#not me though. i’d be pissing my pants and passing away | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

happilysmythe · 9 months ago

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❥ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚

trent frederic.

word count: 7.1k

warning: explicit content

"she can get a taste" — tyga

- - -

ALLISON

Trent Frederic.

Only the most annoying neighbor someone could possibly have. His snarky personality, his cocky demeanor, his massive ego…wildly unpleasant, to put it plainly.

I only know him because of Brady—my best friend. He has been since we were kids. I went to school with him for years, so it was only natural that we ended up gravitating toward one another. Not to mention we lived only one street away from each other.

When I started to go over to his house, I met his older brother, Matthew. I ended up becoming closer with him over the years, as well as their younger sister, Taryn.

Trent was friends with Matthew. They were only a year older than me and Brady, but Trent just loved to act like I was so much younger. He was usually at their house whenever I was, so I had the displeasure of seeing him more often than I would’ve liked to.

He’s the only person I know who calls me “Al”. And boy, do I hate it. I’ve told him countless times that I despise it, but he refuses to call me anything else. He knows it pisses me off—that’s why he does it.

In 2016, Matthew and Trent got drafted into the NHL. I was upset at the time about Matthew leaving—as I said, we had gotten close—but I felt a sense of relief that Trent would eventually be all the way out in Boston after college. I would barely have to see him anymore.

Then, Brady got drafted in 2018, and it was just me and Taryn.

Every year, the Tkachuks would host this big party and invite a bunch of people for Christmas. It was always fun for us, especially as kids. For a few years after the kids got drafted, they would continue the tradition. It’s gotten harder for them, though, and they eventually stopped doing it as a whole.

This year, they did something different. It would just be the kids—Matthew, Brady, Taryn, me, a few other friends…and Trent. I’d be seeing him for the first time in a few years.

Great.

- - -

I walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell, then waited for an answer. Not long after, it swung open, and a familiar face stood before me.

“Allison White,” his voice rang from the other side of the doorway. “As I live and breathe.”

He looked…different.

His hair was longer; curlier than it used to be. It was gelled up slightly and a loose strand hung in front of his forehead. He was wearing a suit—a light blue blazer with black pants, and a white collared shirt under it. His tie was red with white polka dots, and a brown belt sat at his waist.

His arms were…bigger. And a thick, titanium ring wrapped snugly around his right index finger.

But his face was the same. It always has been.

“Trent Frederic,” I sighed, folding my arms. “What a pleasure it is to see you again.”

He chuckled and stepped aside. “Come in before I lock you out.”

“Alright, alright.”

I walked past him, my arm brushing against his, then slipped off my jacket and hung it on the coat rack. I flattened my hands over my dress, smoothing it out before turning back around. Upon turning back, I found Trent standing still, his eyes fixated on me. A few moments passed before he looked back up, snapping out of his state, and spoke.

“Come on, Al.”

“Really?” I rolled my eyes, “I told you to stop calling me that. It makes me sound like a guy.”

“Oh no,” he pouted, taking a step forward, his back facing me as he walked away. Completely disregarding my complaint, he shouted, “Al’s here!” to the rest of the bunch and I shook my head, following behind him.

After walking inside, I greeted the others, some of whom I hadn’t seen in a long while. Eventually, the group sectioned off, and I ended up sitting at the kitchen island with Taryn and a few friends, just talking and having drinks. Trent went off with Matt, which wasn’t surprising, but he found a way to keep coming over and bothering me like he always did.

He pushed past me—roughly, at that—as he came into the kitchen to grab another drink.

“Do you mind?”

He turned around, a smug grin shaping his lips. “Me? Not at all,” he winked, then pushed me again as he walked out.

“Isn’t he cute?” one of Taryn’s friends asked, looking at me. “I wish that was me.”

“Hell no,” I shook my head. “He’s a dick. Trust me—no you don’t.”

“Man, I don’t care. Have you seen him? I would let him do whatever he wants to m—”

“Oh my God,” Taryn cut her off, “shut up!”

I laughed, picking up my glass and bringing it to my mouth once more to take a sip. She wasn’t wrong—Trent was good-looking, sure—but he was nothing more than an ass. It wasn’t often that a guy was more irritating than him.

I looked up to see Matt and Trent separating from the rest of their group and wondered where they were off to. But the thought ended up leaving my mind as quickly as it came.

- - -

TRENT

Matt didn’t say anything when he wanted me pulled aside. He just elbowed my arm and nodded his head to motion me out. I stood up and followed him into an empty bedroom down the hall. I crossed my arms as he shut the door behind him, then walked over.

“What’s this about?”

“Listen, man, I’ve gotta talk to you about something,” he spoke, folding his arms as well. “It’s about Allison.”

I was confused when he mentioned her name. There wasn’t much to talk about when it came to her, other than the fact that the two of us never got along. It wasn’t exactly shocking, either. I only knew her in the first place because she was friends with Brady, and she was always over their house. It was like I was forced to see her no matter what. Our personalities clashed, anyway. She’s not all that different from me, so it came to nobody’s surprise that we wouldn’t exactly be fond of each other.

I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily. “What about her?”

“Before I say anything, you need to know that I was in the same boat as you before, alright? I didn’t believe it, either.”

“Believe what?”

He took a breath. “Allison’s got the hots for you, man.”

The laugh that came out of my mouth was almost instantaneous. Allison? Please. She’d rather throw herself into oncoming traffic than see me. And sometimes, I could say the same for her.

“Good one,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “Seriously. You almost had me interested for a minute there.”

His expression fell flat with his voice. “I’m not kidding, Fred,” he said. “Taryn’s been talkin’ to me. She’s been telling me about how she mentions you constantly, how she’s all of a sudden taken an interest in the Bruins, all of this crazy shit. I’ve seen her more than you have recently and I’ve noticed it, too. I know you probably think we’re wrong, but even a bat can see it.”

“Oh, come on, dude. There’s no way that you actually believe that bullshit. None of that is even proof, you’re just talking out of your ass.”

There’s no fucking way that they’re right. She just roped him in with nothing to prove it but some speculations and he went with it. If she really felt that way I would’ve known it by now. And it wouldn’t just be Matt and Taryn suspecting it.

“She was watching your games, man,” he said, nodding his head. “She saw it with her own eyes. She went to her house to grab something and she could literally see the game on her TV in the back.”

“I don’t buy it. Just stop trying.”

“Whatever, man,” he sighed. “I just wanted to tell you in case you wanted to do something about it.”

“I’m not going to,” I told him, walking toward the door. “Nice talk.” I walked out of the room and back into the living room, then sat down.

I kept thinking about what Matt told me, though. She always hated me, I always hated her—that’s how it was supposed to be. That’s what it was. It was never anything more than that, and it wasn’t going to be. I continued to tell myself that he was wrong, even as the thought of him being right began to plague my thoughts.

He was wrong, even though she was caught watching games. He was wrong, even though she apparently would always talk about me. He was wrong, even when I would look over and catch a glimpse of her looking my way, then turn back around as if she was never looking at all. He was wrong. That’s what I had to keep telling myself. Keep convincing myself.

But even I didn’t buy it anymore.

- - -

The rest of the night sort of happened in a blur. Matt’s words hadn’t stopped echoing inside of my head, toying with my thoughts since he said them. They only hit me more and more as time progressed, until I was convinced that he really was right the whole time.

So I started to watch her.

It wasn’t often that I would pay attention to her body language—or anything about her, really—but tonight was different. She seemed to tense up when I was around, which would happen years ago, but it makes a little bit more sense if any indication of attraction comes into play. The looks I found her catching, more than once. The way it seemed as though she was trying to avoid me, trying to avoid even making eye contact with me. The simple shit like that just wouldn’t leave my mind, no matter how fucking hard I tried to make it.

And with paying attention to her came intruding thoughts of my own.

Like the way that the black dress she was wearing molded tightly to her body. Or the way that her hair fell down to her collarbones, framing her chest. Or how her legs were completely exposed, leaving me to wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around me.

“Are you listening?”

The sound of Matt’s voice took me out of my thoughts, prompting me to look away from Al and back at him. “Huh?”

“I said,” he leaned in closer, “why don’t you walk Allison home?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” she protested, folding her arms. She shook her head, “I would rather walk home with a gorilla.”

I pouted and brought my hand to my chest. “Aww. That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Al.”

She rolled her eyes and turned back to Matt. “No chance in hell.”

“Oh, come on,” Taryn chimed in. “It’s cold out! Then you don’t have to walk home alone! And it’s nightime. That would be awfully inconsiderate to make her walk alone, Trent.”

“Yeah, I’m with Al on this one. I’m all set.” I turned to her. “You’ll be fine, right?”

“Yup,” she confirmed, nodding her head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Mmm…I don’t know,” Taryn shrugged. “Sounds pretty unsure to me, doesn’t she?”

“You cannot be serious,” Allison exclaimed, then frantically looked around, stopping once she was facing the remaining group of people on the couch. “Brady!”

“Huh?” He whipped his head around. “What?”

“Can you please tell them to stop pestering me about this?”

“About wh—huh?”

Matthew sighed and rolled his eyes. “Y’know, that thing we were talking about earlier?”

“Ohhh,” he nodded slowly. “Just let him walk you, Allison. They aren’t gonna give up.” He turned back around and kept talking to the other guys near him.

“You know what? Fine,” I sighed. “I’ll do it.” I walked over to the corner of the room and grabbed my coat from the rack on the wall, then slipped my arms into the sleeves. “Come on, Al. Let’s just get this over with.”

She sighed as well and grabbed her jacket, then put it on and put her hands in her pockets. “Alright.”

“Thanks for having me,” she spoke as she hugged Matthew, then Taryn. She walked over to Brady and did the same with him. “It was really nice to have everyone here again.”

“Anytime,” Matt replied with a smile. “I’m sure it won’t be the last.” He looked over at me, a cheeky grin plastered on his face, then winked.

“Mhm,” I nodded sharply. “I’m sure. But it was nice, I agree. Thanks, guys.”

“We’ll see you again soon, yeah?” he asked as I walked to the door and opened it.

“Yeah.” I held the door open with my back and watched as she brushed past me, waving as she walked out. “See you guys.”

I shut the door behind me and caught up with Al, who was now waiting by the sidewalk. “You know you don’t have to come with me, right?”

“I do. They’re gonna watch through the window, I swear,” I said, walking beside her. “Better off just going with you and saving a useless argument.”

“I guess,” she shrugged. Her arms were folded as she slowly walked down the sidewalk.

“How have you been?”

She rolled her eyes. “If you actually cared how I’ve been you would’ve come up and talked to me tonight. You’ve had the whole night to do it.”

“Would you just answer the question?”

With a sigh, she replied, “I’ve been fine. There. Happy?”

“Yes.”

The rest of the walk was mostly silent. She didn’t want to talk to me—which was nothing out of the ordinary—so I just kept quiet. But the thoughts from earlier were still swirling through my mind. This could be the last time I see her for a while…So I decided to throw it out there.

“Hey, Al?”

She rummaged through her bag for her keys. “What?”

“So…Matt was talking to me before.”

“Oh, was he now?” she breathed. “I know. I saw.”

“He told me you have the hots for me.”

She stopped dead before the key could even reach the hole, then turned to face me. “What?”

“I didn’t believe him at first. I told him that you hated me.”

“Yeah. I do,” she angrily replied. “Wait—at first?”

“Yeah, well…He started getting to me,” I told her, folding my arms. “He told me things that got me thinking, you know? Even Taryn believes it.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“You were watching my games.”

“You’re fucking insane. I don’t have feelings for you, Trent. So don’t flatter yourself.” She stuck the key in and turned it. “He’s lying.”

“I don’t really think he is,” I argued. “He seemed pretty sure about it. I can tell when he’s lying or when he’s unsure. He wasn’t.”

“Fuck’s sake, Trent, that doesn’t mean he’s right!”

She walked inside to hang up her jacket and I stepped in, propping the door open with my hand. “If he’s so wrong then what’s with you getting all fucking defensive?”

She slammed her purse down on the kitchen counter. “God, do you ever shut up?! I can’t catch a goddamn break with you no matter what, can I?”

“Well, excuse me, princess. Apparently, I’m not allowed to ask you a question.”

“You’re such an asshole,” she shook her head. “I don’t know why I ever—” She fell silent.

“Ever what?”

“Never mind.”

I scoffed. “Seriously? You’re just gonna pretend like you didn’t say anything?”

She chose to ignore me instead of speaking. Silently, she grabbed her bag and put it down on the floor.

“Of course. Now you’re just gonna ignore me.”

She quickly whipped back around to face me and raised her voice. “Fine! You know what, Trent? Fine,” she yelled. “You were right. I have ‘the hots’ for you. I want you. You fucking happy?”

I took a breath as the words angrily came from her mouth. She finally admitted to the one thing I couldn’t stop thinking about the whole night, and yet I was still dissatisfied.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why do you care, Trent? You hate me, remember? And I hate you,” she rebutted. “That’s what this is. That’s what it always was. We’re not close, and we never have been.”

I ran a hand through my hair and scoffed. “So after I left you just kept hating me anyway?”

“Oh, my God,” she raised her voice again. “No, Trent! I didn’t keep fucking hating you!”

“So what, you were pretending?”

God, she was infuriating. So fucking infuriating. But even as I stood there impatiently waiting for an answer I couldn’t stop myself from thinking the same thoughts from earlier.

She was hot when she was angry.

But she didn’t give an answer. She didn’t have to. Because I already knew it.

“Why? What kind of sense does that even make?!”

“Because it was much easier for me to keep hating you than for me to let myself fucking miss you, Trent!”

- - -

ALLISON

Before I could say anything else, he walked toward me and pushed his lips to mine.

I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t. It was nearly impossible when his hand was on my face the way that it was, forcefully pulling me toward him. His other hand was on my waist, gripping it tightly as he kissed me.

I hated how quickly I gave in to him, how my body just seemed to fold without as much as an attempt to resist. My hand reached up and tangled in his hair as the other wrapped around his midsection and kept him close.

A low groan fell from his lips and hummed against mine as I took a handful of his hair and tugged on it. God, it was hot. He was hot. And I wish he didn’t taste so fucking good.

He tore his mouth from mine and moved it to my jaw, trailing kisses up to my ear and down my neck. Heavy breaths escaped my parted lips as the hand he had on my waist tightened its grip.

I felt his hand slide up my back, fingertips grazing the skin that was left exposed between the thin straps of my dress. The feeling of his fingers on my back, paired with his lips as they once again pressed against mine, elicited another moan from me.

Fuck him for listening to Matt. Fuck him for telling me about it. Fuck him for forcing me to admit how I felt.

And fuck him for making me want to do just that.

My hands moved to the zipper on his jacket and quickly pulled it down. He responded to the action and shrugged the sleeves down his arms, then shook it off and tossed it to the floor. A gasp left my lips as he grabbed my waist and walked me backwards, his eyes already having spotted the bed in the room down the hall.

The door slammed behind him and I soon found myself pinned to the wall with Trent’s hand firmly gripping my throat. He leaned down to kiss me again and his tongue brushed against my lips. I allowed it through without a second thought and the muscles in his hand tightened around my neck.

“Trent,” I breathed shakily. “Fuck.”

I felt him grin slightly against me and soon his free hand was on my shoulder, pushing the strap on my dress down my arm. I managed to shrug the other one off without his help and it wasn’t long before I felt him violently tugging the fabric down my body, enough for it to slip off and pool at my feet on the floor. It was almost ironic that I hadn’t worn a bra.

He hungrily eyed my figure and swallowed thickly. The warm skin of his hands grazed the exposed skin of my thigh as it trailed upward and I moaned again softly at the touch.

“Thought you hated me, hm?”

He slowly removed his hand from my neck and moved it under my chin, using a finger to tilt it up. The way that his eyes slightly narrowed and his lips faintly curved into a smirk as he looked down at me rendered me nearly speechless.

“I do,” I breathed heavily as his eyes bored into mine. “God, I hate you.”

“I’m not too fond of you either.” He pressed another soft kiss to my lips. “But you already knew that.”

My fingers curled around the lapels of his blazer and peeled it from his arms, revealing the tightness of the collared shirt under it. The fabric looked as if it was begging to be loosened, to be removed from his body. Or maybe it was just my own head that wanted that to happen.

His eyes never broke contact with mine as he reached up and loosened his tie, then pulled the red fabric from his neck and threw it down with his suit jacket.

When he kissed me again my hand reached for his shirt and untucked it from his trousers, then slipped under it and slid up, stopping at his chest and staying firm in its spot. No matter how much I hated him—or at least claimed to—there was no denying the fact that I couldn’t resist him. He was so fucking hot. And God, it felt so good being pushed against the wall by him and his goddamned frame.

His head craned to the side and aligned with my neck once more as he kissed it, leaving marks in his path. My hand maintained its place on his chest, rubbing it up and down while he coaxed more groans from my lips.

I slipped my arm out of his shirt and brought my free hand up to the collar. It didn’t take long for him to notice what I was trying to do, and he pulled back to allow me to unbutton it. Slowly, I worked my way down, and I was able to feel his burning stare as I looked down at my hands. I gulped as I reached the last button; the shirt finally fell open, revealing the toned stomach underneath.

A chain hung from his neck, which was once covered by the suit. The tag on the chain sat in the valley of his chest, highlighting its definition and heightening my desire even more.

“Holy shit,” I muttered under my breath. It wasn’t the first time I’d ever seen him shirtless—that came with being around him so damn much. But it was the first time I had in years, and that meant that it wasn’t the same as it used to be. And boy, was it fucking different.

I pushed the sleeves down his arms, my eyes staying focused on his upper half and barely noticing the fabric as it hit the ground. My fingers wrapped around his biceps and my hands moved up and down slowly, feeling the warmth of his skin under my palms. “God, you’re big.”

“Yeah?” he asked and I nodded in response. “I know.”

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” I shook my head. “Still the same asshole. And still so damn full of yourself.”

He didn’t come up with a witty reply. Instead, he just kept looking down at me with that filthy grin plastered on his face and I shook my head. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “God, do you ever shut up?”

He reached up and grabbed the back of my head, then pulled me in, forcefully shoving his lips to mine again. By now, it was too late to back out—I already knew what I’d gotten into. No matter how irritating, how rude, how self-centered and dickless he acted, I wanted him. I wanted to keep feeling his hands all over me. To keep feeling his mouth on mine.

To fuck him.

And besides, how could I possibly have backed out when I was standing half-naked between him and the wall?

He moaned into my mouth as my hands roamed his bare back, feeling the hardness of his muscles for myself. The sound was admittedly gorgeous, and I knew it wasn’t hard for him to tell that I thought so when I felt that shit-eating grin spread across his lips against my own. So fucking cocky.

His hand moved downward and I felt his thumb pressing into the soft skin of my inner thigh as he grabbed it. He lifted my leg up in a silent demand to wrap my leg around his waist and I obliged, doing just that almost immediately.

I reached down between us and began to unbuckle his belt. It wasn’t exactly easy to get a firm hold on it while his hand slid up my thigh and rubbed it up and down, effectively distracting me and diverting my attention elsewhere. I finally was able to loosen it and pull it from his waist, but before I knew it his hands were under my legs, lifting me off of the floor.

The leather belt fell to the ground as I wrapped my arms around his neck, still kissing him fervently as ever. He laid me on my back, allowing me to slide up to the pillow and lie flat as he hovered over me. His eyes looked me up and down and he finally spoke, his voice in a rasp.

“God, Allison, you’re so hot.”

My eyes widened at the use of my full name. In all the time I’d known him he’d never done that. Not even in the times that we would get along. Fuck, I wanted him to do it again.

As he lowered himself down, his hand slipped between my legs, his fingers finally making contact with the damp surface of my underwear. He pushed the fabric aside with his fingers and slowly teased the now exposed area with them, dragging them up and down slowly.

“For someone that hates me so much,” he spoke with a low voice, “you’re pretty damn wet.”

