anna had gone to a top University to study finance, but during her gap year galivanting about the US she’d met Barney who’d promptly fallen in love with her and got her pregnant. This wouldn’t typically be too big of a problem, apart from the fact that Anna been engaged before setting off and in a desperate need to escape the monotony of her relationship and her perfect life she’d thrown it all away from another lad.

It was a blow to her parents that their perfect eldest daughter had this mishap, however the fact that Barney came from an incredibly wealthy family and owned his own tech company certainly helped ease him into the family. Then their grandson Hunter came into the picture and everything was a perfect ending from there.

On the other hand, there was your younger brother Peter who had barely scraped by in his school and your parents had to persuade Universities to accept him. He spent more times in clubs than in his classes. Your parents saw him as a typical boy, causing some trouble and chasing the ladies. Boys will be boys; they’d excused with a hearty laugh as Peter would be trotted to the cells for indecent exposer or public indecency. Still even after all the trouble he’d caused Peter was still the apple of their eyes, your mother fawned over him and your father tried moulding him into his protégé.

Then there was you. With a sister that was perfect and a brother that they dotted on that left very little time or energy for you. It seemed like you just slipped through the cracks. Even when they did have time spare for you every decision, you’d made they hadn’t approved. In their eyes, you were simply the wild little fuck-up. It pained and riled Simon that anyone thought of you as anything but perfect and good and kind.

Once they arrived at your sisters’ home Simon was surprised to find that it was an expensive looking townhouse that had been renovated to have some modern features. This strangle matched the dreamhouse that you’d muttered to him one night in your post-sex chatter, it made Simon wonder who had desired the house first, maybe it was you and Anna had simply stolen that dream to taunt you. Approached the modern frosted glass door, it opened and out stepped an older woman with a disguised smile on her face, dressed in a smart, conservative dress with sharp kitten heels. Your hand squeezed his own as you approached, announcing nicely. “Mum…” Ah, your mother, Cynthia…

“Hello darling.” Her voice was soft but hiding something, like a sickly sweet venom that was encasing you both. You had mentioned that she was high strung and highly critical, that remained to be seen. If there was one thing that Cynthia enjoyed in life it was gossiping, followed by bragging about her family, or at least some of her family members, certainly not you, you’d joked to Simon but there was a pained reality to that snide remark. “Look at you, that is certainly an interesting dress…” She observed, cupping your face then. “You look very tired, are you sleeping well?” The snide remarks had already begun, Simon observed.

You complained lowly. “Mum…” Then looked towards Simon, eyes pleading for some form of help or safety or escape but only found his own dark set that matched your own fear. “This is-” Cynthia cut you off and turned her viper grin towards at him, those dangerous eyes scanned him and searched for any little weakness or vulnerability. “This must be Simon.” Cynthia let out an almost cynical laugh. “Now, I must ask your sister to set another place, we weren’t sure that you were real…” It was another little dig that made you wince.

Cynthia then allowed the two of you to follow her further into the house, a lounge area stood before them and three men lingered inside of it. An older man sat on the sofa, drink in hand and head drooping, another around Simon’s age stood behind a small make-shift bar, cleaning glasses and straightening bottles of the labels faced out and proud and then across the room a younger man was texting on his phone. “Simon, make yourself comfortable with the men. That is my husband, Harold. This is my son-in-law, Barney.” Cynthia even gifted him a snide smile, the same she had done to Simon, they were outsiders after all, not as important as blood, simply there to give her grandchildren. “And that is my son Peter~”

Turning to you and lowering her voice, Cynthia said. “Darling, don’t worry that you didn’t bring a present, your sister understands that you don’t make a lot of money-” “N-no, I just left it at home.” You attempted to explain but your mother just chortled lowly and squeezed your shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure… just like how Peter ate all your Christmas chocolate when you were 10, hmm?” Then she poked your tummy in jest. “But I think we all know where it went.”

Simon forced himself to grit his teeth, looking between and watching you purse your lips, accepting the vicious attack with a tight smile and glossy eyes. “Now, don’t make that face~” Cynthia smirked directly at you, as if knowing she was pushing your buttons. “Come, your sister will want some help in the kitchen, I’m sure you’ll survive being apart from your boyfriend for five minutes, hmm?” Then looking towards Simon and asking. “You won’t mind if I borrow her, will you?”