Before I could reply, his finger was inside of me, moving at a torturously slow pace, as if he was barely moving it at all. And it was then that I remembered he had that godforsaken ring on; the cold touch of the metal hitting my skin was the reminder.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you wanted to fuck me.” A second finger joined the first as he kept up the crawling pace. “Don’t you think so, Allison?”

A faint moan fell from my lips and I nodded my head, unable to form the words to answer his clearly rhetorical question.

“Mm. That’s what I thought.”

He sped up the pace slightly, but was still denying me the gratification that I desperately needed. I reached for his arms and tightly grasped them as he continued to move his fingers. And I thought that ring was hot before…

“Trent,” I breathed, swallowing hard afterward. “Shit.”

He leaned down and kissed me again, muffling my noises with his mouth as his tongue slipped past my lips and tangled with mine. With each movement of his fingers his pace quickened ever so slightly. And with those movements came moans that spilled from my mouth, mixed with his name, their only purpose being to fuel his ever-growing ego.

He knew I was close. He knew he brought me there himself. And because I knew Trent, I knew that there wasn’t a chance in hell that it would be that easy.

Slowly, he pulled his fingers back and eventually out of me. He flipped his hand over and gently grazed my skin with his knuckles, the ringed finger slightly sticking out from the rest. A quiet whimper left my mouth.

“You like that?”

Of course, I fucking liked it—it was obvious. He just wanted to hear me say it. Under any other circumstance, I wouldn’t have dared to give him that satisfaction, but I knew there would be no benefits to it at that moment. Slowly, I nodded, squirming in his grasp. “Yes.”

Then he took his hand away.

I groaned at the loss of contact. “What…what the hell?”

He let out a laugh and brought his hand up, then used the same motion of grazing my skin with his knuckles, this time on my cheek. “Problem?”

“You know my problem,” I replied through gritted teeth, still holding onto him.

“I’m not sure I do.” He moved his hand to my chest, then slowly slid it down to my stomach, but stopped just before he reached my waist, leaving me on edge again. “What is it that you want, hm? Use your words.”

“God, you’re such a prick.”

A grin spread across his face and he hooked his fingers in my underwear. He tutted and shook his head. “Is that how you ask?”

That did me in.

That filthy fucking attitude of his. As much as I hated to admit it, I was weak. It turned me on. I couldn’t take anymore of the incessant teasing, the way he was doing just about anything to delay my pleasure. To make me squirm. So I gave into him, because I had nothing else to lose.

“Finish what you started, Trent,” I breathed, then reached behind his head and pulled him down to me.

I felt his lips on my neck again, but his fingers remained hooked in the fabric, still brushing against my skin. “You’re missing something.”

A soft moan left my lips again as I felt him flatten his hand under the fabric. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he wanted me to do, but now I was willing to.

“Please.”

The familiar sensation of his fingers—including the ringed one—filling me returned and I groaned as he pushed them in, grinning down at me like a bitch.

He knew exactly how to move them, how to get me right where he wanted me without allowing me to protest. How to bring me to the edge and make me want

to beg for more. The mere thought of letting him control me like that normally wouldn’t dare to cross my mind, yet here he was, fingers deep inside of me, draining every last drop of strength from my body.

Finally my body gave in and let go, his name spilling breathlessly from my mouth as I fell from my high. He kept the movement of his fingers up, his lips trailing kisses down my jaw. My hand wrapped around his neck and my nails dug into his skin, causing him to suck air in through his teeth.

Once my body stilled, he slid his fingers out, then brought his hand up to his face. He parted his lips, and one by one he licked each finger clean, starting with his index. His eyes never left mine as he did so, and the sight of it was enough to bring me back to where I was before. He hummed as he reached the last finger and leaned in closer to me.

“Shit,” I groaned. God, he was hot.

He chuckled to himself and brought his lips to my ear. “Mmm.”

I squirmed in his grasp as he pressed a feather-light kiss to the skin of my ear, then moved to my chest and began kissing a path down to my stomach. He hovered for a moment before continuing down again. He pressed another soft kiss to the waistband of my underwear and he continued to leave more atop the fabric as he moved down.

“Anyone ever done this to you before?”

I nodded my head sharply, looking down at his head between my thighs. Of course, I’d been gone down on. I wasn’t as innocent as I might’ve led on.

“Was it good?”

“No,” I quickly answered, shaking my head.

It was always the guys who claimed to be good that weren’t. And it wasn’t hard to distinguish the difference between good and bad when it came to that. It was just never great. But for some reason, I knew that he’d be the difference.

He nodded and used his fingers to slip the fabric down my legs, then moved back up and used his hands to pry my legs open. I felt his warm breath hitting my skin as he drew in closer, then his lips lightly touched the now exposed area.

God, was I right.

I’d never met a guy who could use his tongue like that. I didn’t even know where he learned to.

All I did know was that the same infuriating person I was practically forced to grow up with now had his face buried between my thighs. And it felt so fucking good.

“Fuck, Trent,” I moaned as my hand snaked into his hair, grabbing a fistful and tugging slightly on it.

A faint moan of appreciation left his mouth and his hands gently rubbed my thighs as his tongue flattened and put pressure down. He placed more feather-light kisses on my skin, sending chills through my body. His tongue parted my folds, sliding up and down slowly. As he moved, his nose grazed the surrounding skin and I moaned breathlessly at the feeling.

My hand pushed his head closer as my body desperately begged for more. My hips writhed against his face and he responded to my movements, squeezing my thighs and grinning against my skin. His lips closed in on my clit, his tongue circling around the flesh as he sucked gently. When he opened his mouth once more, his warm breath hit the wet skin and I groaned in anticipation.

If anyone ever asked me to name one thing Trent Frederic was good at, I never would’ve said giving head.

Until now.

My grip on his hair tightened and his hands slid up and around to my hips, then held them down firmly. My thighs closed, wrapping around his head from the removal of his hands. “Oh, God.”

No guy that I’d ever been with could make me as desperate as I was with him. I felt weaker than ever after giving into him so damn fast. I wanted to stop it—to push him the fuck away from me—but every nerve, every muscle, every bone in my body wanted to keep feeling him. I craved his touch, and there was no denying that fact.

He kissed another path up toward my waist, stopping at my hips and breathing softly.

“No, please,” I breathed, brushing his hair back with my hand.

But he already decided that he was going to stop. His lips disconnected from my skin and he sat up on his knees, looking directly down at me. His fingers reached for the zipper on his pants, pulling it down promptly and starting to slip them down his legs. I watched silently as he pulled them off, his underwear with them, and let them fall to the floor.

I gulped, my jaw clenched as my eyes caught sight of him. There was nothing left to separate us anymore. And I knew that we wouldn’t stay apart for much longer.

He pushed my legs apart and settled between them, breathing heavily as he looked down at me. Soon I felt the familiar pressure as he slowly slid the tip of his cock up and down my folds, the action prying a long, weak moan from my throat. I watched as his eyes began to close and he hissed, sucking air in through his teeth.

“T…Trent,” I sighed, sliding my hands up to his shoulders. “Please.”

He kept moving it against me, depriving me of the gratification I desperately needed. I was already tense—close—and he was making it infinitely worse. The fingers of one hand extended slightly upward and held the back of his head as I took a shaky breath.

“Trent, please, I can’t,” I stuttered, swallowing thickly, “—can’t wait anymore.”

Finally, my pleads were answered as I felt the pressure of him pushing into me. Fuck, he felt incredible. He leaned forward, putting his arms on either side of my head to hold himself up enough to hover over me. I kept my hands where they were, gripping tightly as he found the right position.

He began to move, slowly at first, allowing me to adjust to him. Gradually he picked up speed, his breaths growing heavier as he thrust his hips into mine. Long, soft moans fell from my lips as he moved.

The tag on his chain hung in front of my face, dangling back and forth, taunting me. He noticed my eyes following its path and took it between his teeth, closing his eyes and taking a long breath afterward. He sucked in air, a low groan sounding from his throat after and I tightened my grip on him in response.

“Oh, fuck,” I muttered, whimpering quietly as he lowered himself down toward me.

He opened his mouth and the tag fell. I felt the cold, condensated metal hit the skin of my collarbone as it landed. He moved his head to the side of mine, bringing his ringed hand up to my face and lowering his voice.

“Tell me, Allison,” he spoke quietly, his voice almost a rasp in my ear. His fingers rested below it, pulling my head toward him as his thumb pressed firmly into my cheek.

“Has anyone ever fucked you right?”

“Yes, but,” I slid my hands up and around to his back, my nails pressing into the skin. “Not like this…not in a long time.”

Almost every guy was the same—devoid of any passion whatsoever, just wanting a quick fuck; so why bother caring about how I feel? Selfish. All they did was take and had nothing to give.

But none of that was true with Trent.

He responded to me with a low chuckle and nodded his head teasingly. He continued to move against me, his breath warm on my neck. The distance between our bodies finally closed as he lowered his full weight down onto me, and a single arm wrapped around me, pulling me up to him by his flattened hand on my lower back.

I leaned up and kissed him again, allowing his tongue to slip past my lips again and he groaned softly. What I would give to hear that sound over and over again. Shit, every time he does it I fold.

“Fuck, Trent, I’m close.”

“I know,” he mumbled against my lips, taking a staggered breath. “I can feel it.”

His movements grew faster, driving me up the bed as I gripped him tightly, and it wasn’t long before I felt myself giving in and tightening around him. He hissed, sucking in a breath as I let out one of my own, the noise sounding as a moan of pleasure. His name spilled from my lips—more times than I’d like to admit—and I could feel him twitching inside, on the brink as well.

I reached up and scooped a handful of his hair into my hand, gripping it tight with my fingers. “Trent,” I swallowed, “please.”

Soon, he let out a heavy breath and warmth began to spread in my stomach, eliciting a deep sigh from my throat. The feeling of his release—the sensation of it coating my insides—was nothing short of incredible. I gripped him tighter, my body tense as his thrusts slowed.

“Fuck, Allison.”

The sound of my name flicked a switch in my brain, causing the relentless thoughts from before to resurface and whirl in my head.

He fucked you, the voice inside screamed. You’re supposed to hate him, and you let him fuck you.

But I didn’t care anymore; I was too busy relishing in the feeling of it all—the feeling of him. The way he was prying unstable breaths from my mouth and leaving my body feeling oh, so pleased.

And if that wasn’t enough to make me stop caring, maybe it was the burning feeling of him slowly dripping down my inner thigh.

After pulling himself out, his spent body remained atop mine, his chest visibly heaving above me as his head laid next to my own and his face found itself buried in my neck. He pressed a light kiss to the skin, then another, then a few more in the surrounding area.

“I don’t hate you, Trent.”

The words came out soft—he needed to know I was being sincere. It was the first time I’d ever said it out loud, but I knew that I meant it. It wasn’t until he left St. Louis that I realized the truth.

It’s been a long time since I’ve hated him.

His head lifted and he kissed me gently as his hand rose up to cup my cheek. “I know.”

My hand was still in his hair as I rolled my eyes and shook my head, gently scratching his with my nails. I let out a chuckle and sighed.

“Asshole.”

“I’m not that bad and you know it,” he rebutted teasingly.

A smile tugged at my lips. “Fine,” I gave in, “you’re right.”

There was a brief moment of silence after that. I took the time to look at him. To admire him. His eyes, his nose, his faint little smile—all of the things I refused to get to know before, yet they already had familiarity to me.

Before I could stop myself from saying another word, my mouth opened to speak.

“Stay with me.”

Without missing a beat, he nodded, then rolled off of me and faced me as he laid on his side. His arm snaked around my waist and pulled me in gently. By then, I’d already shifted onto my side as well, so my back pressed up against his chest once he pulled me in far enough.

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” he finally spoke softly into my ear.

Another sense of warmth—this time from emotion—flooded my stomach. I giggled softly and smiled gently at the words.

It was then that I decided that I was going to stop worrying about what happened and just let myself enjoy it. Enjoy him. I left my distress to be dealt with in the morning. I was satisfied as long as I got to spend this moment with him, free of regret. So I relaxed into him and let my eyes flutter shut as he pressed a kiss to the side of my head.

“Night, Allison,” he practically whispered into my ear.

But even through all of tonight, something still felt off to me. And it didn’t take much longer for me to figure out what.

“Call me Al.”

#fanfic #boston bruins #trent frederic #trent frederic fic #trent frederic smut #bruinshockey #hockey #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction

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rschlatt · 1 year ago

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“Your pretty fucking hot.”

(Jschaltt smut)

-your hanging with the chuckle sammy boys

-and as you do, end up talking about your love life

-which Jschaltt seems to take a interest in

“Well it’s not like i have never had sex charlie!” I exclaimed as he threw crude comments at me.

“Woah, that’s not what I’m saying, I’m sure you’ve had your time to shine.” He replies, knowing he is winding me up. Ted bursts out laughing while schlatt sits there drinking his beer grinning.

“You must get around though?” Jay asks smirking at me, i couldn’t tell if he was joking or genuinely wanted an answer. I roll my eyes while they all giggle.

“What makes you think that hm?” I tease back, laughing myself as I drink the booze.

“Well your pretty fucking hot.” He says casually, leaning back into the sofa. At the comment Charlie and ted can’t stop giggling to themselves, adding more to piss me off.

“Well then Jonathan, how’s your love life?” I ask, watching him as I lick my lips. There was no denying it, he looked great. He had taken his hat off so his hair looked gorgeous and not to mention the way he was sat. His legs wide open spreading himself on his sofa.

“well, I’d like to think I’m attractive, and I know I’m great in bed.” He mentions the last part quickly, sliding his hands through his hair, smirking obviously. His comment certainly wasn’t forgotten as we continued taking.

After that we had moved on quite quickly for what we had just been talking about. It was getting late, that didn’t mean I wanted to go though. I asked if anyone wanted a drink before getting one myself. The answer was yes. I grabbed some glasses a poured some coke and whiskey in for me and j, then grabbing some bottles for the other two.

“Thanks sweets.” Jay says as you pass him the glass, the nickname falling from his mouth like any other word, not knowing the effect it had on me.

The drinks were quickly finished and Charlie was talking about heading home soon, Ted agreeing. After saying our goodbyes it was not long before me and schlatt were alone.

“I’m assuming you want me gone.” I say grabbing my jumper from a chair while standing up. On my way to put my glass away he stopped me.

“ I mean you don’t have to, I’m having I nice time here with you, but of corse if you wanna go feel free.” He replies smiling awkwardly and you could see him visibly upset with himself for it.

“Yeah I can stay.” I say, throwing my stuff back down, going to sit. We talked for a little while, the alcohol wearing off made me realise how close we were. Sat on a small settee the two of us were cramped together talking into each others faces.

It was nice, being close to him, seeing how his body reacted when I said different things. Nothing was too deep, only stuff to do with twitch or games.

“Do you wanna get another drink?” He asks, I nod following him into his kitchen. I lift myself up onto the counter as he wanders back over with some glasses. I only realise how tall he is when he stands between my legs his head even higher then mine.

He pours something into the glasses, whatever it was it looked nice, he even grabbed some ice and fancy straws to top it off. We returned to our conversation about vidcon and I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger at his figure. Although he was only dressed in sweats and a hoodie it did make him look good.

“What are you looking at?” He asks chuckling and smirking at my face and I suddenly remember that we were having a conversation.

“Nothing, I, it’s nothing, is this new?” I say trying to cover up my mindless staring. He just laughs.

“What the pants of my cock?” I went red. I mean he wasn’t wrong. God he was a tease.

“Mhm well Jonathan, which do you think?” I ask returning his tone of voice right back to him. I see his eyes go wide at my response and lean in closer to me.

“I think I have a idea.” He says, before gently grabbing my chin and pulling my lips towards him. He kissed hard, biting and sucking my mouth as the kiss deepened.

“ I think your idea might be right.” I grin as I go back to his lips, this time nibbling the edge of his bottom lip with my teeth. He groaned, causing my wrap around his neck to be tighter. He then grabbed my hips pulling them forward to meet his. I automatically put my legs around his waist feeling him grind up onto my hips while stroking down my back made me let out a short moan.

He swiftly pulls his jumper and T-shirt of revealing his toned chest. It’s not like I’d never seen him shirtless before, but my god seeing him like this without a top on was miles hotter.

“You wanna go to my room?” He asks and I quickly nod. He lifts my hips and carries my down to his bedroom as I kiss down his neck. He carefully puts me down hovering above me while he roughly unbuttons my jeans causing me to whimper at his touch. I then pull my top off, and he kisses down my neck and to my chest, licking and sucking in different places. He still moved his hips against mine, grinding and rubbing his dick against me.

“Please, jay.” I moan as I grab at his joggers, and he pulls them off whispering into my ear.

“ yeah, what do you want?” I could feel him smirking as he undid my bra.

“Fuck, Jonathan, I need you.” Scratching at his back, he sticks a finger between my panties, sliding into my slick and hitting the spot. Circling my clit with his thumb he pushes another into your hole, constantly edging me closer.

“Your so wet for me baby, Iv wanted you for so long.” I can’t help but whimper at that. He removes his hand and takes of him underwear, lining up with my entrance.

We both moan and I hear him bottoming out as he starts moving. Slowly at first but he starts picking his pace up. He’s hitting ever right spot, making me feel so full and so pleasured.

“god jay im so close.” I feel myself clenching around him as he goes harder and deeper.

“Me too sweets.” He whimpers continuously thrusting into you. After one last breath, we both finish and he pulls out. He kisses me sweetly catching his breath.

“That was fun.” I giggle hearing him sigh. He cuddled up to me whispering some nonsense into my ear as he laughs.

Hello so this was my first fic. It’s kinda shit and shot but oh well. 🤗

#jschlatt #jschlatt smut #chuckle sandwich #chuckle sammy #charlie slimecicle #ted nivison

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heyidkyay · 1 year ago

Text

I guess I’ll take this pain, instead of your name |

Part Nineteen

A/n: Hi! I know I've kept you waiting a while😅 and for that I'm sorry!! But thank you to all of those who've been patient with meee, this part just continues on from where we left off with Matty and G, but it spirals... a lot. It shifts back to the reader's pov soon enough though and we get to see an old character!:) SO hopefully you enjoy it💕

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: um, I hate this part because I always feel like I forget something, but much like the other 18 parts (?!) there is a lot of swearing, also some talk about shitting? uhhh, big emotions too, touches ever so slightly on appearance but not much... and yeah reckon that's about it?

Masterlist

(Matty’s POV again!)

Matty: Everything ok there?

Ross: Thought you were out on the pull why tf are you txting me? Ross: But we're good, she passed out half hour ago

*picture*

Matty: Alright, m glad Matty: Did she seem fine to u?

Ross: Bit teary but then she scoffed some chocolate and we finished off the Princess Diaries

Matty: Teary? She was crying??

Ross: 🙄 She’s fine Matty, just stressed I reckon Ross: Anyway aren’t you usually in the back of a cab about now?

Matty: Haha. Matty: Things didn’t turn out that way

Ross: ?

Matty: George is here

Ross: Fuck

Matty: Yeah exactly what I said mate

Ross: Still, pull up your big boy pants and have it out with him yeah? Ross: He’s your best mate

Matty: He’s also a massive prick

Ross: This coming from you?

Matty: Ur a prick too

Ross: Relax mate, you got this Ross: It’s just George

Matty glanced up from his phone to stare into the mirror, one of those tiny ones you often found in bathrooms at dingy dive bars or your local. Ross was right though, he needed to relax. Take a quick breather and sort this shit out with George before it all got any worse. They had a fucking album to finish. Fans to please.

He tugged a hand through his rapidly deflating curls and removed any thought of him getting his end away tonight from his head, before he forced himself back out into the dreary pub. He hadn’t been gone very long, but seemingly enough time had passed for one of the boys to have brought over another round. He avoided both sets of their eyes when he fell back into the booth, wishing he’d gone out for a smoke instead of having taken a piss.

It was Adam, clearing his throat, that had his head raising and Matty allowed his gaze to diver between the tables only two other occupants. He released a heavy sigh, “Let’s just get it over with, yeah? Can’t promise I won’t fly off the handle, but I’ll try my best not to call you an absolute arse every time you act like one.”

George visibly fought to bite his tongue at his words and Matty found he was rather glad to have the upper hand here. Maybe things wouldn’t end up so sour after all, and if shit did eventually hit the fan then at least he could get a laugh out of it. Win, win, eh?

“Matty…” Hann chided in gruff warning, and so he huffed then ultimately nodded towards the drummer, letting George take the lead.

— (and we’re back!)

The sound of hushed voices stirred me from my dreamless sleep and I sat up a tad to glance around the room, rubbing at my tired eyes when I realised I’d fallen asleep on the settee. It must’ve been quite late because when I shuffled slightly, I found that the tv had since been switched off and the lamp lights dimmed. It was then, as the groggy confusion cleared, that the faint whispers caught my attention again.

“What, and that’s it? You just forgive him then?”

My brow furrowed at Ross’s deep voice, he didn’t sound as confused as his questions made him out to be, though I did have to strain quite a bit to hear him.

“I just- I really don’t know, man.”

I blinked at Matty’s unexpected reply, wondering how long he’d been back. I chanced a glance over towards the far wall, where the clock-face stared back at me, it’s metal hands told me it was almost nearing two.

It seemed that the pair of them had chosen to hide out in the kitchen in hopes not to disturb me, the hazing light beneath the door a dead giveaway.

“I don’t forgive him. At least, not that easily. But, I think I understand? Like I can see his side of things.”

There was a pause then, and I didn’t know if it was down to the fact that I’d only just woken up but I felt so disoriented by their entire conversation, reeling over just who they were talking about.

“How did you leave things?” Ross asked him, and I heard Matty sigh.

“Told him I needed to wrap my head ‘round it.”

Ross hummed just as I rubbed at my bleary eyes, forehead pinched between my brows.

“And, what about her?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, is he ever gonna let her back in? Tell her all this shit?” Ross stressed his second question but was met with a resounding silence, the type Matty only gave when he was lost in his own head.

“I really don’t know.”

For some stupid reason, I felt my heart drop.

—

Matty was perched by the kitchen’s island, nursing a cup of tea, when I found him the next morning. He lifted his head when he heard my approach and we shared a tiny smile.

“Mornin’. How’d you sleep?” He asked me as I moved towards the fridge, grabbing the milk I often favoured before I trailed my way over to where his fancy kettle resided.

“Alright, just wondering how I made it up all those stairs last night.” I said in return. The whole house felt quiet, only the tweeting sound of the neighbouring sparrows could be heard before I set the kettle to boil.

“Ross.” Matty answered with a huffed chuckle, he pushed the tin of teabags across the counter when he saw me search for it.

I hummed, that made the most sense. “Dunno how I didn’t feel that.”

“Probably all those pain killers, darling. Actually, you fancy sharing a few? My heads banging.”

I snorted softly, chucking him the pack of paracetamol he typically kept in a cabinet nearby when I went to retrieve a teaspoon. “Stick to those. You’ll thank me for it when you can still shit normally.”

Matty grimaced, but popped two from its plastic packaging. “Ever heard of oversharing?”

With a lazy shrug, I disposed of the teabag and slotted the milk carton back into the fridge before I took a seat beside him. The two of us just gazed out of the window whilst we sipped sporadically.

“So then, how was your big night back out on the town?” I asked him, eyes focused on the blue skies that had casted overhead, mind stuck on the conversation that I might’ve dreamt up last night.

He gave a noncommittal sound in reply and so I raised a brow at him from over the rim of my steaming mug.

“That bad?”

“Unexpected would be the better term.”

I hummed again, taking a small sip. “How so?”

Matty worked his jaw and avoided my eye by staring into his muddy brew. I nudged his side lightly.

“Come on, can’t tease me with a good story and not spill.”

His lips quirked a tad and so I kicked up my feet to cross my legs beneath me as I turned to settle in and listen. Knowing he’d soon tell.

“Just,” Matty’s brown eyes flittered over towards me briefly before they skittered away again, I narrowed my own. “A lot happened,” He added vaguely, “Didn’t end up doing much.”

“Oh, leave off. The great Healy makes his way back out onto the scene and leaves without a sexscapade to tell or a near brawl?”

I was met with the wrinkled face of a disturbed looking Matty. “Sexscapade?”

I couldn’t help my laughter.

“Come on, dish. I just know something went down.” I pestered him, nudging his elbow with my knuckle and retreating before he could swat me away.

Matty rolled his eyes at the motion, but I watched his chest rise from beneath the oversized hoodie he’d thrown on as he drew in a large breath.

He was definitely withholding information, you could see it in the way his fingers tapped rhythmically against the side of his mug and I looked up just in time to catch him searching my face.

For a brief moment I felt a little insecure, wondering what he saw. If it was still the same girl he’d known since we were little kids out on our bikes, or the outrageously fit friend he’d never had a chance with during the early stages of our twenties- or maybe even the person I’d been both before and after the accident.

I’d changed an awful lot.

“You’re worrying me, Matty. What is it?” I questioned instead of voicing any of that, a tad bit desperate to get him to focus on anything else. “Did something actually happen?”

Matty shook his head at my concern then paused, eyes skittering around the place again before he shrugged. “Hann brought George along, didn’t he.”

Ah.

A deafening quiet followed that admission as I took it in and digested it.

I swallowed thickly and then nodded at him, “Right. Thought you’d seen him though, like in the studio and that… Shouldn’t’ve felt too weird, no?”

Matty chewed on his bottom lip. “Met up at this pub, meant to be the two of us. Just, didn’t expect Hann to drag him along too. Studio time’s been… strained, so I figured I could let loose a bit. But then… yeah, he showed his face and the whole night went tits up.”

I nodded. I hadn’t heard much about the band rehearsals to be honest, just that things were progressing slowly, but to hear that they’d been difficult because of where George and I now stood, was a tough pill to swallow.

“So what, you two argued then?”

He shrugged at me again, spinning his half-empty mug about the countertop which must’ve been lukewarm at best by now.

“I was fuming. Even told Hann so. But, I stuck around… he wanted me to hear him out.”

I frowned at that. “Hear him out?”

Matty licked at the corner of his mouth, and I saw the visible bags which sat beneath his tired eyes. I silently questioned whether he’d even slept since getting in.

“He wanted to talk, alright? Wanted me to hear his side of things, to hash things out so that we could get this album finished.”

I scoffed, almost angry now. “Fuck him! What about me? I spent a whole year trying to work out what happened with us! I almost died trying to find out what the fuck was up with him!”

Matty winced at that.

“But no, any body fucking else and he’ll let you know willingly! Are you actually being for fucking real?”

I doubt Matty even had an actual answer to give me then but I didn’t give him the chance to take another breath. Too fired up, hurt by the mere idea of George telling anyone but me anything.

I pushed up out of the barstool I’d taken seat on and fought back the sudden aching in my throat. “Me! The only person he should be fucking telling anything at all is me, Matty!”

“I know-”

I cut him off again, pacing back and forth around the island now. “I mean, what the fuck? Is he being serious? Oh, let me just tell Matty about all this sad shit I’ve been going through… about how much of a twat I’ve been this last year, and how sorry I am for being a massive knob-head… maybe then he’ll feel bad enough for me that we can finally finish off this shitty album we’ve been working on!”

Matty made a face, either at my bad impersonation of the bellend he’d dubbed his drummer, or for calling the current album he was working on shit. I didn’t care.

“Look I know you’re ticked off but-”

“But nothing, Matty. What did he even tell you? ‘Cause I’d honestly love to know. Seeing as it almost cost me my life and fucked me for the rest of it.”

Matty looked torn. Small almost, as I stared him down. A striking contrast to his typical outlandish demeanour. So striking in fact, it stopped me short.

“You know what? I don’t even care. I can’t do this.” I said defeatedly, dumping what little remained of my tea into the sink and doing a complete 180.

“Where’re you going?” I heard Matty call out after me, but I didn’t bother to offer him a reply as I stormed my way down the hallway. I pulled on the nearest pair of trainers I had to the front door, as well as the massive parka Matty had slung over the bar of the banister, and threw open the front door. He chased after me. “Y/n, what the fuck?”

“I’m going out.”

“I can fucking well see that!” Matty shouted from behind me, fumbling with his heavy boots by the stairs as I made my way down the paved drive. “At least wait for me, yeah?”

“I’m going out alone, Matty.” I reiterated tonelessly, buzzing the front gate a couple times for it to open.

“Y/n! Don’t be a prat, just wait up and we can go together. Yeah?”

I slammed the large gate shut behind me and caught sight of him hastily patting down his pockets, more than likely looking for his house keys.

“Matty,” I sighed, more numb than angry now, “Please, just…”

He stopped short on the front step, face frantic with a single boot on his foot and one arm slung in the wrong end of a padded puffer jacket.

“Please.” I repeated, voice hoarse and strained by the many emotions I felt.

His expression seemed to fall slack then and he nodded to me mutely. The length of driveway stood between us felt like an ocean in that next moment, but it also allowed me to finally breathe without the suffocating guilt that seemed to drown me wherever I went.

I took one step back, and then two. Then I was walking away from the confines of Matty’s house, the same place that had done nothing but welcome me, feeling freer than I had done in weeks. Months even.

Thoughts of betrayal and trust, anger and hurt, then humiliation, all of it just swimming in my veins. All of it swarming beneath the surface, buzzing under my skin.

I walked for a while. Long enough for my ribs to ache and my lungs to burn.

But I didn’t dare turn back, not yet.

My mind was finally empty. The nippy air that kissed my skin wrapped itself around me like a layer of armour, shielding me from what little else could rip me apart. And I revelled in that.

I only stopped when I wandered upon a familiar street and peered down it towards an even more familiar shop sign. Almost on autopilot my feet made their way towards it, trailing past cracks in the pavement and the many weeds which crawled out by the curb, before they shuffled over the threshold.

“Y/n, love? Is that you?”

—

I sat in a similar position to the one I’d been in earlier in Matty’s kitchen, only now I was propped up against a register with a soothing cup of camomile in hand.

Delia was stood beside me, chopping away at flower stems, humming an old tune. She’d been overjoyed to see me, only having stopped in to visit me a handful of times since the accident.

She’d ushered me about the shop, showing me what was new whilst simultaneously scolding me for having turned up out of the blue when I should’ve been resting. But she made me feel at home all the same, almost like nothing was awry, like nothing had changed.

But it had. I knew it. And she knew it too.

I felt it in the twinge my ribs gave every time I breathed, and she saw it in the gruesome tell of my sad smile.

“Can you still love someone who’s really hurt you?” I asked her after a prolonged pause, taking up the silence that had since settled between us.

Delia lulled momentarily before she begun snipping again.

“Love isn’t something we can control, sweetheart. It comes, and it goes. It’s a strange thing but it’s what keeps us alive, isn’t it? If it didn’t hurt, dear, then it wasn’t real.”

I thought on it, staring blankly ahead.

“So, we just forgive them then? Forget that they hurt us?”

“No, not always. Sometimes the people we love… they hurt too. Only they hide all that hurt behind closed doors. Behind a mask even. But just because they hurt, it doesn’t excuse their actions. Only we get to decide who we let into our lives, who we forgive, who we forget…”

I lingered on that statement for a second, but then she spoke up again.

“Is this about that boy?”

I hummed to voice my confusion and looked over at her with a quirked brow.

“That boy of yours. Tall, quiet. George I think he said his name was.”

My wide eyes stayed trained on her, even whilst she continued to arrange her bouquet. If Delia knew the weight her words had on me she didn’t let it show.

“He came in often, kept me company when you were in the hospital. Didn’t say much, just worked. Trimmed and watered, I even taught him to wrap. Was quite the natural, actually. But I only let him in after I remembered he’d visited with your Matty, and that one other fella with the beard, the night everything happened.”

She looked at me then. Must’ve seen the tears welling in my eyes because she took my hand, squeezed it tight.

“We’re all human, love. We all hurt, and we all make mistakes. We love. We lose. But, it is ultimately up to us on who we allow in and out of our lives. Who we give second and third chances to. Everyone has their reasons, their own demons. Even those closest to us. But it’s what they do afterwards that counts. How they make it up.”

I didn’t offer her a reply, too lost in my own multitude of thoughts, but continued to sort through the white and red tulips she had laid out. We stayed like that for a while until the bell over the shopfront jingled and I glanced up to find a familiar head of curls stood there.

Delia shot me a knowing smile when I turned towards her in surprise, she simply jilted her head over at the door like she’d been expecting him. “You should be getting home. Rest up and think on what we spoke about, yes?”

I nodded thoughtlessly and allowed her to rope me into a warm hug, wrapping an arm around her middle when I found the strength. We parted ways and there Matty was, patiently waiting for me even after the way I’d left him.

I wanted to resent him a little for that, for always being there, for never allowing me to push him away. But I couldn’t. Not when he took my hand in his.

He said something to Delia as we left and let the door rattle behind us before he led me up the hilly street. It was quiet out, the lunch time rush had been and gone and it was nearing closer to the time most schools let out. I wondered how long we had until he was spotted.

We didn’t speak as we made our way back, his hand in mine, his eyes glancing over towards me every few steps even when I tried to conceal the dampness that clung to the tops of my cheeks.

I’d never been much of a crier. Or at least I’d like to claim as much, but this last year… these last couple of months had been…

I don’t reckon there was a word for it.

I just felt so defeated. Lost.

All I wanted was answers.

All I needed was to be somebody else.

Part twenty>

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raspberrysunshinebby · 2 years ago

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Two Choices

Chapter 9

Pairing: Eris x reader x Azriel (not rlly)

Summary: The future wife of Eris never cared much for mating bonds, she had spent years in love with Eris and when Beron finally died they could be together. He has full intention to make his love into his High Lady until at a party meant to celebrate Eris’ reign the girl finds herself finding her mate, Azriel.

Warnings: none in this chapter.

A/N: Sorry this literally took forever, I had the biggest writers block on this and was working on other stories. Also with my taglist please comment under this post if I missed you because my doc for it got messed up.

Word Count: 2677

Leaving in the Night wasn’t an option for us, instead opting to leave in the morning when fewer people would be awake. Many fae and other creatures were nocturnal in this area apparently.

The girl with an Afro, whose name I learned was Fern, gave me some extra clothes. A outfit with black pants, a slight corset, and a white top, I was also given a pair of boots so it’d be easier to travel. It sort of reminded me of what I’d wear when my brothers would take me hunting with them, except I wouldn’t wear so tight since that wasn’t an Autumn Court thing.

Once everyone else was set to go we went off, when traveling I noticed how they kept Corbin and me at the front most likely to keep an eye on us. I found this kind of funny when I was paying them, I didn’t say anything though, and kept walking. I ended up also taking this opportunity to get to know Corbin, when we traveled alone we didn’t get a chance to really talk. More bonding over us both doing our best to get out of the Night Court without dying or getting brought back.

“I was already planning on leaving,” Corbin told me, “I have friends in The Court of Nightmares, ones who are slaves basically. They're not by name but based on how they're treated, they’re slaves. High Lord Rhysand is so content on just leaving The Court of Nightmares alone, he thinks everyone in there is a monster, but they're not. I already helped my friends get out, I’m gonna meet them in the Summer Court.”

“Why did you want to help me then?” I asked, softly.

“High Lord Rhysand pisses me off, I couldn’t let what happened to my mother happen to someone else while Rhysand stood there.”

“What about High Lady Feyre? Why doesn’t she do anything?” I questioned, I didn’t get to talk or really learn about anyone in the Night Court during my time there, too consumed with what was going on already with Azriel.

“She barely learned how to read two years ago, I don't blame her for that but she’s not educated enough to be a High Lady. So that’s why she’s not involved in any of the Court affairs. She’s honestly more of a consort than a High Lady. Nothing wrong with being a consort but still.”

He paused for a moment before speaking, “Oh yea there's also the Illyrian camps, how Rhysand hasn’t done anything to truly fix it is beyond me.”

“All he does is send Cassian to train some female Illyrians every once in a while then leave.” I heard the Illyrian girl, Wren, say bitterly.

“I don't wanna overstep, but did you run away from one?” I asked her.

“Yes.” That was all she said, I wanted to ask for more information but she looked angry at the mere mention of it, so I didn’t.

We walked for a while more until we passed the border, the relief that hit my chest after we did was intense. I looked toward Corbin who gave me a smile and a nod before we continued. Corbin would later tell me how there was a slight skip in my step.

We wanted to stay as far away from people as possible after we got out of the mountains, which would take hours for us to get through, so we opted to camp in a cave, by the exit of the mountains, we found for a while until it hit nightfall and not many would be awake. A fire in the camp we made kept us warm from the cool air of the cave while many of us napped or just rested to savor the energy for the trip.

I sat on a rock that stood by the fire, well one I moved to be a seat by the fire while staring at the beautiful scenery of the Day Court. The day court was so bright, filled with so many blues and greens a part of me never thought I’d see outside of Valeris again; I watched the clouds with an empty mind until I heard someone sit on the ground on the other side of the fire. I looked to see Blythe sitting on the other side, warming up.

Finally able to get a good look at his face I realized that he wasn’t ugly, he was actually quite attractive. Blythe was a man with a hard face, mean-looking face, and short brown hair that didn’t cover his cyan eyes and I also noticed like Fern, his ears were down-pointed. He noticed me analyzing his face and looked toward me.

“What is it?” He asked me.

“Nothing,” I replied, “I just hadn’t gotten a good look at your face, you didn’t look how you did in my mind.”

“Did you think I was ugly?” He asked.

“Why would I think you were ugly?” I replied fast.

He smirked, “You thought I was ugly.” He grabbed a stick to play with the fire.

“Okay I didn’t think you were ugly, I just didn’t have a good look at your face and I wasn’t sure whether or not you were,” I tried to think of a word to say, “were ugly?”

He snickered at that, “So you thought I was gonna be ugly?”

I rolled my eyes at him, causing a chuckle out of him before he spoke, “Catch this.”

I opened my hands to catch whatever he was going to throw at me before thinking and quickly caught something wrapped in linen. I opened the linen to find a big piece of bread that looked like it was baked in herbs. I looked up to him, “You're skinny,” He said “You need to get some meat on your bones. We’ll have a proper meal tonight when we go out, but for now just have some bread.”

I nodded to him in a thank you before eating, as my brother had once said ‘she looks skinny and dead’. I really needed to gain weight, especially if I wanted to be able to walk all the way to the Winter Court. I needed to be healthy enough to do it.

I ate my bread pretty quickly, I didn’t realize how hungry I actually was, with me chewing on food Blythe and I sat in silence, well until we heard a crashing in a deep part of the cave.

Blythe and I quickly sat up from our spots, worried of what the commotion could be. Blythe reached over to where the others napped to wake them up, I woke up Corbin before noticing that the man with the pretty face wasn’t here.

“Where’s Auden?” I heard Fern ask, I shrugged my shoulders at her, unsure as well.

The little boy, Oliver, got up quickly from his spot on the floor, drawing his sword in the process and peering into the darkness in the cave.

“I think its best we find Auden and then leave,” Corbin said, still a little groggy, “It’ll be nightfall soon so we might as well leave early.”

“Yea but we need to find Auden!” Wren whispered. You could see it on her face that she was worried.

Oliver continued peering down the cave looking for a sign of disturbance. Corbin followed behind him, peering on the other side of the cave wall with a knife at his hand, where he got said knife I didn’t ask.

“Do you know how to fight?” Wren asked me.

My brothers had taught me little, just enough to defend myself when I was younger, but being the childhood champion of the Heir to the Autumn Court made it so that Silas’s parenting on me was closely watch in order to not ‘infect’ his son, Eris and I once overheard Beron say that to my brother. We both walked away in disgust.

I shook my head, “A little, but not really.”

Wren placed a knife in my hand, “If whatever that is gets close to you, stab it. Simple isn’t it?”

I nodded to her, “Simple.”

We waited, not even breaths were heard as we waited. Eventually after a minute we heard a gargle-like noise from deep inside it, “We need to leave.” I heard Blythe say.