More than anything he wanted to deny her, snatch you up into his side and away from anymore of her cruel remarks, but her claw-like hands were already circling you and tugging you from the room before he had a chance. The next moment, a presence walked up behind him and Simon turned to see a very happy looking man stood there. “Hey man…” A thick American accent rolled from him. “My name is Barney, you must be Simon, right?” He was quick to shake his hand and comment. “Quite the grip there, you play golf?”

Shaking his head Simon followed him back to where he’d been lingering (or probably hiding) behind his bar. “Do you drink, man? What’s your poison?” Barney asked enthusiastically, very proudly gesturing to the array of bottles that were placed behind the bar, squeaky clean but hardly used. “Whiskey. Neat.” Then leaning against the bar and waiting for it to be made. Another approached, this time your brother, tucking his phone away into his pocket as he sidled up beside him, elbows resting on the bar too, matching him stance for stance. “Simon, right? The latest addition to our fucked up little family.” Peter commented, his tone just as snide as his mother’s – the apple didn’t fall far, he supposed. “I’m sure my sister told you all about me…”

“She mentioned a few things…” Simon answered evenly, reaching out to take the offered drink from Barney, drinking it down a little too quickly to appear casual. Bloody hell, he’d been on battlefields and felt less anxious. “Well, I’ve got a few stories about my sister that I’m sure you’ll want to hear too~” The young lad began before Simon glanced in his direction, testing and bothered by his presence.

Sensing the impending tension Barney let out a hearty chuckle and said. “Maybe another time, huh?” Then giving Peter a pointed look. “Simon… what do you do for a job?” He asked in a friendly enough way, this seemed to catch the attention of Harold who actually glanced in his direction, quietly accessing and judging, it felt like you were the only normal one to actually come out of this family. “I’m in the special forces.” Simon explained, keeping his answers short and sweet, not allowing too many details to slip out, it wouldn’t be professional. They all had different reactions to this little piece of information. Peter quirked a brow whilst Barney grinned and nodded. “That’s tight. Respect, man.”

“A solider…” Peter muttered. “Lieutenant, actually.” Simon corrected in a sharp tone. There wasn’t many things in life he was proud about but you and his career were among the only few.

Again, your brother seemed to stir from beside him. “So…” Looking at him, wanting to judge Simon’s reaction. “How many people you killed?” The question was so crass that it actually made Barney gasp before letting out a nervous laugh and saying. “Pete, I’m not sure you can ask questions like that, man…” Then another laugh before giving his brother-in-law a soft punch on the shoulder, followed by a pointed look, don’t push.

There was this clear power struggle that Peter was trying to win. This happened often with rich boys like your brother, they saw Simon as a threat because he was physically much more impending than them, feeling even worse when they discovered that Simon wasn’t as dumb as they thought he looked.

“Not something that I keep count of…” Simon answered keeping his face straight, remaining unbothered. It was a good answer, it was formal and dignified, not to mention filled with some honesty. It wasn’t like Simon could even keep count anymore, even if he had wanted to. Peter seemed unimpressed with that answer and simply huffed before saying. “Bet you could think of at least five different ways to kill me in here, right?” Again, this spiked the interest of Harold, glancing in their direction.

Another challenge. Another prod. Another opportunity to attempt to make Simon look unhinged. Attempting to break the tension Barney laughed awkwardly. “This joker-” “I could think at least ten.” Simon retorted, dark eyes watching Peter to see that smugness falter for just a moment as true fear sank in. From across the room for just a split second Harold smirked then it washed away as he finished his fifth drink of the night.

The room was thick with an air of tension as you stepped inside looking completely flustered. “It’s uh… it’s time for dinner.” You informed them, frowning as you tried to access the atmosphere, approaching Simon to rest a delicate hand on his forearm, wrapping yourself around the limb. The room cleared out as Barney escorted his in-laws to his dinning room. Gazing up at Simon, you asked. “You alright?”