“No.” Wren said firmly, “Not without Auden.”

“What without me?” I heard a voice behind me, I turned to see Auden with his blonde hair and skinny figure standing there, completely fine.

I looked to see Wren blinking before grabbing Oliver by his shoulder, Oliver putting away his sword as whatever it was growled down the cave. I looked to Blythe to see him motioning towards the entrance of the cave. I moved to grab Corbin’s wrist before following Blythe out of the cave, the others following before him.

I did my best to move as swiftly as I could before leaping out of the cave with the others, holding onto our blankets and pillows that we silently decided to put back into our packs after we got away from whatever that thing was. We continued to run for a few miles, just in case.

We finally stopped near a clearing and that was the spot we’d decided to put our things back away, Wren and Fern laughing together about how dumb that situation was while I helped Corbin fold up his blanket.

“Auden. What were you doing away from us?” I heard Blythe ask Auden. I tried not to look like I was listening to the conversation but it was hard not to. “I was gonna go hunting, so we didn’t have to worry about dinner and just keep moving.”

I heard Blythe sigh, “You can't run off like that, we thought whatever was in there took you!” He raised his voice.

Now it was even weirder listening to this conversation, but at least I knew I wasn’t the only one listening with everyone else’s heads perked up as they all listened to the conversation.

Blythe looked at us all, sighed, then grabbed Auden by the shoulder. “We’ll be continuing this conversation, Wren will go find a restaurant for us to eat.”

Wren nodded before taking off flying to go find a town and restaurant, especially one that can feed our group.

The rest of us kind of sat around while we waited, Oliver played with his sword clearly just a bored child. Corbin and I layed around on the ground and Fern took some things out of her bag to put in her hair.

It was around ten minutes when Auden finally came back without Blythe, he looked embarrassed and defeated as he sat on the ground next to Corbin.

“Where's Blythe?” I asked, sitting myself up.

It took Auden a second, “Blythe’s mad, he yelled at me for ten minutes straight before sending me off.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have ran off.” I heard Fern say, “Blythe gets worried sick when he doesn’t know where we are, you know that Auden.”

I stood up from my spot, “Where's the snacks?” I asked Fern, she pointed toward a bag on the floor.

I looked through the bag to find some basic snacks and decided to grab some bread, cheese, and some meat. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was but I grabbed it anyway. I wrapped all of them in some spare linen before walking towards where I saw Auden come from, Fern shouting behind me to be careful and not die.

I followed a dirt path on the ground that led to a river, it was connected to a waterfall and had huge rocks around it, and Blythe sat on the ground ontop of a rock by the river, he looked to be playing with something in his hand. As I walked closer I realized it was a knife that he swung in it, the knife danced around his fingers as he didn’t even notice me approaching him.

“Blythe?” I said in my best soft voice, I didn’t stand too close behind him just enough to make sure he heard me. He put his knife back into its holder before turning to me, “What is it?” He said giving me a look.

With how angry he seemed it made me feel some anxiety, I made an awkward smile before lifting up the items I’d brought. “I have snacks.” I said, he nodded to me.

“Why?” He asked, “Wren is looking for a restaurant right now.”

I shrugged my shoulders, “Yea but who know how long that’ll be, plus the wait time and stuff its gonna be a little bit and I haven’t seen you eat much.” I pushed my arm out toward him, “Here.”

He grabbed the food from me, he turned back to use his knife to cut open the bread to make a sandwich, I was preparing myself to leave thinking Blythe wanted to be left alone. I moved my hands behind my back and began walking to join the rest of the group before Blythe spoke up, “Sit.” I looked over to see him patting a spot next to him on the rock.

I turned back around to follow his instruction, as I sat next to him I noticed he was making two sandwiches, he stopped making the second one to pass the first to me. Blythe simply gave me a nod before continuing to make his own. It didn’t take long to make the sandwich, but I still waitied until Blythe was done and he’d began eating before I began eating my own.

Blythe and I didn’t speak after this, only enjoying nature and basking in the silence as we ate together. I felt awkward at first before I began to enjoy it, I’d never felt a quiet presence with anyone before, I’d always felt a little pressured to always be talking so never turns awkward. I’d never even been fully quiet with Eris or Azriel, only quiet when I was mad at Azriel or having a breakdown caused by him and only quiet when Eris had told me to, which wasn’t often, I swear it was like twice.

I’d lost count of how long we’d been there, even quiet after we’d finished eating. My knees were close to my chest a Blythe and I watched the river flow. I quickly realized how much I enjoyed the smell of dirt and grass, it felt like it was all around me at the moment. I realized how for the first time in months, I was relaxed. I was away from the Night Court, I was getting farther and farther away from Azriel and I was relaxed.

I looked over when a noise come out behind us, I saw Oliver coming to approach us, Blythe looked behind us as well as we waited for Oliver to talk.

“Wren sent me to tell you guys to come back, she found a restaurant to eat at.” Oliver said, Blythe nodded to him before Oliver left to go back to the others.

I jumped off the rock and whipped myself off from the dirt on it, then whipped my hands together before grabbing the remnants of the food that we’d already wrapped up then I started to walk back.

“Y/N” I heard Blythe say from behind me, I looked over to see Blythe standing there, “I apologize for kidnapping you and Corbin.”

I shrugged at him, “Hey it happens, plus your getting a lot of money out of it.”

“Did you seriously just say, ‘hey it happens’?” Blythe said.

“I mean most of my brothers have been kidnapped, it was bound to happen to me.”

Blythe’s face looked shocked, “That’s a story your telling me at dinner.”

I laughed before moving to continue walking, still snickering at the fact of Blythe being surprised at my brothers being kidnapped, which I lied about cause I thought it was funny and now I wanted to see how long I could keep the lie up before he meet my brothers.

#acotar #acotar x reader #Eris #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris x reader #Azriel #azriel x reader

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vincess-princess · 1 year ago

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as we were falling

formerly untitled

ch. 3

a/n: do you like the title? idk if this idea is going anywhere but i felt bad leaving it nameless

warnings: take a wild guess (violence, piss mention)

word count: 1777

“It’s full,” Tommy said, plopping down onto Nikki’s mattress. “Heaping, even.”

“Damn it.” Nikki squeezed his knees tighter, agony on his face. “When are they gonna empty it? I’m dying here, man.”

“They usually do it after breakfast.”

“Breakfast was hours ago. Any chance they’re gonna do it today?”

“Eh…”

“So no.”

“Yeah,” Tommy sighed. One bucket for twenty captives definitely wasn’t enough, even when emptied regularly, and when it wasn’t… things got stinky. Nikki, still chained to the wall (Tommy couldn’t look at the red stripe of irritated skin underneath the ring of the handcuff without shuddering), couldn’t even make trips there, so the bucket instead made trips to him – with Tommy’s help.

Now, though, he couldn’t risk lifting it without splashing the contents all across the floor. The room already smelled worse than an underground bar toilet, and Tommy thought nothing could beat that. The first assumption his new life proved wrong, he thought grimly.

“We’re already drowning in shit, and now they decide to make it literal,” Nikki grumbled. “God, I’d love to splash it on their faces. Shower them in shit. Unite them with their kind, so to say.”

For a second Tommy indulged himself on imagining the guards’ faces if it happened. Or, rather, their shrieking and yelling – they couldn’t see their faces behind the helmets, after all. It was no great loss – helped somewhat, even. It made it easier to believe that those were some aliens, evil minions, androids, whatever – not real, regular people like them and Nikki for whom what they were doing was a job just as much as cleaning tables in a café was for Tommy. They did it for a living, probably had families they came home to. Did they ever tell them stories from work? “So this one captive today threw up on the boots of my buddy Jackson and we electrocuted her for fifteen seconds for that”?

“Hey?” he heard Nikki’s voice. Then he snapped his fingers in front of Tommy’s face. “Ground control to major Tom. Can you hear me?”

Tommy slapped his hand away. “Don’t interrupt me. I am speaking that into existence.”

Nikki huffed. “Oh, I’m sorry, master wizard. Of course, keep on weaving your spells. I’ll be here, peeing my pants quietly.”

“Well, what else can I do?” Tommy threw his hands up. “I’m already running back and forth with this bucket for Your Majesty to shit in three times a day. You could show a little gratitude.”

“I’m very grateful,” Nikki said seriously, but the force with which he pressed his hand to his chest gave out a taunt. “It doesn’t help my problem, though.”

“I’m not giving you my cup.”

“I wasn’t even thinking of that, but now that you mentioned it…” Nikki began eyeing Tommy’s cup hungrily. Tommy moved it farther back so that Nikki couldn’t reach it.

“You have no soul.” Nikki crossed his arms on his chest, but didn’t really pull off the offended face, only prompting Tommy to laugh. “You cruel, cruel bastard. What am I to do? Piss on the floor? Or hold it in and explode from too much pee?”

“You know,” Tommy looked at the floor with renewed interest, “it’s already dirty… wouldn’t hurt much.”

Nikki threw his head back and laughed. “We really getting desperate here, aren’t we? By the way,” he suddenly changed the topic, “when’s dinner?”

“Not sure,” Tommy said, confused. “It’s hard to track time here, you know. But… I’d say, in about half an hour.”

“Great. It won’t dry off by then.” Nikki said, whipped out his dick and peed right into the passage between the two rows of mattresses. “They always pass through here,” he grinned, shoved his dick back into his pants and returned to his place. Tommy and a dozen other captives watched the urine lazily flowing along the passage.

Tommy turned to Nikki and was met with a beaming smile.

“You really have no limits, man,” he said.

“The sky is the limit,” Nikki declared pompously. “And also it was the only place I could reach. But, as they say, two birds with one stone! They’ll have to walk along the passage, there’s not enough space between mattresses for the trolley. And my bladder isn’t tearing apart. I say, we’ve got a good deal.”

Thousands of objections began running through Tommy’s head until they became background noise. Yes, it will get their asses kicked, but it’s not like it hadn’t happened before. Besides, he wanted to hear the guards’ screams when they realized what they were walking on. Maybe it will get them to empty the bucket in time, too.

“Yeah,” Tommy grinned back. “Maybe it will teach them a lesson.”

Over the next half an hour three captives tried to demand they wipe the piss down, but to no avail. Nikki smiled at them with his brand smile – all sharp teeth and a crazy gleam in his eyes – and Tommy offered them to do it themselves if they disliked it so much, which none of them rushed to do. The urine persisted until the guards arrived with a trolley full of nutrient paste.

As expected, they didn’t look down. As expected, they heard the splash when it was already too late.

“Who the hell spilled water here?” one of the guards looked around the room. Everybody averted their gazes. “One of us could slip on that! If that happens again we’ll remove the washbowl and ration your water too!”

“Guys,” another said, “is it just me or does it smell like piss in here?”

Tommy and Nikki exchanged looks. It was increasingly hard not to laugh.

“Of course it does. The bucket’s heaping.” And they all laughed, the sound muffled by their helmets but nonetheless disgusting.

They began throwing packages with the paste at the captives, not really bothering to aim, but even when a package hit someone’s head, no one dared to say a word. Seeing people so beaten into humiliation and obedience was revolting, but also Tommy knew what they would get were they to act up, and he understood them. After all, when it’s a choice between dignity and survival, every normal person would choose the latter.

Nikki, by these standards, was straight-up bonkers, because he never once lowered his gaze even when black helmets turned right towards him. His sheer recklessness infected Tommy, because every time the piss splashed under the guards’ boots he couldn’t hold back a smile.

Eventually it attracted attention.

“What’s so funny, you pipsqueak?” One of the guards poked him in the shoulder with a bat.

“Nothing,” Tommy said quickly, staring at the guard’s wet boot traces on the floor.

“Bullshit!” The bat poked him harder. “You find something here funny? Tell us, we want to laugh too.”

Other guards began turning around and looking themselves over suspiciously. Tommy waited with bated breath for them to discover they were standing in piss.

“You see,” he began, “sometimes things are not what they seem. Not all that’s liquid is gold, but sometimes… it is.”

“What the hell does that mean? What liquid?” The guard looked down and Tommy could almost see his face falling. “Is this- is this-“

“That’s fucking piss! I said it smells like piss! I said it!” another one screamed, trying to wipe the soles of his boots on the floor. Tommy could only hope Nikki’s piss was acidic enough to leave those boots smelly for at least a little while after. “He peed in the fucking aisle!”

“You bastard!” the guard growled, grabbing Tommy by the scruff of his robe and single-handedly pulling him onto his feet. “You son of a bitch!” He pushed Tommy in the middle of the room towards the other guards. Tommy could bet their faces were creased with anger, and a chill went down his spine.

“Look at ‘im! He did it on purpose!” The one who smelled the piss jumped forward and raised the bat over his head. Then it collided with Tommy’s shoulder, and he almost dropped onto his knees, his vision for a second going white.

“Hey! Hey! He didn’t do it!” he heard from behind his back. Dammit, Nikki. “I did it! Leave him alone! I did it!”

The second blow never got there. All the guards turned towards Nikki.

“You?” one of them said.

“Me.” Nikki grinned back. “You should’ve sent someone to empty the bucket.”

Tommy watched the guards unchain him, but only to drag him to the middle of the room, push him onto his knees and zap him with two shockers at once, one in the chest and one in the hip. About twelve seconds into this Nikki must have blacked out, because he stopped screaming. The guards dragged him back to his mattress and dropped his lifeless body there, the knees of his robe soaked with urine.

“You knew he pissed there,” a guard said then to Tommy. “You knew and didn’t tell us.”

He got zapped too – later he figured out that he got an easier deal with just one shocker, though at the moment it was hard to tell with electricity seemingly disintegrating his body tissues. He was dropped on the floor right where he stood.

“You all knew,” he heard a guard say to the captives through ringing in his ears. “You all knew and said nothing, you spineless sacks of shit. You ain’t getting any dinner today. Give that back!”

It took Tommy some time to come around, and when he crawled back to his mattress, Nikki had only just awakened, his eyes still foggy and unfocused, a thread of saliva hanging from his half-open mouth.

“Man, you look like shit,” Tommy croaked.

Nikki only made an unintelligible groan in response, but Tommy knew he said something along the lines of “you ain’t no better”. Which, fair.

He laid down on his mattress, trying to combat the nausea that always came with electric shock. When one wanted to puke his guts out so badly, getting deprived of dinner didn’t seem half as bad. The captives probably didn’t agree, but none of them dared to express their discontent verbally – for now, at least.

Soon Nikki tried to raise his head and sit up. The guards forgot to chain him back, so he could finally use both his arms. Well, at least something good came out of this whole mess.

“Man,” he heard Nikki’s hoarse voice, “that was hella fun.”

And, despite his body hurting all over and his pants soaked in piss, Tommy could hardly disagree with him. At least now the guards knew they could get back at them – in their own way.

#motley crue #nikki sixx #tommy lee #motley crue fanfiction #tw: piss #piss features heavily in this chapter. its for plot purposes i swear #it basically goes like this:#nikki does some shit #tommy plays along #both get their asses beaten #and nevertheless have a good time #as we were falling #the title is eh. maybe ill change it if i come up with something better #but it will do for now

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fandom-joiner · 9 months ago

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Face-off

Just the Beginning before this

‘He’s trying to get into his head, and it’s working.’

“You really are similar to the previous One For All successor, Shimura Nana.”

“Do not sully the name of my honored master… with that filthy mouth of yours…!”

“She was a woman of no skill whose ideals got ahead of her. She was an embarrassment to me as the one who created One For All. She died in a really pathetic way. Where shall I start…?”

“Don’t listen to him!” Hiva shouted. “He’s trying to piss you off. Don’t let him.”

“Enough!”

“Damn it!” Hiva yelled as All Might raised his fist to bring it down on All For One again. Smoke wrapped around both of them, and Hiva was in All Might’s place a second later. A large explosion sent her into the air and almost into the reporting helicopter, but she slowed to a stop and hung onto one of the prongs. “I couldn’t touch him. That was the perfect chance, too.” Another attack flew towards her, and she blew it away and off course. Hiva pulled herself up and knocked on the helicopter’s window before sliding the door open and swinging in. “I know it’s your job, but you shouldn’t be here. I’d leave if I were you. You’ll get yourselves killed.” She jumped from the helicopter and landed, sighing when it made no move to leave.

“Hiva!” Hiva froze at the little voice that called out to her. She turned, and her eyes widened at the sight of Hajime’s panicked face, the heroes below the rubble shouting at him to get back.

"This isn’t a safe place for a child,” All For One stated, lifting his hand. Smoke gathered around Hiva and flew towards All For One, throwing him into the air. Another tendril of smoke wrapped around him and pulled him back into the ground.

Hiva turned and ran to Hajime, wrapping her arms around him and sliding down the small hill. “You okay, kiddo?” Hajime just whimpered and hid his face in her shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I’ll make sure you and everyone else gets out of here safely.” Her eyes glowed as she spoke. Buildings shifted and picked themselves back up and stood how they once were. Black smoke wrapped around the victims and kept them as still as possible to carry them to a safer place without causing more injury.

“You’re gonna beat him, right?” Hajime’s voice was small and terrified.

“All Might has it. Don’t worry.”

“But he looks so different.” Hiva sighed. If even Hajime could see it, All Might might’ve been doing worse than she wanted to admit.

“He won’t beat me,” Hiva assured. “I’m staying to help. You have to go with the heroes, so I can do that, though, okay?” Hajime slowly nodded and let Hiva lay him down. The smoke covered him, and she finally noticed the odd angle of his leg and the quiet wheezes coming from his lungs. Hiva shook with rage as she looked back up the rubble. She threw her arms out to send the smoke farther out and then raised them to force the buildings to stand. She floated up and glared at All For One, the smoke furling from her eyes and creating an almost villainous face over her head.

“You fucked up.” Hiva wanted nothing more than to shove All For One's face into the ground over and over until he stopped moving, but she had to play rescue first.

“Have any emergency vehicles arrived yet?” Hiva called down, panting slightly from the effort.

“They’re on the way,” one hero replied. Hiva sighed.

“Good,” she grunted. “This should be the last of them.” Hiva sent out another wave of smoke as the last civilians floated over her head to safety.

“Thank you for the help.” Hiva hadn’t even heard the sentence, falling to the ground, the force creating a crater under her feet. Black fire flew from her eyes as she watched the fight between All For One and All Might, waiting for the perfect time to jump in. She sped forward before she could second guess herself, brushing All For One’s shoulder as she passed.

---

“Woah!” the reporter exclaimed as he watched the fire rise above. “You can feel the heat!” In a second, the fire was gone, and so were All For One and Hiva. “H-Hey, where did they go?”

“Hiva!” All Might called. “HIVA!” Everyone watching their screens studied the terrain, trying to see if they were hidden below.

“Wait, we’re getting something,” the reporter said after a moment. The helicopter changed course and began to fly away from the original fight. Large clouds of smoke and dust could be seen in the distance after a few minutes of flying. “There! That way!”

---

The flames disappeared, and All For One studied his new surroundings, taking in the trees and nearby lake as Hiva panted with her chest heaving like her body was trying to force her to double over. “Interesting choice. What were you hoping for, Shinso?” All For One asked. “Oh, you said Yamada earlier, right?” Hiva held her arms in front of her like a shield as All For One’s arm swelled and was thrown back into the forest. “You can’t win. You’re not All Might. Not even All Might could’ve won. That’s why you brought us here, right?” Hiva scrambled behind a tree and gasped for breath as she heard trees get ripped from the ground and thrown like they weighed nothing.

‘I wasn’t thinking.’ she thought. ‘I just wanted to keep anyone else from getting hurt. And I was mad. It was probably more because of that, but that’s gone now. This is terrifying.’ “I guess you’re a fan of hide and seek, Yamada.” Hiva tensed at the voice behind her. “So am I.” Hiva grunted at the sudden force to her body and twisted in the air. She hit a tree, and a crack echoed around the forest. She hit the ground and whimpered, then hissed as her spine put itself back together. She picked her head and body up off the ground, forcing herself to stand. ‘I can do this… right?’ Hiva appeared back in the clearing they arrived at and blocked the attack that shot towards her. The wind that blew with it formed waves in the lake behind her and made the trees bend towards her.