Simon’s eyes seemed to focus on where Peter had been escorted from the room, watching that area on alert for a few moments before his gaze flittered back in your direction. “Told your brother I could think of ten ways to kill him in this room alone…”

You blinked. Slow and calculating. Attempting to understand the words that Simon had just rushed in your direction. “Excuse me?” You muttered, staring up into his eyes in confusion. “Why… why would you say-” “He was pushing me.” There was an edge of frustration to his tone. You brother had gotten under Simon’s skin a lot more than he was willing to admit aloud. Reaching up you cupped his face and looked into his eyes with such care and sincerity, it really did pain you to witness your family treating him in a way that left him so anxious and wound up. “I believe you.” You whispered. “I believe you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. My fucking family… It’s my family, they make it their mission to push and prod and make your life misery. I’m sorry-”

A short huff came from Simon, leaning in to kiss your forehead gently and replying. “You don’t ever apologies for any of them.” He told you, voice firm and sure. There was no part of this that was your fault. You were born into a family of cynical fakers, wanting to make everyone else’s lives as miserable as their own. He hadn’t even been around them for an hour yet, but Simon could see that you were the only good thing to come from your family. He could force himself to survive the rest of the dinner party for you… but when this was over, he never wanted to see these people again.

“Come on, now…” Your mothers voice entered the lounge and she lingered in the doorway, big fake smile on her lips and glass of wine in hand. “You were late to the party and now you’ll be late for dinner too…” Cynthia chortled, clearly still holding that grudge. “I swear, my darling girl would be late to her own funeral too…” The comment was made as she swayed down the hallway towards the dining room, Simon simply grit his teeth and continued to bite his tongue. A few more hours, he reminded himself constantly.

The dinner that was severed was nice enough. Honestly, the only cooking that you actually enjoyed nowadays was anything that Simon served up for you and it was something he was more than happy to take care of for you. It was mundane and simple and peaceful, just for some time he could force his noisy brain to shut off, it simply wasn’t warfare.

You sat beside him, food pushing around your plate, probably each little biting comment from your mother stripped away any hunger from you. Cynthia had persuaded your siblings to list all their recent achievements to you, which they seemed all too happy to do. Maybe they knew that if all that vitriol that poured from your mother was aimed at you, then they’d continue to escape it… or maybe they enjoyed it because they were just as cruel as she was.

“Are you enjoying the food?” Cynthia quirked a soft brow at Simon, it was a strange observation but Simon noted that your mother wore a face so similar to your own, maybe more than the rest of your siblings but not even one of your expressions matched. There was so much pure and true joy and easiness in your smile, but each time your mother did the same it seemed like it might crack her face into tiny pieces. “I’m sure you aren’t used to a good homecooked meal, hmm?” Then laughing lowly. “Especially with this one’s cooking…” Pointing a fork in your direction.

“It’s fine.” Simon responded evenly, clearly not to exaggerated praise that your mother had been expecting, simply narrowing her eyes and taking back another gulp of wine. “I like to cook for us…” His hand then rests on your knee beneath the table, reminding you that you weren’t alone facing your horrid family, but that Simon had your back. “Between the two of us, I have more time to cook, anyway.” Then he shrugged, gazing in your direction and seeing your desperation to find safety and warmth within him. “With all the hours that she works and then the time she spends on her art, I like to keep her fed…” Too afraid to continue aloud, Simon thought, keep her warm, provided for her, keep her happy, keep her satisfied. Just… keep her.

A deep scoff came from Cynthia then, another big glug of wine until her glass was empty. It seemed that Simon had given Peter the opportunity to speak then, smirking from across the table. “Speaking of work…” Those dangerous eyes loomed as you sat a little straighter in your chair. “Heard from a friend that you missed that interview dad set up…” The comment was thrown out there so casually but you were left reeling as you knew the chaos that simple comment would cause. Besides, how did he even know that? There wasn’t a chance in the world that Peter had friends to be able to tell him that information, so what? Was he following you? Keeping tabs on you? Before you even had the chance to interrogate him Cynthia spoke first.

“No, no…” Placing down the wine bottle onto the table with a heavy thud, eyes fixed on you. “Please tell me that isn’t true.” Raising her brows, as if waiting for you to deny Peter’s allegations but you remained sheepishly quiet. “You lied to me.” There was a fiery rage in her eyes now and you knew that you were in for it. “You told me that you went. I can’t believe you would lie to your own mother…” Your mouth opened then, as if to defend yourself but Cynthia was much too quick to continue her tirade. “We have spoken about this again and again… I made it clear it is time to give up on this silly little fantasy that you’ve been holding onto. It is time to grow up and join the real world. You need to be more like your brother and your sister…” Gesturing wildly to them as Anna sat almost ashamed with her gaze down to her lap and Peter sat there with a smarmy smile the instigator of this.

Again, you opened your mouth, but her hand came up sharp in your direction. “Do you know the strings your father had to pull to organise that interview?” Then gesturing towards Harold who seemed completely unphased, cutting his steak into another bitesize piece whilst his wife continued to berate their daughter before the audience. “You are such an ungrateful brat and you always have been. When will you understand? You have absolutely zero desirable qualities so finding a decent job will be very difficult for you… who in their right mind is going to want to hire someone like you, hmm?”

Everyone apart from Cynthia and Peter appeared mortified, Anna looked to you with horror on her face and then Barney spoke, careful smile on his face. “She still had plenty of time to figure out what she wants to do, right? Anna took a gap year during college… Pete did the same… So, she isn’t going abroad or whatever, instead she’s trying to… to… figure out if she can follow her passion, I think it’s-” “Be quiet.” Cynthia growled at him then, teeth grit. “Don’t talk such nonsense… Peter and Anna were working hard at college and needed a break to find themselves and after returned to college and get their degrees. What does she have? Nothing. I couldn’t even convince her to apply to any colleges… She is a lazy, stubborn, silly little girl and you are chasing a hopeless dream-” “Enough.”

Every set of eyes then turned to look at Simon who sat with a furious look present on his face. At the beginning of the evening, he could maybe accept those biting little comments, he could certainly accept the way that Peter had provoked him, Simon could even accept the way that your mother had sat there bragging about your siblings but he wasn’t going to allow her to utterly humiliate you like this. “You don’t fuckin’ talk to her that way.” Carefully from beside him, you muttered his name, a soft plead to try and calm the fight that seemed inevitable now. “No.” He told you firmly, quietly, gazing down at you with a set jaw and narrowed eyes. “I won’t just sit there and let her fuckin’ talk to you like this… I wont… I can’t…”

It wasn’t like Simon had grown up in a good household. It was clearly different from your own. Simon had witnessed his father completely decimate any good in his family and he was too young and too small and too scared to stop him or do anything. This is why he is the man he is today; he wouldn’t allow that again and seeing your family ripping you to shreds, tearing apart any good and hope and light inside of you was too much for him. Not you. Never you.

“Simon, please. You simply don’t understand...” Cynthia began. “My daughter lives in this word of make believe where she thinks she is going to become and artists and be able to make money and buy big houses like her sister. It’s just ridiculous. I’ve tried getting through to her, but-” “Your daughter is a fuckin’ adult.” Simon growled then, leaning into the table slightly so he could talk across at her. “She doesn’t need you to find her a job and she doesn’t need you to approve the choices that she makes in her life.” Simon growled, feeling this need to protect you and keep you safe, that very same one that had grown for his mother in his childhood. Different, but… the same. “Your daughter… your daughter is fuckin’ amazing. There isn’t a thing about her that needs to change. She’s intelligent and she’s soft and kind and she’s really fuckin’ talented and I wonder how all of that managed to happen when she grew up around you cunts-” The entire table seemed to gasp in unison.

There seemed to be this stunned silence before everyone erupted, Peter almost fell off his chair laughing, whilst baby Hunter wailed from the commotion. Cynthia stood stark upright, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Unacceptable! Disgusting! Unacceptable! He’s an animal! He’s feral!” Stalk through the house on a tirade of insults aimed in his direction with her husband trailing behind her. Anna was trying to hopelessly clean a puddle of wine from where it had teetered over onto the table. “It’s fucking vintage!” There were real tears in her eyes, much to Simon’s surprise.

Just then Barney stood up, bouncing his son in his arms and looking between you and Simon. “I think… I think it would be best if you guys left.” There was sorrow in his eyes as he suggested it, not wanting to be unkind but just not wanting anymore drama. It was probably for the best even if Simon did have a few more choice words for them.