Another attack was quick to follow, and she flew back into the water. She panicked when she fell under and black wrapped around her. She knelt in the clearing and coughed as All For One’s shadow covered her. “Yamada, this is pathetic.” The sudden explosion blasted her back, sending dirt and debris into the air. Attack after attack interrupted Hiva’s every thought and attempt she made to stand. Her body finally gave up, and she laid on the ground, forcing her eyes to stay open so she could at least glare at him as he approached. Her head pounded and got worse with the sudden sound of the helicopter, that seemed to get closer and closer until it hovered right over them, and she groaned. ‘Hate them.’

People were shouting at their screens when they saw the teen sprawled out on the ground. “Come on, Hiva,” Shota mumbled as Vlad shouted, and Nezu jumped and cheered for her. Hizashi kept a protective arm around Hitoshi, and Denki had both arms around one of Hanta’s, his and the other blonde’s eyes glued to the screen while Hanta and Hitoshi found it hard to look.

It seemed like a collective sigh went through everyone in Japan when Hiva got to her knees, only to fall back.

“Stand, Hiva!” Katsuki and Izuku shouted with the group of people around them.

“Hiva….” Hitoshi trailed off. “God… STAND UP!” As if she could hear him through the screen, Hiva rolled onto her hands and knees, looking at All For One with eyes that glowed black.

“You had one purpose,” All For One spoke. Hiva glared at him. “It shouldn’t have to be like this. You’re such a beautiful creation. I never wanted to replace you, Yamada, but I think I somehow knew. Why else would I have Aiko.” The ground shook as Hiva stood, trembling and wobbling side to side for a moment before she forced herself to steady. She held her arm out, and it exploded, gathering back into a cloud of smoke.

“I’m not your project.” She punched into the ground, and All For One was thrown into the air. He slowed to a stop, but Hiva threw her other arm down, making All For One crash back into the earth. “Neither is she.” Fire flew in every direction, drying out the shaking ground and making it crack as the lake began to bubble and steam like a boiling pot. The water rose and flew towards All For One, but he redirected it to Hiva. She held her smoky arm in front of her, and it evaporated immediately.

“I didn’t want to kill you, Yamada, but I’m afraid I’ve been left no choice.” All For One sighed. “It’s a shame, but I could always start over. Springlike Limbs, Kinetic Booster times four, Strength Enhancer times three, Multiplier, Hypertrophy, Rivets, Air Walk, and Spear like Bones. In order to kill you for sure, I will punch you with the ultimate combination of Quirks that I have right now!”

“Overkill much?” Hiva wondered aloud. She sighed and shrugged, crouching down with a smirk. “Go ahead and give it your best shot.” ‘Aza’s letting me use more power than before. Sure, it hurts, but I don’t need to worry about this guy anymore.’

“You know, for a moment, Yamada… I thought you were the holder of One For All, but it’s Midoriya Izuku, isn’t it?” All For One’s fist flew towards the air towards Hiva. Dirt and debris shot up into the air. The dust settles down, but smoke still spun around the clearing, blocking Hiva from view. Laughing broke the silence, and the black smoke gathered together in what seemed to be a fuzzy form of Hiva.

The smoke slowly became solid, and Hiva dropped to the ground. “I’m offended you thought something like that could kill me.” She turned to smoke again and flew into the ground, creating funnels of wind that knocked the helicopter off course and nearly out of the air. She rose again and ran to All For One. He flew back, and there was another large gust of wind. “I’m curious.” The dust settles to show Hiva’s hair floating and her eyes a burning red. “What happens when you have no Quirk?” All For One held his hand out, and Hiva laughed when nothing happened. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. After all your teasing, I wanted a turn.” All For One laughed, and Hiva tilted her head.

“Thank you.” Hiva hummed. “You ended the Symbol of Peace. Thank you for fulfilling your purpose.” Hiva froze, and All For One laughed loudly. “What happened to ignoring me? I’m just saying what I have to to get in your head, right?” Hiva’s leg turned to smoke and met the side of All For One’s head a moment later, following through and stomping him into the ground. She stepped back and gasped for breath, watching him to make sure he was unconscious. She sighed and grabbed the back of his suit to lift him up before flying up to touch the helicopter. Hiva let go of the helicopter when they returned and gently landed on the ground before throwing All For One down. It was completely silent until she blinked, hair falling and eyes turning back to purple. Hiva could hear the cheers even from there as a bony hand wrapped around her wrist and forced it into the air.

“You did terrific,” Toshinori complimented quietly. She smiled but couldn’t meet his eyes. “Better than I ever could’ve.” The cheers got louder when his muscular form appeared on the screen to lift Hiva into the air. Everyone was screaming and happy, but Hiva was struggling to breathe.

“Put me down,” she mumbled as she started to squirm with discomfort. “Put me down!” Toshinori quickly did as told and watched her worriedly.

“Are you okay, Hiva?” She just covered her ears to try and block everyone out and looked around in panic. Toshinori placed a hand on her shoulder that she flinched away from. Smoke gathered around her, and she was gone in a second.

#mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #denki kaminari fic #hiva shinso #mha x oc #my hero academia oc #mha oc #my hero acedamia oc #bnha oc #boku no hero academia oc #bnha x oc #boku no hero academia x oc #bnha fic #mha fic #boku no hero academia fic #my hero academia fic

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might-be-max · 1 year ago

Text

Entry 1 [The Page, pt1]

I’m sure everyone can remember their retail days. The periods of our lives when we worked long hours for shit pay and at the mercy of every dickhead who felt a soy sauce shortage was a legitimate reason to ruin someone’s shift. I’m still unfortunately eyeballs deep in that phase of my life. I sure wish that soccer moms with bad haircuts or thumb-shaped juice heads with little-man syndrome were the biggest of my problems. We all make jokes about working retail being Hell, some even compare it to purgatory. A between space where time passes at a painstaking crawl. It’s nothing compared to this.

I had my back pressed against a cold refrigerator in the appliance showroom. I was starting to get the hang of this disturbing version of hide and seek, but I was getting pretty tired of being the one hiding all the time.

I could hear the subtle, deep-throated clicking of the creature as it made its slow pursuit up the aisles, meticulously searching. It knew I was here, they always did. I could see the arch of its back over high shelves and its gangly limbs clinging to beams to keep its balance.

I held my hands over my mouth and tried to steady my breath as the creature made its clumsy advanced. A viscous sludge oozed from its skin sounding like tar when it dripped to the floor. The sludge, eating away at everything it touched like corrosive Piranha Solution. It smelled of hot Florida dumpster. Like burnt tire rubber, warm beer and melted plastic with the nose-curling sourness of spoiled food. I could feel the muscles in my gut sizing, threatening to eject the dry cereal I shoveled into my mouth this morning.

The refrigerators rattled as I saw a meaty clawed hand the size of a large dog cling to their tops followed by the sound of ragged breath. The smell grew heavier as the hand slapped from one fridge to another until it settled atop of mine. It sat there just long enough to wonder if I’d been found before it, along with the smell, vanished entirely.

*Oh thank God…*

I waited for my heart to move from hammering in my throat to back in my chest. I peek my head out from behind the fridge to see no one. I was alone again.

“Management nearly got you this time, man.”

Or at least I thought I was. I about pissed myself and quickly turned around to find a mannequin standing within shoe throwing distance in an ugly sweater and pair of fitted khakis.

“FRED! Jesus Christ! I told you to start announcing yourself!”

“I mean, I could have. But then you would have ended up as Sheryl’s lunch.”

I know what everyone would be thinking right about now. “This guy is hiding from monsters and talking to mannequins, he’s probably nuts,” and yeah… you’d probably be right. But consider this first— I work retail. I deserve to be crazy, so reserve all judgments for now.

The mannequin, Fred, swung his body from side to side, stiffly waddling over to me.

“What’d you do to make her mad this time? Breath too loud? Sit too long?”

I stood up and dusted the lint bunnies from my pants. “Fidgeting with a sign stickytab…” I said.

“Yeah, that’ll do it. She got Juan earlier, poor bastard didn’t even see her coming.”

Fred looked like a life-sized Ken Doll and spoke with a New York accent. His mouth never moved though. It was permanently fixed into a smile, filled with a row of perfectly straight, white painted teeth. But his eyes… those moved. They seemed to follow you. It was like one of those spooky old paintings where the eyes seemed to track you around the room, no matter where you went. It was a little creepy.

“Donkey tattoo Juan? I liked him. He didn’t give me as many stink-eyes as the others.”

“Well, he’s got no eyes to stink with anymore. Squashed like a watermelon, KER-SPLAT. Sheryl didn’t even stop to lookit’em.”

“Yeesh…”

“Better him than us.”

“Us? It won’t eat you. It'd be like eating a plastic bead,” I said as I began to re-face the water filters again.

“I mean. Yeah, but I’d give her indigestion for you if she ever does!” Fred made an attempt at putting his hands on his hips with an awkward, rubbery squeak.

“How noble of you.”

If Fred had been endowed with the gift face muscles, he’d probably be wearing a shit-eating grin.

“It ain't easy being a Hero!”

I listened again to see if Sheryl was still around. Can never be too careful with Manager “Five Ears To The Ground” Sheryl. The screams in the distance told me it was somewhere in Household Chemicals which meant there was around six miles of store between us.

The hellscape where I work is called Thetamart. It was supposed to be like a super shopping center, best described as if a mall and Costco had a baby. But this baby was unfortunately disfigured so horribly it broke and disregarded the laws of the reality we live in. All that to say, ThetaMart is like a retail affair baby if H.P. Lovecraft was the mistress. It’s full of impossible creatures, monsters and products an insane person couldn’t even conjure in their strangest fever dreams.

Everything inside of ThetaMart is white— a stark, sterile white from floor to ceiling, with shelves that stand several tall men high. There’s the lingering smell of cheap plastic in here, and the only thing piercing the constant mind-numbing silence is the distant sound of tinny elevator music that seemingly comes from everywhere and nowhere. The tune feels so familiar, just not enough to place or follow. If that wasn’t chilling enough, the screams that abruptly break the silent hours when management is close by is frightening enough to start the heart of a dead man.

Which is why it was so strange when first, a momentary blanket of silence fell over the store, like what they do for memorials. It was an oppressive, drawn out stillness before being broken by a voice erupting from the invisible speakers.

“Max, there is a call waiting for you on—” The page was followed by a shrill garble that sounded like Jabba The Hutt was choking on rocks before it went silent again.

I looked at Fred.

“What the fuck was that?”

“You got a page man, you gotta answer it.”

“How? There’s no phone in this department.”

The nearest working phone that I knew of was in electronics which was about six or so miles away. I'd just cut my losses and throw myself from the highest shelf. There was no way I'd make it without being maimed or eaten before getting there. As absurd as this place is, I don't think trekking over Toys and finding a Playskool Elmo & Friends Smartphone would cut it either.

“Well it won’t stop paging you till you answer it, and trust me. You’re gonna wanna answer it.”

“What… What happens if I don't?”

He doesn’t respond and instead stares silently for a moment.

“…Hello?”

He lunged forward and snatched my phone.

“Hey!”

I swiped to get it back but Fred was quick for a guy with limited mobility.

“Sorry pal, you’ll thank me later!”

He began to speed-waddle away. I actually had to run after him just to keep up, which was impressive considering his legs only moved in two directions.

“Fred! Fred! I can’t— I can’t leave without my—“

He disappeared, heading deeper into the store.

“Aw man…”

Considering the short time I’ve been here I’ve learned a lot about this place and how it operates, sort of. In the grand scheme of it all, I probably know absolutely dip-squat. But because of these dubious guidelines, I’ve made it far enough to share this.

1. Stay away from the other associates. They may look like people or potential survival partners. Perhaps the last anchor you could hold steadfast to sanity with. But they are absolutely, definitely not. Far from it. Avoid them at all costs. They might have been human once, but they certainly aren’t anymore.

2. The areas that turn yellow, or the zones of the store that are more decrepit than the other areas and are more prone to Management activity. That’s what Sheryl is. The denizens of this place are known as Management. The higher the status, the nastier they are.

3. Be sure to follow the first two rules no matter what. It will make life a lot easier.

Funnily enough, Fred actually bestowed upon me a lot of the knowledge I’ve accumulated about this place. Which pissed me off even more when I had to actively choose to break all three rules.

“Fred! This isn’t funny! I don’t have time for your crap!”

I continued walking at a brisk pace, following the distant taps of hollow dress shoes. All around me the fluorescent lights became yellower, more tarnished. They flicker and hum overhead and some blown out completely.

There are pillows and overturned furniture, soggy boxes, and broken glass strewn about the linoleum. The smell of stale old couch stuffing and mildew penetrated the air and hung like a wet blanket making it slightly uncomfortable to breathe.

I walk beneath the hanging sign saying in bold blue letters, *Home and Decor*.

Oh crap. I found myself reconsidering how important my phone really was. I could just buy a new one. Sure, the other one isn’t even paid off yet. But is it really worth being eaten or squashed or… whatever it is monsters do to people? A scrawny college student sustained purely off of ramen and espresso can’t taste that good, right? Just when I talked myself into abandoning my phone with every puppy pic of my dog I had ever taken, I felt eyes fixed on me. I had been spotted.

“Maxwell…” *Shit*.

I very slowly turn around to find looming over me, was Nosferatu.

Well, he’s not actually Nosferatu, but he could have had me fooled if this were a Spirit Halloween.

“Ralph. You look uh… alive, today.”

Ralph’s skin clung to his skeletal frame like wet toilet paper. The white of his eyes were as sunken and yellow as the lights around us, and his apron identical to mine covered in various stains of several concerning colors. I tried my best not to stare at them as he leaned down and hovered closer to my face.

His irises glistened a gross, milky white with something swirling behind their film.

“Why aren’t you in your department, Maxwell?”

Now would’ve been an amazing time to be great at lying, but I wasn’t much of a talker at the best of times.

“Uh…I was getting…”

My eyes began to frantically dart around for a sign or—

“Milk!”

“…milk?”

“Yeah, milk! Can’t have my bones breaking on the job right?”

I made an attempt at a playful punch, but Ralph was *so* much squishier than he should have been. I felt my stomach lurch when my fist sunk through his arm and into his torso like a damn slime-filled stress ball. Accept instead of alleviating stress he makes it so, so much worse.

He stared at me for a moment in unimpressed silence. Ralph was a supervisor. Not only that, but I managed to piss him off twice in my first week. Needless to say, he’s far from my biggest fan. He also makes me really uncomfortable.

“You are heading in the wrong direction…”

“O-oh really? Sheesh, I’m still getting turned around. Three weeks and I still have no sense of direction. Typical Max!”

I took a step back.

“Well I better be on my way now. Looks like I’ve got a ways to walk.”

“I’ll call for assistance.”

“NO–“ *Lying isn't working, try being honest-*

“Why is that…”

“You’re gross—” *Too Honest!*

He said nothing.

“I mean, grossly understaffed! You look like you are barely holding on with these dang staff shortages right? I don’t want to impose!” *Nailed it.*

He continued to eyeball me for a tiny eternity. All I could do was stand there and sweat. *Maybe if I don’t move he will leave… like a T-Rex*. Unfortunately, Ralph didn't follow predatory chicken rules. He took a step back and very, very slowly started opening his mouth. It stretched and cracked like the Conjuring House with osteoporosis. His teeth were rotting and twisted, and his tongue was a sickly purple color. If I wasn’t running on three hours of sleep and two RedBulls, I probably would have started screaming like a kid in a haunted Chuck E. Cheese. Just as Ralph took in an impressively deep breath to shriek or howl or whatever awful sound the supervisors make to summon managers, I saw my phone fly out of seemingly nowhere with the momentum of a bullet. It twirled wildly like an IOS throwing star and very effectively caved in the right side of Ralph's face.

He fell to the floor with a tragic plopping sound that reminded me of a soggy banana peel landing in a puddle.

“BOOYAH!”

Fred sprung out from behind a loveseat and started doing an awkward victory dance.

“Shoulda tried out for the Yankees!”

“Hopefully you have some reflexes to go with that throwing arm! You’re lucky I don’t do the same to you for running off with my phone!”

“Aww come on Maxy, I had to get you moving somehow.”

I didn’t respond. Instead, I leaned down and plucked my phone from Ralph’s caved-in dome. It came free with a moist snick. Thankfully there was no grey matter or blood, just a gross and slightly greasy film where his skin and my phone made contact.

“If I have to touch one more bodily secretion that isn’t mine one more time this week….”

Fred slowly stuck his foot into Ralph’s side and laughed when the old man made a sound like a deflating sponge cake.

“Eh, you get used to it. Now let’s get this show back on the road.”

“Uh, no. I need to go back to appliances where it's safe. I haven't even been over here for five minutes and Ralph was ready to hand me a pink-slip from life.”

Fred somehow managed to blow a raspberry without his lips moving and pat my shoulder.

“He wishes he had the clearance to do that. All he can do is hoop and holler. Ain't that right, Ralphy?”

Ralph, now drooling, said nothing and only continued to make more squishy deflating noises.

“Is he ok?”

“Oh yeah, I saw him get crushed by a shelf once. He’s even been sat on by Bonnie and still got up. He was totally fine too. I’m sure he enjoyed getting sat on more though, sly dog.”

“Wow–”

“I know right? He’s all about that bass. I respect that.”

“Ew, n-no I mean does he just not die or… does he not have bones?”

He looked back down at Ralph, then back at me.

“Well he's got somethin’.”

“How the heck did he get a squash-proof card?”

“Ha! What, you want one too? Trust me, you don’t want what he’s got. Shit’s probably terminal.”

“What’s that mean?”

Fred did something that looked like he was trying to shrug. Trying and failing. He also had the nerve to take another swipe at me in an attempt to grab my phone again.

I jerked it away just in time and slapped his plastic hand away.

“If you don’t cut it out!- Why did you bring me here anyway!? You hate Home and Decor.”

Fred looked like he was about to say something, seemed to buffer then looked back down at Ralph one last time.

“Well, my original plan was to ask Grandpa Pudding here if he still happened to have a phone but I’d doubt he’d tell us now. Guess we go with plan B.”

“What’s plan B?” I asked. Fred answered this by taking another swipe at my phone. I stuck it in the air as high as I could manage.

“HEY! God you’re worse than a three-year-old today! What the hell man?!”

I’ve seen Fred do some pretty weird stuff, aside from the living mannequin thing. All it took was the fraction of a second for me to blink for Fred to be gone with my fucking phone again. I looked at my empty hand, then over my shoulder at him booking it down the aisles. Before I could sputter the creative string of swears I had threaded together just for Fred’s ears the store was plunged into silence again.

“Uh-oh.” It lasted a few seconds longer than before.

“Max there is a call waiting for you on—”

The horrible sound it made was louder. So much louder this time.

I slapped my hands over my ears and could feel the sound vibrating in my chest. It only lasted for a moment, but that's all it took to leave me with an annoying ring in my ears. *So that's what he meant.*

Now begrudgingly coming to terms that this shift was going to be a probably very dangerous trek across the store, I looked back at the now deflated Ralph. Within moments of being clocked with my phone, he looked like a snake was running around in a human suit and shed him at some point. I almost wanted to feel bad, but he was a dick and I thought better of it. I instead opted to start going through his pockets.

"Let’s see… food tokens, a box cutter, and some new blades. I’m sure those will come in handy."

I had made the mistake of losing my pocket knife on my first day to the disembodied appendages that live under the shelves in aisles 12 and 16. Don’t ask— that’s a story for another time. I clicked up the blade and the thing extended to almost four inches long.

“How many newbies like me have you used this thing on, Ralph? Cause I certainly haven’t seen you open any boxes.”

I stood, gave him one last squishy nudge with my foot, and went to go find that stupid mannequin…

The Home and Decor department almost reminded me a bit of a decrepit thrift store. The musty smell of old, used things and old, used people. Ralph fit in perfectly with the washed-out background that was bathed in piss yellow. But I also couldn’t help but wonder, why did this side of the store look as awful as it did? There were even water stains on the fiberglass ceiling tiles way up above. Everything I’ve seen of the store looked awful in some capacity, but the level of awfulness here was borderline ridiculous.