The entire car ride home you were unusually quiet beside him. He was actually a little lost on how to handle this situation. There weren’t a part of him that was sorry for what he’d said to your family, or more specifically your mother. Simon just couldn’t handle the fact that she could talk to you in such a vile way. There was only so much that Simon was willing to take and he’d lost it. Fuck, had he scared you? Were you mad at him? Were you sad for causing a rift in your family? Had he even caused a rift? Clearly, they hadn’t thought very much of you before he’d been there…

A small sniffle from beside him caught his attention, glancing in your direction and under the glow of the streetlamps Simon saw your face wet with tears. Without hesitation Simon signalled and pulled his truck onto an empty road, clambering from the driver’s seat and around to yank open your door. A moment later his arms were around you, hand supporting the back of your head burying your face into the crook of his shoulder. “You’re alright. Shh. You’re alright, babe.”

After a few moments of allowing, you to just sob into his shoulder, your voice muffled against his shirt. “Don’t ca-care what they s-say about me-” “Well, I do.” There was a thick edge to his voice, pulling back to cup your face and looking for any sign of fight towards your family but you seemed defeated, you seemed emotionally drained. Where was that witty girl that had corned him on a night out? Where was the one that had to almost twist his arm to open up? Where was that fight for her own pretty self? “I care about what they say about you because they are dead fuckin’ wrong, babe. No one deserved to be talked to like that. I won’t allow it.”

There was something deeper simmering here behind all this. There was something that Simon didn’t want to confess or discuss. The berating. The belittling. The treatment of less than… This was something that Simon wouldn’t allow for you because he had experienced it and much worse. “You don’t deserve it.” It was like Simon was talking to all the people in his life that hadn’t deserved the fate they were given. You. Him. His mum. His brother. His friends he’d lost. The soldiers that had died in his arms. “Okay?” “Okay.”

Masterlist | Ask | 04-02-2024

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carolmunson · 6 months

Text

the boy is mine (carol's edition)

you know i had to do it to 'em. if you'd like to take a crack at the 'the boy is mine' writing challenge, you can check it out here. you can also see the masterlist of everyone's works here. a/n: for me, how eddie was fleshed out in FOI has always been how i see him. hurting, but goofy, but snarky, but sweet, but loving, but scared, but all that. eddie 'has taken care of himself since third grade' munson just makes sense to me. in this ficlet, our romantic night in gets muddled when eddie doesn't know how to just let someone love him right. i've also always have written eddie as older than he actually is, so here -- he's 25. argue with the wall. tw: 18+, angst, hurt/comfort, some smutty references but no smut, references to smoking and drinking. some arguing but nothing crazy.

The day was hard on his shoulders and back, no one should be hunched over the hood of a car for this long -- and even being young isn't saving him from the grimace he makes every time he gets out of his bed with a decades old mattresss. Eddie cracks his neck each way while he chugs down the road leading to Forest Hills, slick and shiny with rain from the afternoon. The orangey yellow headlights on his beat up '71 Chevrolet bounce cheerily off the darkened asphalt, but the scrape, clatter, and growl of his engine and whatever else was a stark reminder that this van was on it's last leg. As bright as the headlights were, the gloomy purpled evening sky was a perfect match to his mood.

Today is Eddie Munson's birthday.

For the past few years, Eddie has spent his birthday working double shifts at the auto shop and then meeting the guys at the Hideout to get so drunk he can't see. Can't be sad about your birthday if you're too drunk to think about how your mama's dead and your dad won't call. Can't be sad about how you won't ever get to hear her sing you happy birthday, or put on a record, or dance with you in the living room. Or have your dad make dinner and put the six pack away if only for that night. To not run out on 'a job' or 'work a late shift' where he won't come back for days afterward.

He'd drink and drink until you had to hold him up to get him out of the bar, piling him into the back seat and having the guys follow you home to help load him into bed. He always looked forward to the greasy diner hangover breakfast in the morning where it could be just the two of you, and not his birthday, and not all the awful things he thinks he is.

The gravel groans and crunches when he pulls in at the side of the trailer he used to share with Wayne. With another roll of his head and shoulders he kills the ignition, hopping out of the van and leaning over to grab his bag. It's only when he slings it over his shoulder that he notices the warm glow of the kitchen light on, passing muted through the small curtains. He hip checks the door shut and makes his way up the steps that need repairing -- another thing to add to the list for 'Spring Cleaning' in a couple weeks that he knows he'll forget to do until you remind him or one of the boards rots out. Eddie's ring tap against the metal handle and he braces for the screech of the door, only to be met with the cozy blend of garlic, onion, and rosemary hitting his nose first. He swallows while he kicks off his work boots, turning the corner to see you in the kitchenette, putting the lid back onto the one large pasta pot he has and turning the burner off. "Oh!" you jump when you see him, shock turning into a smile, "You're earlier than I thought you'd be. Hold on!"

"What're y--" He's interrupted by you hurrying into the fridge, glass clinking when you pull out a Mionetto bottle that was already opened to reveal the cork.

"Surprise!" you ring out, popping the bottle with a little flourish, "Happy birthday!" He stands there, unsure at first what he's looking at, trying to take it all in. You in the kitchen with an apron on, the table set nice, a cake set on the counter to cool with a covered bowl of what looks like home made vanilla frosting next to it. To the side, a familiar small notebook lays opened to a buttercream recipe -- his mom's buttercream recipe, still scrawled in her loopy handwriting on yellowing pages with fading blue ink.

"Melvald's didn't have any like, nice cups," you say with a scrunch of your nose as you pour two glasses of prosecco into flimsy plastic flutes, "Is that okay?" "Uh..." he snaps back to reality when you hand him the cup, "Y-yeah that's okay." "Happy birthday, handsome," you smile, raising your drink before you take a sip, he follows suit.

"What is all this?" he asks, voice sounding like it's coming from someone else. Objectively, he should be falling to his knees right now, crying with adoration for you. Sobbing over the clear effort you've put in for a romantic night together at the trailer. "Um," you suck in your lips quickly, and release them, eyes lowering to the scuffed linoleum, "I uh, I made braised short rib and mashed potatoes, some broccoli. Wayne told me that um, that your dad used to smoke them for your birthday but we don't have a smoker so..."

"Why?" The swell in his heart builds from genuine affection to suspicious bitterness, this was way too much.

"Did you not check the calendar today or something? It's kind of a big day," you try to lighten the mood with a laugh, taking the apron off and hanging it on the hook by the hallway, "Sit, sit." He follows your direction, sitting at the table where the place setting is the best it can be with what you have. You even folded up the paper towels nicely. He silently sips on the bubbles, uncomfortable on the makeshift throw pillow cushion on the chair, while you take the plate in front of him and begin serving.

"I should um," he starts, voice gravelly, "I should wash my hands and uh, and change or..." "Yeah," you nod, voice higher pitched than expected, "Go, go ahead. It'll all be ready when you're done washing up." He leaves the glass behind, thudding into the bedroom where he notices a Frederick's of Hollywood bag sitting at the end of the bed. A small pile of gifts in shiny blue paper lay stacked up pretty on his dresser -- a card front in center 'Eddie My Love' - you write it in the same way you sing it to him absentmindedly every now and again. Flipping the lyrics every time. He swallows again, pulling in his cheeks and biting down while he peels off his coveralls and slips into what he was planning to wear to drinks later -- a band tee and some worn jeans. It feels cheap to wear this now, now that you've put in all this effort. Now that you're looking all sweet and put together in the kitchen for him. He rolls his shoulders again, trying to stretch the frustration out. He doesn't wanna be mad at you, you didn't do anything wrong. He doesn't wanan feel so sick in his chest over it -- but he does. All this work for what? Eddie takes his rings off to wash his hands, using the same Dove bar soap to wash the remaining grime off his face from work. Big inhale, big exhale into the towel on the door before making it back to the kitchen where the dinette table was ready for dinner, two tapered candles lit in old holders on the side. He sits across from you, your eyes glittering in the light of the flame.

"You didn't have to do this," he says quietly. Your lips twitch into a half smile, head cocking slightly to the side. "I know, but it's your day...it's a big one, too. The big two-five," your voice doing its best to soothe, "Can't just, I dunno -- get plastered at The Hideout every year..."

"Sure I can," he shrugs with a quirk of his brows, pushing the mashed potatoes around with his fork. He watches the melty pat of butter ooze off one of the edges like a volcano, pooling in next to the broccoli. "And you like that? That's fun for you?" you chuckle before noticing he's just playing with his food, "You gonna eat?"

"Getting plastered at The Hideout is like, tradition," he mutters, looking at the clock over the cabinets, "And we're gonna be late meeting the guys."

"Ed..." you say, a vapor of disappointment floating through his name when you say it. He winces.