My job here had me stuck in a different department every shift, something referred to as a *Floater*. Basically, I was being trained in a bit of everything. The one who hired me told me that I would have this position until I found my place. I thought that statement was strange, because I was only supposed to be here for about four months. At one point I was certain I would stay longer. Twenty dollars an hour for a retail gig sounded like cake, but now I find myself wondering if I’ll even last that long.

“You’ve been standing there for an awfully long time, Maxwell.”

The sound of a woman’s voice hung itself in the air and arrested my attention, it was enough to snap me back into the moment so hard I nearly got whiplash. Wet and broken glass crunched under my feet as I spun. I pull out my new box cutter, holding it out in front of me like I could actually fight something if I needed to.

“It’s Max. And a guy can’t take a second to collect his thoughts?”

“Sure you can, but standing in the middle of an aisle muttering to yourself might be considered a little…crazy, wouldn’t you say?”

A massive spider, as big as a Volkswagen Beetle slowly peered over the shelves that had been covered in ugly pillows and rested atop of it. She had a shiny black body and long, sharp legs that still shimmered like obsidian spears in the low light and easily extended around 17 feet. Her eight eyes were a deep red, and her front two legs ending in unmistakably human hands with painted, manicured nails. Janis, from what I understand, is one of the vendors. She’s also one of the few creatures in here I don’t find myself running and screaming from, shockingly. She’s just kind of a bitch.

“Considering the things that go on here I’m not exactly concerned with what uh… people think of me,” I say slowly aiming the box cutter away. The giant arachnid almost seemed to smile smugly at me from her perch, her mandibles moving and twitching as she spoke.

“Oh, not enjoying your position? You seemed so enthusiastic a few weeks ago.”

“Why in God’s name do you think I would be enjoying this place? I just had a run-in with Ralph I’ll be trying to scrub from my mind for the next three weeks! And I had no idea the shit I’d have to deal with a few weeks ago! This is entrapment! It’s illegal! ”

Janis tapped her perfectly polished claws against the metal shelf like an irritated Disney villain, making annoying tink sounds.

“Still on that are we? Not the brightest color in the box. But a busted-broke college student down on his luck with $5 to his name… people like you thrive in extreme situations. You adapt. Not because you want to, but because you are in the unique position of not having any other choice.”

“I don’t want to adapt or change or anything! I just wanted a job!! Not to end up with a new list of phobias or nearly be killed every time I clock in! Twenty bucks an hour isn’t worth dying for!”

“Well seeing as how you were hired here, no one will miss you if did bite the dust. So make the best of the situation, learn. Maybe bitch less, it will make you more likable.”

“... Ouch.”

“It’s true.”

“I know…I know it’s true. But you didn’t have to say it.”

“ThetaMart, as well as being a space between, has the ability to bring out something in people they would rather not look at. It changes them into something more—” She looked at a moldy pillow sitting beside her on the shelf, she huffed while pushing it away and it went tumbling to the floor with a wet plop.

“More compelling, I'd say. You get to break the monotony and forget how small you are.”

“I am perfectly comfortable with how small I am, thanks.”

“What a winner. I’m sure your girlfriend shares the same sentiment.”

“Was there a point to you Grudge-crawling up there, or are you just here to harass me?”

“I like having the high ground, and I wanted to give you a bit of friendly advice.”

“Well don’t leave me in suspense Obi-Wan.”

“Who’s that?”

“He’s— …never mind. What is it?”

She sighed and slowly lowered herself down the shelf, creaking under her weight as she did so she lowered her voice to a whisper.

“You know how they tell you to stop and smell the roses?.”

“Yeah?”

She reached her hand down into my apron pocket and took out one of the food tokens I had lifted from Ralph. They were made of tarnished brass.

“You may want to skip it this time where you’re going. As for these…” She examined one of them closely.

“Heads or tails, little bug?”

“Uh…t-tails.” I said. She hummed and flicked the coin into the air, I watched the coin owl-eyed as it hovered above us for just a moment before she snatched it and slapped it down on the outer side of her hand. I shuttered reflexively at the quick motion, then felt embarrassed for doing so. Janis seemed to grin in amusement, peeked under her hand at the coin then extended it to me.

“Tails. Luck sways in your favor today. Use it wisely and you might see the end of your shift.” she said.

“You can’t really determine that with a coin. Luck isn’t real.”

“You are really going to look a giant talking spider in her face and say–” she lowered her voice a few octaves and said in the universal guy voice, you know the one “Luck isn’t real.” She did have a point. But to accept luck was real, was to accept my luck up until this point was actually kind of shit and I had no idea why or if I had any way to change it.

“Well if luck is real…it’d be nice to catch a break. But I’m not saying it is.”

“Whatever you say, Floater.”

She sighed and rubbed all eight of her eyes.

“That mannequin wanted me to pass this on to you…” She pulled out a pair of pink flower clippers from seemingly nowhere.

“Go to Garden & Live Goods. He’s waiting for you there. Like I said, avoid smelling the roses.”

She handed the clippers to me and tisked.

“Dumbass.”

“Like, roses specifically or–.”

“Get to steppin’ I have work to do.”

I eyed the clippers. They made a satisfying snipping sound when I pulled the handles.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Really.”

In typical spider fashion, she crept back up the shelf and disappeared over the other side. If every spider is as rude as she is I don’t know if I feel quite as bad as I used to when I would bring a shoe down on them.

I stuck the clippers in my apron, and began to head in the direction I was pretty sure was garden.

#horror #horror writing #horror story #writeblr #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #creepypasta #spooky #spooky stories #liminal #liminal vibes #hopefully y’all enjoy this! thank you for reading!!#surrealcore #liminal reality #liminality #retail

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neon-lights-stardust-nights · 2 years ago

Note

“You know, we used to be inseparable. I miss the way we were.” with 🚬

“Don’t touch them!” with Johnny Silverhand

I'm gonna post the second one in a reblog to make the post a little less cluttered to me? IDK, here's part 1 with 🚬!

[meme]

Bone dropped the gun, not caring that the safety was off. It clattered there by the bed, all sounds of metal and other such nonsense. The job was long. The jobs had become faers life at this point. If fae wasn’t icing people, fae was sleeping. The bandanna was thrown over the radio on the nightstand, jacket shucked onto the floor afterward. In only a mesh shirt and cargo pants, Bone fell backward into bed.

The radio came crackling to life, slow like the ooze of fresh blood from faers leg wound. “Sport, you back yet? I heard some commotion!”

Bone just hummed in the affirmative, moving faers leg. From faers calf came bright, glowing pink. It would stain the sheets—it left a bioluminescent streak with a faint glow. The static raged on, calming only when Terry spoke again. “How’d the job go?”

“Fine,” Bone replied. “Sleep now.”

“Oh! Already?”

“Long job,” Bone mumbled.

Terry hesitated. “Not even gonna shower or anything first? You probably smell like nothing but shit, piss, and gun powder.”

Bone quirked a brow, raising faers hand to faers face to smell… “Don’t smell.”

“You’ve been rolling in it for weeks,” Terry retorted with a chuckle, loose and nervous. “You’re probably nose blind to it!”

“Shower later. Job in morning.”

Terry tried a few times to summon the right words, crackling vocal fry parting the static a few times before he actually had a sentence together. “I thought we were handing that off to someone else. It did just feel like grunt work—way below what I’d normally assign you.”

“Need the work.”

“Like shit you do!”

Bone’s head snapped to the radio. “Hostile.”

Terry sighed. “I’m sorry, Sport. I just…” He took a deep breath. “You know, we used to be inseparable. I miss the way we were.”

There was silence, discounting the static. Bone laid there, eyes falling half lidded as fae tried to think of what to say. Nothing came to mind—nothing good or helpful, at least. A full minute passed, the static starting to die away. Finally, Bone spoke up.

“Switch.”

It sparked to full volume proceeding him speaking up—as though he’d been hoping Bone would say literally anything before he could go. “What?”

“Job. Switch.”

“Oh?” The sound of rustling papers could be heard. “Right, yeah! I mean, not like it’s any skin off my nose to keep you around more. Anyone you wanna assign?”

“Klint,” Bone replied. “Good shot.”

“He is, ain’t he?” Terry laughed some. There was the click of a pen—the sharp drag of writing. More shuffling after. “I’ll have Oculus deliver the papers to the right people, photos of the taget to Klint…”

“Shower in morning,” Bone said with some great authority.

“Ah, right. I did bring that up.”

“Borrow yours?”

Terry blinked reflexively, but that was lost on Bone. “Sport, I need it in the…” Then you could hear the smile in his voice: “I get ya. I see. Yeah, you can borrow mine.”

#asks #anon #sanya writes #🚬

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elysianslove · 4 years ago

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oh boy idk if you’ve ever talked about this before (i’m new to the blog, and you’re so very talented!!! you make my dumb horny heart just 🦋🦋) BUT what are your thoughts on which of the haikyuu boys are best/worst at being edged? like who’s begging and crying after 20 minutes and who’s able to hold out for hoouurrs before getting just a touch whiny. i. need to know. for science 🤲🏼

thank you so much!!! welcome to the blog my love 🥺 but omg. thoughts. so many.

HAIKYUU BOYS THAT CAN HANDLE EDGING

matsukawa issei; he’s purely holding out this long out of spite. as if he has something to prove, which he very much does. he’s barely bucking up into you, trying his best to hold his pants and his hisses from how borderline painful this is, but you can see how tense he is. his abs keep spasming, his biceps flexing as he fists the sheets. he keeps his legs spread for you though, lets you suck at his cock, fondle his balls, stroke at the base and squeeze at the tip with your much smaller hand. he lasts a good an hour and 10 minutes. honestly, genuinely impressive. he won’t let you get off easy though, good luck with that.

oikawa tōru; originally, i’d think he’d be so bad at this, but honestly, oikawa’s orgasm control is so impressive? even when he’s fucking you, he’s lowkey edging himself because he always holds off until you cum. so letting you edge him isn’t too much of a problem. he definitely cries and begs like a bitch, but he lasts, oh he lasts. approximately 35 ish minutes. definitely cums without warning and without permission, and you can’t decide whether he did it on purpose to piss you off or because he genuinely couldn’t continue. it’s okay, just overstimulate him till he’s crying all over again. tōru’s a very pretty crier, after all <3

kita shinsuke; oh my god, the best boy. he’d last days if you asked him to. he’ll be quietly, as quietly as he can, panting and whining and groaning, silent tears streaming down his face every time you pull away from his cock. every time he bucks his hips up, it’s followed by a trail of “sorry, sorry, m’sorry,” that it’s just so adorable. has you cooing at him, soothingly rubbing at his thigh and murmuring that it’s okay, that he’s doing so good. he lasts around 45 minutes, but when he cums, he promises to do better next time, to last longer. anything for you <3

sugawara kōshi; this fucking masochist. he likes it. he likes the pain. probably was the one to suggest it to you. he sits between your spread legs, back pressed to your chest with your hand stroking his dick from behind. you stroke at him until he’s so close and pull away, watching as his cock bobs desperately, and he moans for it. he’s so vocal about it, begging and pleading, but when you go to ask him if he wants to cum yet, he tells you, “no, no, i can— more, more.” he lasts 2 whole hours. it’s like, kind of scary. he does pass out after and actually scare, but he gets up a minute later with a cheeky smile like, “again?”

miya atsumu; like oikawa, he will cry and sob so fucking much, and he’ll make such a mess, but god, does he last. atsumu thrives off of praise, and having you tell him how good he’s doing for you, such a good boy, atsumu, all for me? has him drooling for it. both him, and his cock. he’ll get a little dumb halfway, almost just letting you use him, but he does whine a lot, crying and pleading for you to let him cum, but it’s all bark and no bite. it barely has anything to it. i firmly believe he’d be one of top, lasting around an hour and 30 minutes, just because atsumu gets so lost in everything, including giving up control.

kuroo tetsurō; another one to last mainly out of spite. he wants to prove to you it’s not much, it’s not that bad, it’s easy work. you quickly make him eat his words by the third time you pull away, and it just dawns on him that he’s the one that put himself in this position in the first place. it’s no one’s fault but his own, and because he doesn’t wanna seem like a coward, backing out so quick, he lasts at least 30 minutes, and gets through it without begging, only spitting out curses and panting and groaning deeply.

akaashi keiji; sweet boy keiji definitely lasts, all for you. he’s not too vocal either, just light curses to himself, muffled moans, broken, bitten down sobs. he genuinely does love to let you have your fun with him, because submitting to you is just so satisfying. and i can see akaashi loving edging so much because of how good the orgasm that eventually comes is. like the moment you give him permission to, he’s seeing stars, and it’s why he lasts as long as he does, why he tries to push for longer. he lasts a good 45 minutes, and he’s been trying to beat that record for a while now. don’t worry, he will.

sakusa kiyoomi; is so fucked out, so far gone, to the point that you don’t even think he’s in control of his own body anymore. even if you told him to cum, he wouldn’t. he’s so deep in this headspace of being under your control it’s incredible. it’s mesmerizing. he looks so pretty, cock so red and wet and hard as ever, painfully so, against his pale skin, twitching and bobbing and begging for attention. he lasts 40 minutes. it’s the most gorgeous 40 minutes of both your lives.

asahi azumane; so good! such a good boy!!! doesn’t last so long, but definitely tries his best for you. it’s some 20 or so minutes in that he cums, but he immediately starts chanting out apologies, begging for you to forgive him, to give him another chance. he continues to try until he can last so long, but it’s the fact that he’s willing to that has your heart soaring and your body heating up.

HAIKYUU BOYS THAT CANNOT, WHATSOEVER, HANDLE EDGING

bokuto kōtarō; baby boy is crying 10 minutes in. he can’t handle it. if you tie him up, he’ll rip through them, flip you over, and fuck into you till he’s filling you up. he won’t even try. he watched a porn video where a person lasted an hour and thought, oh must be worth it, and asked you to try it on him. just. it’s just not for him. he prefers the pain of overstimulation over edging, forever.

iwaizumi hajime; please he lasts like 2 minutes. he just hates it so much. on him, at least. he can edge you for hours, and he’d the most satisfied man on earth. but sit between his legs and tease him by sucking at his cock, only to pull away just as he’s about to cum? somebody clearly has a death wish <3 but do bring it up and ask to try it! he still won’t last lol. but make him last. watch him cry. make iwaizumi hajime cry. make him. it’s beautiful.

kageyama tobio; mannnn kageyama can cum untouched, hands free, if you really tried. grind down against him for a minute and he’s cumming in his pants for you. he has no concept of orgasm control whatsoever, and if you tried it on him he’d just get angry at you??? like fine no sex for u tf. he lasts a good 5 minutes, so good for him or whatever.

kozume kenma; he wants to last. he wants to. but you have him crying, sobbing, 20 minutes in, and he just unintentionally spills down your throat without warning. of course, you’d felt the twitch of his cock, but you’d wanted to see where his head was at exactly. after he came, he felt so humiliated, but he still forced eye contact with you and went, “do it again. i’ll last an hour this time.” like ok no problem for me :)

ushijima wakatoshi; doesn’t realize he’s being edged, and when you pull away just as he’s about to cum he sits up and stares at you with a deadpan face like, “that was not very nice of you.” he just. finds it boring honestly. he doesn’t want to drag something out like that for so long. he indulges you, sure, but for like 3 minutes, before he’s like alright time to fuck you.

hinata shōyō; hinata’s just way too overexcited. he really does put his mind to it, but i think he gets too in his head about it that he just ends up cumming right away. but it’s a ruined orgasm, cause you pull away just as he’s cumming, so it’s so not satisfying, but for some reason, hinata loved it? so yeah, lasts 0 seconds, but discovers new kink!

HAIKYUU BOYS THAT CAN, BUT JUST DON’T WANT TO

suna rintarō; oh he most definitely can. you cannot convince me he wouldn’t be able to. as much as suna is lazy, he’s just as impatient, and he can barely handle how foreplay seems to drag on forever. he wants to be inside you, and he wants to be inside you now. it’s ridiculous. if he could though, he’d last a good hour probably. he just really doesn’t want to.

daichi sawamura; could 100% do it if he really put his mind to it, but just. why? what’s the point of not orgasming? he just doesn’t get it </3 you can try to convince him by making him do it on you, but chances are he’s gonna realize how much he loves to do it to you only. daichi’s so possessive it’s crazy, and he gets this mischievous glint in his eye whenever he realizes how good something makes you feel, especially if it’s pain. he is a dangerous man.

miya osamu; most definitely would be able to last hours, but again, he just doesn’t want to. it’s also not one of those situations where he prefers overstimulation either. like osamu’s plenty kinky, sure, but those two aren’t what cross his mind when you say, “let’s change things up a bit.” it’s not that he gets bored of it either. he just. doesn’t wanna do it. like he can spend time making you feel good, and vice versa, with way more different things. and he seems like a very in the moment guy, like choking you in the moment or making you squirt. yk :)

satori tendō; oh tendō loves edging, just on you. he never really gives you a chance to ever try to with him, honestly. he just loves, loves, loves to edge you, but not because he wants to purposefully hurt you, but rather to praise you, to tell you how good you are for him, to make you feel so good when he finally lets you cum. if you were to edge him, he’d honestly probably last over two hours. like not even exaggerating, he probably would. but no, you’re more fun!

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lambden · 3 years ago

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1 or/and 22, geraskier? <33

"I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice." T, 1.4K, no warnings Drabble list!

They can’t afford the steep cost of cider and the local brews are so terrible that they’d be better off drinking drowner piss. Jaskier, taking a cue from his days as a careless and carefree young noble, sneaks into the kitchen of the town’s brothel so as to raid their stock of cheap, sour white cooking wine. He tucks a bottle into the flowy fabric of his sleeve and on his way out, bows politely to the madam. Her thin eyebrows rise quickly but she does not follow him into the street.

Jaskier finds his companion in no time and easily falls into step with Geralt, who looks about as pleased to see Jaskier exiting a brothel as could be expected. But then the witcher’s pretty nose flares as he sniffs the air and by extension, Jaskier, and a strange light enters his eyes. “Unproductive day?”

“I’d hardly say so,” Jaskier preens, revealing the bottle with a flourish and presenting it to the witcher. Geralt takes it, immediately rolling the wine in his palm to read the label like the asshole he is. “That’s hardly vintage— it’s likely gone off, actually, but seeing as we’re in the middle of nowhere it might be the best we can get. You looked like you needed to cut loose!”

Geralt, in fact, still looks like he needs to cut loose. He’s stiff as a board as he uncorks the wine, and although the pale and sharp odour sends a twitch through his features, he takes a luxuriantly long sip. Jaskier watches, smiling distractedly, and when Geralt has his fill he wipes his mouth dry on his glove before passing the bottle.

The wine is a poor replacement for what they really want, which in Jaskier’s case is a specific vintage that they served in Cintra. That dry and sweet taste is nowhere to be found in this bottle of near-poison, but it’s free (well, stolen) and free things always taste better. He gulps down the alcohol, eyelids fluttering as he does.

When he finishes, gasping silently and sighing as his throat bobs, Jaskier opens his eyes to find Geralt watching him. The witcher’s pupils are blown wide and his lips are wet; he must just have bitten them. He watches Jaskier for far, far too long a moment; he must not even realize he’s staring.

“Shit wine,” Jaskier comments, amused and thrilled, and Geralt turns to glance away as though nothing ever happened.

“If I ever suggest anything this stupid again,” whines Jaskier, stars pricking in the corners of his eyes every time a new wave of soreness passes through him, “then you must shoot me right between the eyes with your crossbow. In fact, do it right now so as to end my misery! I’ll give you every last coin in my purse.”