"Like I said, babe," he says, "You didn't have to do all this -- y'know, spend all this extra cash on dinner and --"

"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to -- I wanted to do something nice so that your birthday could be sp -- " "Okay, well I don't need my birthday to be special, it never is," he snaps, he doesn't mean to, "I didn't ask you to do this for me." You hold your soft gaze at him, shoulders round down while you rest a cheek on your palm. If Eddie's mama was still alive, she'd tell you to get your elbows off the table.

In the flame, your glittering eyes turn glassy. You let a soft breath out through your nose, a sulk clear in your posture. "You're right," you mumble, a soft squeak of a sound while you slowly stand, shaking your head, "You're right, you didn't ask. I shouldn't have assumed that you..."

You trail off while you flick the lights on in the kitchen, leaning forward to gently blow out the taper candles. Your hand swishes away the smoke and soot, pushing out out of the cracked kitchen window before the smoke detector catches it. The cabinets creak while you take out some Tupperware from the top shelves, the good stuff that the ladies in the park sold Wayne back in the 70s. They click and clack as the bowls and trays and their tops hit the formica counter top.

"Well--well, wait -- you don't have to pack it up, babe," he says, sitting up a little taller in the chair. When he hears the shudder in your breath he stands, "You don't have to put it away."

"No, it's fine," you assure, a small strain coming through from your chest, "It'll be like -- you'll be so excited when you get home and there's all this food. I just gotta call the guys and tell them to just go to the bar instead of coming here."

"Whaddayou mean, coming here?"

You turn around, eyes wet now but not crying, a tug on your brow and taughtness in your jaw from where you try to hold it back.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," you shrug, "But like, it's not important. Lemme just pack this up and I'll get it figured out." "What's the surprise?" he asks, tilting his head to get a better look at you. "Well I..." you let out another breath, lower lip wobbling; an action your stop with a sharp inhale through the nose. "Well I thought it would be fun if the guys came over and did a birthday oneshot campaign with you. I helped Gare and Jeff write it and Jeff was gonna DM," you let out in one breath, "And it was gonna be like, a silly drinking game version." "You were gonna play?" he asks meekly. You nod. You rarely play, always watch. Always make snacks or help him clean up the trailer, always order the pizza because Eddie forgets to. Always add extra mushrooms on one because Richie likes extra mushrooms. Always make sure to get one with white sauce cause red cause doesn't sit great with Dustin.

"Did a, um, did a character sheet and whatever," you say, defeated, while you open the utensil drawer to pull out an extra pair of tongs and a serving spoon, "Drew her -- it's in your card."

You start to pack up the food and the tears start up again, welling in your eyes but still not spilling over. Eddie steps forward, getting between you and the pots and pans on the stove.

"Hey, wait," his voice bare audible, "Babe, don't."

"It's okay," you sniffle, "I just have to call them."

"No -- baby, stop," there's an edge now, ring hand falling on your wrist, "Stop packing it up."

"It's fine--"

A waltz between you, him, and the tupperware on the counter.

"Don't make me..." he huffs, trying to maneuver the tongs out of your hand, "If you don't stop, we're gonna have a pr--"

"Ed, enough! We will go to the bar, it's fine," you urge, anxiety heightening in your chest where it bursts, you start to cry, "Please, let me put it away. It's fine. I just -- fuck --"

"I feel like such an asshole," you sigh, breaking. You relent, letting go of the tongs where he takes them and leaves them between the burners on the yellowed stove.

"Don't be like that, you're not," he soothes, closing in on you against the counters edge, "You're not, I'm sorry."

"I really just wanted your birthday to be special," you weakly murmur, wiping at your eyes.

"You know how I get," he says, rough hands coming up to cup your face where he leaves a soft kiss to your cheek, "M'just not great at bein' fussed over."

"You deserve to be fussed over, doofus," you garble out, his thumbs replacing your fingers to catch the tears as they fall.

"It's hard, babe," he nods, "You knows it's hard for me. Y'know with my mom's stuff gone and my dad being...who fuckin' -- who fuckin' knows. The Hideout just makes sense. That's y'know -- that's what I deserve."

"That's not even true," you shake your head, "Don't be stupid."