“Witchers don’t take contracts on humans,” Geralt recites, sounding far too entertained by this for Jaskier’s liking. The witcher is stretched out on his bedroll, looking comfortable as fuck. The rough day of travel hasn’t impacted him at all, thanks to the expensive Nilfgaardian saddle he’s got on his trusty fucking steed. “Besides, didn’t you say you were a good rider?”

“Not bareback,” he grouses. “And yes, I hear the innuendo, very clever, Geralt. Shoot me.”

His companion hums infuriatingly and draws no weapon, leaving Jaskier to his agony. With tremendous effort he wiggles out of his trousers, kicking them and his stockings across the campground without watching where they land. They could land in the fire for all he cares; he’s so horribly chafed that he doesn’t think he’ll be able to wear pants for at least a week without wincing.

Jaskier uncorks the small bottle of peppermint oil that he usually uses after bathing and slathers it over his palms and between his fingers. Then, too sore to feel shame, he reaches right for his poor reddened thighs and massages the oil into the skin there. The resulting groan is entirely involuntary. He doesn’t even care how he sounds, too busy working the oil into the muscles of each leg and letting his body finally, finally relax.

When his knuckle digs into a particularly sore spot high on his thigh Jaskier keens, gasping quietly and bending forward over his lap. In the very next instant Geralt jumps to his feet, and Jaskier frowns. He would fear an oncoming attack if not for how Geralt’s hands are tightly pinned to his sides— a distinctly unwitchery pose. Without pulling his fingers away from his surely bruised thighs, Jaskier asks, “Something the matter?”

“I need to collect potion ingredients,” Geralt utters, sounding the most rehearsed that Jaskier has ever heard him. He looks back over his shoulder and his gaze dips down to the bard’s bare legs, as well as his slick fingers working between his thick, rosy thighs.

Jaskier has the unique, first-hand experience of watching a witcher choke on their own spit. He doesn’t stop massaging his sore legs, but he does lift his head to properly stare back at Geralt, who has yet to pick up his jaw from where he dropped it. “Pity. You could have helped me with some of the hard-to-reach spots.”

“We need more firewood,” Geralt barks, nearly before Jaskier is done speaking. He storms off, leaving Jaskier to massage his legs on his own and wonder exactly how they’ve gotten themselves into this delightful mess.

“Go to sleep, Jaskier.”

“I can’t. I’m composing.”

This is the sort of composition that his old instructors would have raked him over the coals for indulging. The window is too small and the room too dark, so even if he wanted to write something, he’d need to light a candle and locate some paper and ink.

Instead, he and his companion lie side by side on the narrow mattress without touching. The sounds of revelry from downstairs have not yet subsided, but neither witcher nor bard is in a social mood. “Today wasn’t exactly the stuff of legend,” Geralt grunts.

Perhaps his attempt at providing some levity for their awful night, but Jaskier is too riled up to appreciate it. “Untrue,” he seethes. “There is poetry to be found in everything, even the most awful, excruciating days spent dealing with close-minded, small-brained bigots.”

“You can write your poetry tomorrow. Sleep.”

“What’s a good rhyme for stupid bastard prick?”

For nearly half a beat Geralt considers it. Then he remembers himself, grumbling in the usual churlish tone he adopts when he doesn’t want Jaskier to press things, “People get scared for their families, their homes. They’re afraid of what they don’t understand; that’s all.”

Jaskier, unfortunately, has never been very good at not pressing things. “Right, fine, but how does him being an utter dickhead help protect his family? He had no idea what he was talking about anyway! You’re not a monster!”

“Some of—”

“Don’t even start, I cannot go through this again—”

“Some of their hatred is based in fear, or in fact,” mumbles Geralt, as patiently as he might explain it to a child.

Jaskier bristles despite himself. “Right. Well. I’m not contesting your fertility, but that wasn’t what he meant either. He described you like a creature incapable of desire of feeling.”

The witcher just says, “Not too far off.”

They’ve repaved the same path of this argument so many times that the road is smooth, and where once Jaskier’s heart stung at the idea that Geralt could ever doubt himself in such a way, now he just feels a sort of bitter warmth. He huffs, nearly amused. “Geralt, I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I won’t notice. You’re not incapable.”

There is no motion or movement in the darkness between them, not even when Jaskier turns to strain his eyes and stare. Geralt lies completely still on the far side of the bed— it hadn’t seemed far until the pair of them stopped talking, and now there might as well be an ocean between them. Jaskier suddenly fears that he might have fucked everything up by addressing the unaddressed and pulling their bond into the light for both of them to consider. He fears, too, that if he falls asleep now, the witcher will sneak away in the night and Jaskier won’t see him until next season.

Finally, Geralt moves. He doesn’t climb out of bed, instead shifting closer on the mattress. It takes very little effort at all for him to pull Jaskier into his arms, and it takes even less for Jaskier to curl into him, heart pounding for a different reason than it was a minute ago. Geralt doesn’t say a word but Jaskier somehow knows he’s smiling, and a missing piece of their puzzle slides into place.

#geraskier fic #geraskier #my writing #anonymous #drabble meme #cannot by rights call this a drabble OOPS #i had a lot of fun with this one though!!! i care them!!!#asks

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greatgreedyhandfuls · 2 years ago

Text

Deep and Shorn Raw

Hello OFMD sneezblr!! This is my debut, after many years of lurking in various fandoms. Made a side blog just to post this and begin to participate! :)

Here’s nearly 4k of clingy emotional sick person Edward Teach, featuring plentiful h/c, reluctant caretaker Lucius and incredibly enthusiastic, protective caretaker Stede. It’s set in a vanilla modern au I posted on A03, which is very h/c centric as well- if anyone is interested dm me and I’ll drop you a link! You’ll be able to follow it just fine without having read that though

I’d like to dedicate this to softersteve and straightupsickfics whose supply of wonderful, soft Blackbonnet fic has sustained me these last few months.