"Well, I barely graduated so," he offers you a peck to each salty, wet cheek, "Stupid's my middle name." "Don't cry, sweetheart," he breathes, leaning in with a slow kiss. A kiss drenched in apologies and thank yous, breaks away just to kiss again. And again, and again, and again until you're both breathless under the sickly yellow green glow of the overhead kitchen light. "How about I change into something nicer than this, and we'll pop these plates in the microwave and start over," he asks, a smile toying on his full lips, "'Kay?"

You nod back, getting another peck stolen from you, and following him down the hall. "Oh, yes, yes, allow me to slip into something more..." he announces with flourish, posing half sexily half awkwardly in the doorway to his bedroom, "Uncomfortable." You snort, giggling while you follow in after him, settling on the end of his bed, "You don't have to dress up fancy." "'Course I do," he tsks, brows furrowing, "M'going to a five star restaurant doll, I can't look like a slob." He pulls out a pair of slacks from a funeral he went to two years ago, discarding his jeans and sliding them up over his pale legs. To your dismay, he plucks the t-shirt with a screen print of a tux out of his closet, and exchanges the worn Dio tee with that. You'll always prefer the Dio tee. "Classy," you tease. He winks, and that's enough to make you okay with the tux shirt. His fingers trail over the stack of presents and land on the envelope.

"Can I open the card?"

"Sure."

"Am I gonna cry over it?" he asks, looking at you over the dull paper when he flicks open the top.

You shake your head, "Nah, it's not sappy. You're the sappy card writer."

"I'm so sappy," he agrees, pulling out the card, "I gotta work on that, huh?"

"No, I like when you're sappy, ya sap." You watch him read the card, blush evident in the warm wash of gold from his bedside lamp. You're not a sappy card writer, but you always know how to make him feel like a kid with a crush. When he opens up your character sheet his bottom lip tucks between his teeth. "Shit," he grins, "Rogue tiefling, huh? You tryna kill me?"

"I thought it could be fun," you titter, standing up to look at the pages next to him, "Chaotic evil. Look at me."

"Ugh, baby's first villain," he gushes, "I love it."

"Look at the picture," you bounce on the balls of your feet while he goes to the next page. A much quieter 'shit' falls from his mouth. It was not a drawing that was for the rest of the guys to see, a sketch of a tiefling version of you in an outfit meant for his eyes only. "So you are trying to kill me," he asks, fingers tracing the curve of 'your' hip on the page where the outfit digs into the fat of 'your' hips.

"No, that'll be later," you smirk.

"Hm?' his brows raise.

"What do you think is in the Frederick's bag?" you ask, faux innocence smattering into your tone.

"Ah, you put a little costume together for me?" Eddie's mouth waters at the thought, brain fuzzy as he looks at the picture and then at you.

"Something like that," you tease, making your way back out into the hallway. "Something like that?!" he repeats back, hurrying back out to pull you into a searing kiss before you can make it back into the kitchen. The kind from the movies where he dips you down toward the faded carpet. As he pulls away, he nuzzles your nose against his, staring at you through lowered lids, "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," you nod, both of you making it back to full height, "Happy birthday."

You relight the candles on the table and nuke the plates of food, topping off each others plastic flutes with the left over Prosecco. There's three cases of beer in the fridge and you know Gareth is bringing Absinthe and it's something you pray doesn't mess your boyfriend up too much.

Dinner is the best meal Eddie's had in years, unable to keep his eyes off of you in between bites while you rehash your day and him, his. You're picking up the dishes off the table when the boys show up and they deliver. Taking the heat off you, they provide the snacks and even more extra booze. Jeff passes out party hats that make you all look ridiculous -- Eddie can remember laughing this much on his birthday, not even when he was a kid. Not even when his mama was alive.

After the oneshot completes and everyone is ankles deep in a tipsy haze and the smoke from a few joints lingers in the air, you walk in with the cake that is finally frosted -- the 2 and 5 confetti colored candles dancing in front of him while the rest sparkle in the middle of the coffee table. He makes one thousand wishes that he knows will come true because his friends are all still there with him and so are you. You're one room right over, cutting the cake and plating it up, and you'll be there when the boys leave in your skimpy nerdy costume that you bought just for him. And you'll be there while he sleeps and you'll be there when he wakes up. You'll be there across from him the next morning when he feeds you fries dipped in chocolate shake at the diner.

Today is Eddie Munson's birthday. And his mother's buttercream frosting is the sweetest it's ever tasted.

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