Enjoy! And please do let me know what you think, this is only my second sneezefic- all comments are welcome, even naughty ones. I am dyslexic, so please tell me if there are typos!

~~~

The sneeze waxes and wanes, teasing mercilessly. Ed tips his head back into the arm of the couch, panting through his mouth, nose far too blocked to breathe through. He shakes out a handkerchief- his favorite microfiber one that Stede had embroidered ‘Edward’ onto the corner of with two crooked little hearts- with trembling hands.

“Oh my god, can you just sneeze already?” Lucius complains, from the other side of the room where he sits, fully masked and sporting a pair of latex gloves, perched stiffly on the arm chair.

At the moment, he is Ed’s temporary, and extremely reluctant, caretaker. Stede has been off two hours away at an unskippable custody meeting with Mary, and, unwilling to leave his sick husband alone for most of the day, coerced Lucius into staying with Ed. There may have been blackmail involved. Ed would object to being babysat, if not for the fact that every time he sits up he almost passes out.

“I’m- try-t- hee-ah-hunh,” Ed gasps. He nearly has it at a fierce spike of the tickle, but it fucks off in the last second, distracted by Lucius’s pestering. He massages his very sore, very pink nose and shoots Lucius a watery glare. “I’m fucking trying.”

All at once the itch rushes from a dormant prickle to and out right stabbing somewhere in the depths of his swollen sinuses. Ed sucks in an enormous breath and shoots forward into the handkerchief with three massive sneezes, tripping over each other to get out.

“ErTCHhUHh! Hirhh-ERSHH! H’ERhhshhiiEw!

“That’s absolutely vile, I hope you know.”

“Fuck off,” Ed snaps, though it’s dubiously comprehensible through the congestion. Those had done his handkerchief in, unfortunately. He loves that thing, loves that Stede made it for him, loves how soft it is, and that using it almost makes him feel like Stede is with him even though he isn’t. That thought kind of makes Ed want to cry and the prickling at his eyes only gets his nose running even worse. “Can you grab me some tissues man, this is shot.”

“Fine,” Lucius huffs and gets up to rummage through the front hall closet. He returns moments later with a box of puffs, the extra soft fancy kind, thankfully- his nose is raw enough as is without subjecting it to something scratchy. Instead of handing it to Ed however, Lucius chucks them roughly at his head. Ed, reflexes fever slow, fumbles, barely managing to catch them as they bounce off his chin.

All of a sudden he’s fucking pissed, the anger revving up well traveled channels in his gut. Pissed at Lucius for being difficult about everything, pissed at Stede for not being here right now, pissed at himself for being sick and needy. He hurls the box right back at Lucius, as hard as he can. Despite the fever weighing him down, he turns it into an effective projectile weapon. Lucius yelps and jumps out of the way.

The box thuds dully on the carpet and rolls twice underneath the armchair Lucius had been sitting on. They both stare at it.

The anger floods away- he has no energy to sustain it. In its place he feels lonely and small and foolish-everything hurts and he’s woozy and his entire head itches and he wants Stede. His lip trembles and he swipes frantically at his eyes. When that fails to stem the tears, he turns away from Lucius, into the back of the couch, to mop at his face with the blanket.

“Fuck. I’m being a bit of a bitch aren’t I?” Lucius concedes, and there’s the rustling sound of him kneeling on the carpet to retrieve the tissue box. “I forgot you’re actually miserable, not just annoying.”

The last part is said under his breath and mostly to himself, though Ed hears it easily. He stares daggers at the couch, the weave of the fabric rippling and wobbling in the lens of his blurry vision.

“Sorry. Look, I’ll try to be a little nicer. Not only because if Stede finds out I made you cry he’s going to castrate me. Metaphorically, probably, but no guarantees,” Lucius says as he sits heavily on the loveseat next to the couch, “You’re also sort of my friend. I guess.”

Ed tentatively peers over his shoulder to find Lucius holding out the tissue box to him gently, though still leaning as far away as the extension of his arm allows.

“Suppose you’re mine too.” Ed acquiesces, and takes it from him. He tugs one out and scrubs at his face with it, flopping back onto his mound of pillows, “And you didn’t make me cry.”

“Ah, so I’m imagining you leaking from your eyes in addition to your nose, is that what we’re going with?”

“No. That’s not-I mean you’re not exactly helping but-” Ed sighs, and in the absence of his beard tucks most of his face under the blankets so the truth will be easier to speak, “It’s just-I. I feel like dogshit and I want my fucking husband alright?”

“Oh, that’s uh,” Lucius fumbles, “Fuck. Sorry.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Ed says weakly, not really meaning it. He’s, ok, well he’s a bit of a baby when he’s sick. Or at least, he’s come to let himself be, after a lifetime of holding back the need, now that he has Stede to take care of him. The attention Stede heaps on him-endlessly gentle, patient and protective- is something he craves with a viciousness as old as he is, thrashing in a place deep and shorn raw in his soul. He tosses his used tissues vaguely in the direction of the garbage can in the corner and fiddles with the tassels on the edge of the blanket forlornly.

“I’m not picking that up,” Lucius informs him, though without much bite. He reaches out and gives Ed’s blanket covered knee an awkward, consoling pat. “Stede’s been texting me like every five minutes to check on you, you know.”

“He has?”

“Yup! It’s driving me insane, that’s a lot of why I’ve been so fed up, which isn’t fair to you really. He just keeps pestering me; ‘Did you give Edward his medicine, has he eaten, is he drinking electrolytes, what’s his temperature, does he have enough blankets?’ It’s relentless.”

Ed smiles, ducks his head. The pressure change in his nose makes him rush a tissue to his face to sneeze fiercely into. Lucius grimaces.

“I also just really hate being around sick people.”

“Yeah, I gathered.”

Ed blows his nose into the uncomfortable silence.

“Wanna watch something?” Lucius asks.

“Sure.”

They end up flipping around channels until they land on the 1996 adaptation of Matilda. Lucius isn’t a bad movie buddy honestly, he talks through it just as much as Ed, though with a great deal more sarcasm. Ed falls asleep around thirty minutes in, mid argument about the potential practical, and explicit, applications of telekinesis.

He wakes to the sound of the front door opening, gritty and disoriented.

“I’m home!” Stede sing-songs from the entryway. His footsteps tap closer as Ed’s muzzy brain pieces together that sentence. As soon as he does he scrambles up off the couch, wanting nothing more than to fling himself into Stede’s arms. His vision promptly goes gray and he’s swaying dangerously as Stede rounds the corner.

“How is my favorite patient d- Ed!” Stede bolts to his side just in time, catching him soundly in a hug. Ed sags into him, dizzy and relieved in a way that rearranges his insides. His eyes begin to well, spilling over into the crisp fabric of Stede’s suit. Stede tenses as he notices the tears dampen his skin and makes a wounded noise, holding Ed tighter. “Oh my love it’s alright, I’m right here, shh shh.”

Ed clings, letting Stede guide them back down to the couch. He crawls into Stede’s lap as soon as they’re sitting, wanting never to let go. He wishes he could smell him. He burrows his nose in anyway, nuzzling into Stede’s neck, only for the fine lace trim on his collar to tease the sensitive edges of his nostril and send him gasping.

Unwilling to lift his face from the refuge of Stede’s chest and unable to resist the oncoming sneeze he ducks to stifle it in Stede’s shirt. One turns into two quickly, followed by a third that holds him captive, hitching breaths hot and damp in the little nook he’s made for himself under Stede’s collar bone. Stede strokes his back, hushing him, and kissing the damp crown of his head.

“Oh wow, bless you sweetheart, are we feeling tickly?”

Ed nods against him, sniffling urgently. He sneezes once more, a thick and desperate “Hee- huhhESHiiew!” that he doesn’t manage to stifle.

“Goodness, poor thing. Here, let's get you cleaned up,” Stede murmurs, and manifests a fresh handkerchief from his suit pocket. He lifts Ed’s heavy head, meeting his glassy gaze with a worried little pinch between his brows, and wipes carefully under Ed’s eyes, at his cheeks. He tents the cloth around Ed’s nose and the gentle touch there makes Ed seize up with a breathless little “hurschuh!” into Stede’s covered hand.

Stede tuts sympathetically, and waits for Ed to clear himself into the handkerchief, which he does with practiced obedience, too exhausted and grateful to have Stede tending to him to care that Lucius is still there. Lucius however, definitely cares that Lucius is still there.

“Yeah, yup, I’m super good on seeing any more of-” Lucius waves a hand at them intertwined, Stede fussing over Ed’s nose. “-all of this. Ed- it’s been not entirely unpleasant, feel better. Stede, make someone else do this next time, thanks.”

Stede pulls back with a final wipe and pockets the handkerchief.

“Cheers mate,” Ed says and rolls his eyes again, coughing a little to clear his throat. He makes a jab at sincerity. “Thanks for staying with me.”

“You’re welcome or whatever,” Lucius responds, clearly more touched than he wants to let on, “I’d say it was my pleasure, but it really wasn’t.”

“I’d like to second that. Thank you very, very much Lucius.” Stede, still petting Ed’s hair, sounds a great deal more effusive about it than Ed did. “But barring an emergency, there’s not going to be a next time.”

Ed doesn’t love the guilty edge to Stede’s voice, but he can get behind not having to be apart from him when he’s sick unless the sky is fucking falling.

“Works for me. See you two soon,” Lucius calls from over his shoulder, already almost down the hall, eager to get out of their germ infested house. The front door opens and closes decisively.

Ed is still sniffling, so Stede coaxes him into clearing his nose out again. He gets himself lying down next to Ed, and Ed snuggles in, nice and close with his head on Stede’s chest, pliant and shivery in his arms. Stede kisses his head again and sighs.

“I shouldn’t have left you. I should have put my foot down with the lawyers, insisted we do another day.”

“It’s ok,” Ed mumbles, playing with the silk lining of Stede’s suit jacket, a bright emerald green that compliments the rich forest color of the exterior, so dark it’s almost black.

“It’s not! You’re ill, and you needed me.” He pushes the hair away from Ed’s face, kisses his forehead. “I’m so sorry Edward.”

Ed attempts to stop the little sob that tries to quiver up his throat, but it makes it out anyway.

“Oh my darling,” Stede laments, and pulls him in tight, guiding Ed to hide his too hot face in his throat, “Shh, shh, I’m here. You’re ok, I have you now.”

Stede rocks them, gliding his fingers through Ed’s hair over and over with one hand and rubbing circles over his spine with the other.

“It was important,” Ed croaks once he’s calmed down a bit, “I get it.”

Stede shakes his head, squeezes him tighter.

“There is not a thing in this world more important to me than you.”

Ed stills, throttled by the implications of that.

“You can’t mean-”

“I do. I realize it makes me more of a spectacularly shit father than I already have been, but,” he pulls back to cup Ed’s face in his hands, taking him in- unusually pale and blotchy from the fever and the tears, cracked skin above his lips and around his once again dripping nose, wet, bruised looking streaks under his eyes- and seems to process it all with welling adoration, “I love you more than anything. More than reason. Alright?”

Ed nods jerkily, unable to say it back through the lump in his throat. He leans in to kiss him, because he can’t not, and also so he doesn’t start crying again. A few tears slip down his face anyway, his resistance fever worn. Stede just admitted to loving him more than his children, something that, in all their years together, he’s never said out loud. Ed’s suspected but- this. He’s not an unselfish person; he feels a little giddy, a little like a dragon clutching at a hoard of gold.

Stede’s nose taps his gently and Ed rears back with a startling sneeze he doesn’t manage quite to catch. Between the light touch, the constant low grade tickle and the tears upsetting the delicate equilibrium of his sinuses, it spirals into another fit.

“UH-tshh! Hihh-ersHH! ETCHcchhh-uhh! H’uhhshhiiew! Huh-he-”

The vibration of each sneeze seems to set off the next. In a momentary lull he presses his nose into Stede’s chest in an attempt to get it to stop, nostrils twitching helplessly against sleek fabric. The lack of friction does little and he lifts his head, eyes half mast and mouth tugging open with each little gasp. Stede works a few more tissues into his hands and tucks the short wavy hairs that frame his face, which keep drifting to his nose and egging him on further, behind his ears.

“HuhhTCHusshh’oo! ithurschuh! H’uhh… TCHushhiew! Hhhh…” Ed moans, waiting for an overwhelming final, “HEH-hh-RRRiSHSHH-oooh!"

Ed blinks in the aftermath, dazed, the world spinning wildly.

“Bless you, poor honey,” Stede all but coos. Ed flings his sodden tissues at the trash and whines, turning to launch himself back fully into Stede, who makes a few more of those gentle shushing noises that turn Ed to butter. “You seem worse than this morning. Has it been this bad all day?”

“On and off,” Ed rasps into Stede’s neck.

“God, my poor sweet thing. I should have been there,” Stede insists again.

“You’re here now,” Ed breathes, pleased and a little awestruck as he always is, to be so cared for.

“And you’re not getting rid of me until you’re better,” Stede proclaims, pressing yet another kiss to Ed’s damp hair. Ed grins hugely, hidden in Stede’s shirt, which is surely going to need to be dry-cleaned after all this.

“I know Lucius wasn’t thrilled to be here, I do hope he wasn’t too sharp with you,” Stede inquires, faux casual. There’s a knife hidden in that sentence Ed is sure.

“He was fine, mostly,” Ed tells him cautiously.

“Mostly?” Stede asks, innocent and deadly.

Lucius may have had a point about the castration. For the sake of Lucius’ dick, beloved by many in their community, he abstains from mentioning the tissue box incident, or grand amounts of bitching that preceded it.

“Seriously babe, he complained, but kept me fed and medicated, got shit for me. We even managed to bond a bit. No need to torture him.” Ed drops a kiss on Stede’s chest.

“I would never.”

Ed snorts at that: he knows exactly what kind of conniving, petty bastard he married- that was part of the appeal. The disturbance in the air through his nose however, proves to be a mistake quickly, sending the tickle bucking back up.

“hhehh’IYSSCh’hh! H’uhh… huh!” Ed pants, eyebrows knotting together, eyelashes fluttering, “uhh— hrrUSHH’uuhh!

“Bless you darling,” Stede soothes with his lips brushing Ed’s forehead, handing him more tissues, “So sensitive.”

“It itches like h-he hhUSCH’uhhh! Ngg. Like hell. Fucking everywhere too, under my eyes, in my ears. Kind of want to claw my face off.”

“It’s such a lovely face, we can’t have that.”

“Dunno,” Ed says, transparently fishing, but also sort of needing the reassurance after his last depressing encounter with the bathroom mirror, “Pretty sure I look like death warmed over.”

“You look beautiful,” Stede delivers swiftly and sincerely, punctuating it with a kiss to Ed’s cheekbone, and two more after each of his next compliments, “Dazzling. Devastating.”

“If you say so,” Ed laughs, trying for off-handed, but he’s gone all giggly and soft under Stede’s ministrations. Stede has a way of getting him belly-up with very little effort.

“I certainly do.”

Ed settles back down on top of him, content despite his pounding, stuffy head. Stede continues to smooth his hair in comfortable silence.

“You’re due for another dose of medicine in about,” Stede says after a bit, lifting his wrist to glance at his watch, “Fifteen minutes. How about once we get that fever down we hop in the steam shower? Might help you breathe a little easier.”

“Sounds great. I've been wanting to all day, but I thought if I was alone I’d probably pass out and brain myself on the tile. Be a pretty lame way to go out,” he says and feels Stede’s fingers spasm in his hair at the thought, “Mind, getting me naked might’ve been something Lucius would have actually been happy to help with.”

Stede laughs, and it vibrates through Ed, warming him to his core. He’s joking really, mostly to keep Stede from anxiously spiralling over the idea of Ed dying alone in their bathroom. Lucius is a habitual flirt of course, but has never once hit on Ed; at first too intimidated by him and then, upon getting to know him, too perpetually annoyed. There was also the fact that Ed only had eyes for Stede, something Lucius, ever observant to these kinds of things, was aware of before either of them were.

“He wouldn’t dare. You’re all mine,” Stede teases back, though to Ed’s delight, under the needling tone he clearly means it.

“Damn right I am,” Ed agrees happily. He sneezes again, harsh and itchy, trapped between Stede and the blankets. “HttCHSHSH’U! Ugh. Massive amounts of snot and all.”

“You know I don’t mind darling,” Stede assures, kissing Ed’s forehead when he’s through dealing with his nose, “I’m still thoroughly charmed by you, I promise.”

“Yeah?” Ed asks, smiling a stupidly love struck thing that feels too big for his face.

“Yes.”

He levers himself up on Stede’s chest enough to kiss him properly, cupping his face. Stede kisses back in great hungry pulls, undeterred by Ed’s sniffling, and chases after his lips, magnetised, when Ed has to break it in order to breathe. Ed coughs, trying to get enough air in.

“You’re so unfairly gorgeous in this suit. Striding in and fucking catching me, all heroic like. And I’m too stuffed up to do anything about it.”

He pouts.

“Hhmm I don’t know. We might be able to work something out. Endorphins do have extraordinary healing properties,” Stede muses, “Maybe in the shower, once you’re breathing better. I don’t like how heavy that sounds.”

Ed perks up, anticipation bursting through the malaise, amazed to be desired even in the state he’s in.

“Really? Fuck yeah, I could get behind that.”

“Excellent.” Stede leans down to give him one more deep, quick kiss. “I’m going to be very, very gentle with you, and you’ll have to be patient. Do you think you could do that for me, love?”

Ed makes a suckerpunched noise and nods vigorously, once again forgetting to account for the pressure changes of the movement. He interrupts the bubbling heat between them by sneezing in a frantic little fit.

“huhUHH—hhhuh’RRSCH’mph! httchshShhh’u! “hh! Hh! Huh’edtsshh!”

“Easy darling, in and out, I’ve got you,” Stede hushes, stroking his cheek as Ed struggles to catch his breath, “Why don’t I go grab your medicine now, it should be fine to take a few minutes early.”

Stede starts to extricate himself, but Ed shakes his head quickly, pinning him with his weight and grabbing on tight. He has to crush another sneeze against his arm.

“Let’s stay like this a little longer,” he implores, then looks away from Stede’s concerned eyes to admit, “I- I don’t want you to let me go yet.” Or ever.

“Oh my dearest,” Stede whispers, sounding overwhelmed, “I’ll hold you as long as you like. Forever, if that’s what it takes.”

“Forever sounds pretty good,” Ed says, lingering tension bleeding out of him in a long breath.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

They will actually need to leave their cocoon at some point soon- Ed’s fever is already creeping back up, and it’s only going to boil higher the longer he waits to take the meds. Stede probably wants to get out of his suit and goad Ed into drinking more water. There is, of course, promised sexy times and a long soak in the steam shower to look forward to.

But for now, they stay like this; wrapped up in each other, quiet and warm, the steady beat of Stede’s heart under Ed’s ear the only sound in the world.

#@straightupsickfics #@softersteve #sneezefic #I have no idea how to tag this without it being found by the main fandom

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itsamejin · 4 years ago

Text

easy || jungkook angst/fluff

Summary: Date you, win a bet, get his rent paid off. Sounds promising enough, right? Jungkook should’ve known that his ambitions would end in disaster, but even if he did, that still wouldn’t have stopped him from pursuing you.

Warning: cursing, crude humor, fuckboy talk

Genre: college!au, fuckboy!au, bet!trope, angst, fluff

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Premise: In which Jungkook accepts a bet from Taehyung to date the first girl that walks into the lecture hall and realizes that he bit off more than he could chew when starts to catch feelings. Now, he has to suffer the consequences of being an idiot.

Commission Request: @altus-gens

Word Count: 9,203 words

—

It's not like Jungkook planned to be one of the most sought after person in Yonsei University, but it somehow turned out to be that way. Truthfully, he basks in it, loves that so many people idolize him for doing the bare minimum. He was handsome after all and had a level of charm that surpassed the need to have a good personality.

He got into such a prestigious school through an athletic scholarship for Taekwondo, managed to convince his professors to pass him when he put in minimal effort, and there was no shortage of girls to call when he was feeling lonely for a night. He was the stereotypical 'it' boy on campus and maybe if he was a little bit smarter, he'd have a better choice of friends than the six idiots he always hangs around with.

"How about this," Taehyung starts, gum in his mouth, "the first girl who walks in, you have to successfully get in her pants."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. They were in a damn lecture hall and yet Taehyung had no shame bringing up sex. Typical.

“This again, bro?” Hoseok sighed. “Aren’t you sick of bribing us to do weird shit for you?”

Taehyung smirked.

“Not at all, actually.”

"For how much?" Namjoon cut in, probably curious for the price point Taehyung would arrange this time. He was fired from his job just a week ago and could really use the money. "I'll do it if it’s enough to pay for my rent this month."

Taehyung scoffs, although knowing full well he could pay for all of the boys’ tuitions combined if he wanted to. He was the resident rich bachelor on campus after all.

"I'll pay it for a full year and your utility bills too if you're really down," Taehyung flaunts. "You just gotta have proof you actually managed to do it."

"Dude that's gross," Seokjin chimes in, "No one wants to send you proof of us doing it with a random girl."

Taehyung shakes his head.

"No, no, no," he says, clicking his tongue. "I phrased it incorrectly. I’m not a fucking pervert."

“You got us fooled,” Jimin mutters.

Taehyung leans in closer to the six boys and even Jungkook finds himself getting intrigued. Admittedly, he was a little curious considering he hasn't had a proper meal in weeks. He could really use having some extra cash for food without worrying about rent.

"You have to date the girl for like three months," Taehyung says seriously, "and I'll consider that as enough proof that you managed to actually do it since I know you guys are too horny to wait any longer than that to fuck."

They all look at Taehyung in disgust, Jimin even opting to hit him in the back of the head for being so vulgar. To be fair, they were all thinking of accepting Taehyung's bet regardless. It's not like they were new to leading girls on anyway.

"You gotta pay me more than that to fuck just any girl," Yoongi says, yawning in the process. He seemed the least likely to take up Taehyung's offer, but he was still game depending on the person.

"Then how would you feel," Taehyung starts, "if I told you guys that I could get you priority registration for next quarter."

The boys, even the ones who weren't interested, were now listening to Taehyung's every word.

"You mean," Hoseok gulps, "I could finally get that fucking Organic Chemistry class I need to get out of this hell hole?!"

Taehyung shrugs, an ominous smile on his face.

"Just the perk of having parents who have connections," Taehyung replies. “I’ll only accept one of you guys to do it though. I don’t wanna have you all fucking the same girl- that’d be weird.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what’s weird about this,” he grumbles.

“So are you guys in or not?” Taehyung asks, his patience growing thin.

He lays back on his chair, a smoldering look on his face when they all nod. They were desperate for money after all.

"The next girl that walks in will be the subject of this bet and whoever calls dibs on her first will be the one to woo her,” he says with a stretch of his arms. “Good luck boys.”

They all turned to look at the door and Jungkook watches silently as guy after guy walks into the lecture hall. No girl yet.

Jungkook was hoping, from the bottom of his heart, that no familiar faces would walk in. If he had to deal with a past fling, he’d have to back out immediately. He never dealt with exes very well.

The guys are at the edge of their seats, praying for a cute girl to walk through that didn’t already know about their horrible reputation. They were looking for an easy target, someone that could fall for their charms almost immediately.

And then, you walk in. You were clad in sweats with earphones on, rushing toward the front row seats of the lecture hall. You were chatting with your friends, yawning several times throughout your conversation with them. Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk. There was nothing special about you to point out, in fact, you were just like everyone else. Strangely enough, he found that the most intriguing part about you.

"Nope, nope, nope," Jimin shakes his head repeatedly. "Can't, won't, never will. Sorry, Tae."

They all stare at him in confusion.

"What the fuck, what's wrong with her?" Yoongi asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Jimin faces away from you, not wanting to look at you any longer.

"No, nothing," there seems to be a blush forming on his face. He was hiding something.

“Bullshit,” Taehyung furrows his brows. “Bro, if she’s crazy and one of us gets our dick bitten off, we’re all blaming you, so spit it out.”

Jimin just sighs.

"She's been giving me Professor Kwon’s notes for the past few weeks,” he starts, much to the confusion of his friends. “Her name is [Y/N]. It'll be really mean if I go after her, especially since she and I are kind of friends. Plus, I really need to pass this class. I failed last quarter..."

The boys groan. Jimin was no fun.

"She's not my type so I don't think I could really get into it either," Seokjin states, no longer interested in the prize after Jimin’s confession. He’s been banking off of your notes from him too.

"Aren’t we all old enough to know not to mess with people’s feelings?" Hoseok sighs.

They roll their eyes at Hoseok’s statement. Who was he trying to fool with the nice guy act? He probably fooled around with girls just as much as the other guys did.

"Yeah, I’m backing out," Yoongi agrees, "and she hates me so there's that."

They all look at him questioningly and he puts his hands up in the air from their gazes.

"What? I just realized who she’s talking to down there.”

He pointed at a girl discreetly, but no one seemed to recognize her.

“Her friend and I dated,” Yoongi continues, “and I broke up with her over text and blocked her without letting her respond. That whole friend group is pretty much pissed at me. I'd rather not have to deal with them again."

The guys look disapprovingly at him. Breaking up over text was harsh, but probably not the worst thing Yoongi has done to his exes.

"You're actually a piece of shit," Namjoon sighs. "I really do need my rent paid though..."

Jungkook nods in agreement. It's been almost impossible to balance Taekwondo practices, college papers, and working a part-time job all at once. If he could somehow find a way to quit his job for a while and get priority registration for classes, then he doesn't mind getting his hands a little dirty in the process. Plus, you were cute enough and he's sure you weren't too difficult to befriend as long as he doesn't mention Yoongi in any conversations.

"I'm in," Jungkook chides, finally saying something after such a long period of silence.

They all look at him with disbelief in their eyes. Jungkook was never the one to partake in Taehyung's bets. In fact, he was the one usually ridiculing them for participating. He must have been really desperate if he was willing to do it.

"I mean, it's all yours if you want," Namjoon replies, "I don't wanna turn it into a competition.”

“Don’t worry dude,” Jungkook fist bumps Namjoon, “I’ll quit my job and refer you for it.”

They nod at each other as if they were on the same wavelength.

“I knew I could rely on you,” Namjoon says, faking tears from his eyes. The boys groan in response.

“Alright,” Taehyung claps his hands. “In exchange for providing me some mindless entertainment and going out with [Y/N], you will get your rent paid for the rest of the year and get early registration for next quarter. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“I don’t know about this, guys...”

Jungkook doesn’t hear him and instead takes one last look at you. You catch him in the corner of your eye and you can’t help but feel flustered at his serious expression.

“Should be easy enough,” he mutters to himself and turns his gaze back onto his friend.

“So we have a deal?” Taehyung asks.

He smirks, shaking the outreached hand Taehyung held out for him. He steals another glance at you and he finds you staring right back. He gives you a wink.

“Deal.”

—

Jungkook slid into the seat next to yours in the campus canteen, his eyes filled with determination. His posture was laid-back, but it was a little too obvious that he was trying to act like he didn’t care.

“Hi,” he greets you in a breathy tone- girls loved it when he spoke with his breathy tone.

“Hi?”

You’d been sensing that someone was staring at you during the lecture, but you thought that was just the paranoia that came from being near such an intimidating group of guys. Turns out, you should always trust your instincts.

Jungkook had a boyish grin on his face that made you want to smile back but also stare at him in disgust.

“I heard you help Jimin with Professor Kwon’s notes,” he whispers mischievously. “I’m struggling myself, actually...”

Not really, but you know. This was the easiest tactic to approach you- tackle your similarities. You nod understandingly at his words, not quite getting that he was flirting with you.

“Yeah I can send you the Google Drive folder,” you comply, taking your phone out. “But you can’t let Professor Kwon know or else he’ll flip out. He doesn’t want people to have the notes for some odd reason...”

You trail off but Jungkook just scoffs. You seemed clueless.

“That’s not what I necessarily meant,” he says, a little shy this time. “I need a tutor.”

You furrow your brows at him.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to pay me for that,” you say seriously. The last time you offered to tutor someone for free, they ended up blaming you for their failing grade and screaming about it all over social media. You needed money to compensate for that emotional trauma. “Microeconomics is hard to teach.”

“Well thankfully I’m a good student,” Jungkook teases. You stare at him with a deadpan face.

“You wouldn’t need my help if you were a good student,” you say blankly, standing up from your seat. “My hourly rate is 20,000 Won. Take it or leave it.”

Jungkook’s eye twitched. He had to spend his money to get Taehyung’s money? Well, the payout would be worth it in the end anyway. He reaches out a hand to you.

“If you’d have me,” he says cheekily, looking up at you. You take his hand in yours and maybe for a second you felt your heart skip a beat, but that was soon over when you let go of him.

“You have sweaty hands,” you say straightforwardly. You wipe your hand on your shirt and he coughs awkwardly at how unresponsive you truly were. Didn’t Jimin say you were a nice person?

You take your barely-touched lunch tray and walk away from his pensive figure.

“Wait, can I get your number?” he yells. You don’t look back.

“Alright, whatever,” he mumbles to himself. “I’ll just ask Jimin, I guess.”

Without even a second glance, you disappear from his sight. He sits back on his chair, heaving out a deep sigh. Sure, this wasn’t the first girl that didn’t care much for his advances, but you didn’t even crack a smile or anything. This is going to be harder than he thought...

—

“She hates me,” Jungkook whines to Seokjin as they walked down the university halls to their next shared class. “Yesterday, I went up to her to get her number and I left with a fucking debt. Does that make any sense?”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have taken on the bet,” Seokjin yawned. “Namjoon would have wooed her with his poetry by now or some shit.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s interested in a dude who can’t even put on a hat without causing an earthquake.”

Seokjin smacked him on the back.

“At least he’d have the guts to say no to having a fucking tutor,” Seokjin replies. “You dug your own grave, man. Now roll around in it.”

“Do you want me to succeed or not?”

“I want you to not be a fucking dumbass, Jungkook,” Seokjin sighs. “Do you really wanna make your reputation worse than it already is?”

Just as Jungkook was about to reply, he catches a glimpse of you walking farther ahead in the university courtyard. You were a bit far but he’s sure he could make it if he hurries. He smacks the binder he held in his right hand onto Seokjin’s chest.

“Yo, can you cover for me,” he asks hastily and Seokjin stares at him with a concerned gaze. He watches as Jungkook takes off his backpack and leaves it on the ground. Jungkook looked about ready to break out in a sprint.

“What the fuck, why?” Seokjin questions.

“Just tell the TA I’m out for a bit,” he says in response, already running ahead to catch up to you. “I’m winning this fucking bet or I’ll die trying.”

Jin stands still, mouth agape. Jungkook really left him with his backpack and binder just to talk to you. He shakes his head. ‘I need to make new friends,’ he thought to himself, picking up the discarded backpack and walking in the direction of the class Jungkook was planning to be late to.

You were walking with your earphones on, not noticing someone sprinting at you in record speed. You only turn your music off when Jungkook stops in front of you, his hands on his knees. He was panting heavily.

“Hey,” he says through deep breaths. You nod at him awkwardly.

“Why are you running?”

“I wanted to... catch up to you... and I thought... you were closer... but the run here... took... fucking... forever,” he says breathlessly. “Water. I need water.”

You take out a bottle from your tote bag hastily, handing it to him. He took it into his hands, grazing your fingers a bit. As he was about to start chugging it, you halted him.

“Waterfall,” you say curtly- you were still planning to drink out of it later after all.

He nods in response, a drop of sweat cascading the side of his neck. After he was done, there was practically no water left anyway. ‘I’m gonna have to refill it myself,’ you thought begrudgingly. You stuff it back into your bag and wait until his breaths become more even.

“A bit out of shape, huh?”

He scoffs and gives you a glare, clearly offended.

“I actually have a Taekwondo scholarship, you know that? I just wasn’t warmed up and I’m naturally sweaty so it’s not like-”

You laugh a little.

“I’m joking,” you say, a smile adorning your face. He feels his face turn red and he can’t help but purse his lips out of embarrassment. Jeon Jungkook couldn’t take a fucking joke.

“O-oh,” he says shyly, avoiding your gaze. Why was he acting more like an idiot than usual? You hear the chiming bells of the university tower and stare at your phone to check the time.

“Don’t you have a class?” you ask him. His eyes widen and soon he was dashing off again. He turns around mid-run, jogging backward to face you.

“My number is 06-1313-9197,” he yells, loud enough for the other late students in the courtyard to hear. Most of them roll their eyes, knowing that Jungkook was flirting with another girl yet again. You’re embarrassed by the amount of attention he’s getting, but punch his number on your phone anyway.

“Text me,” he shouts. “I’ll always respond to you.”

Now it was your turn to be flustered.

—

"That’s wrong,” you say, reaching over to Jungkook’s notebook and marking a large ‘X’ on his paper. “You’re not supposed to apply that function for this problem...”

Jungkook stared at you with a tired face. He didn’t think he was too bad at the mathematical aspect of Microeconomics, but it seemed like it was your life’s mission to make him look like an idiot. Of course, you caught every mistake that he made- even the ones he made on purpose just to see if you were really paying attention to his work and not bamboozling him.

“My bad,” he mutters, copying down the same problem on a different sheet of paper. He didn’t even get a chance to make a move on you today- not like he could make any big developments in the campus library anyway.

“Is it like this?” he asks, tilting his notebook to face you. You take a hard look at it and nod.

“Yeah, just make sure you know the difference between these two formulas, or else you’ll mess up on the midterm,” you say thoughtfully.

This was your fourth or fifth tutoring session by now? Truth be told he wasn’t really counting. Each moment he spent with you kind of blended together and he didn’t quite know if that was a bad thing or not.

“You know you’re not even struggling,” you say, your nose buried deep in your textbook. “It’s not like you’re completely clueless like Jimin. It seems like you’re wasting money on stuff you already know.”

Jungkook laughs heartily, getting shushed by the people around him. He really was stupid, wasn’t he?

“Yeah, well, it was just an excuse to hang out with the pretty girl in class, you know?” he says as nonchalantly as he could. You stare at him for a second and he swears he feels his body freeze over. If looks could kill...

You just shook your head with a click of your tongue and got back to reading.

“The pretty girl in class is most definitely not me,” you grumble. “If you wanted, I could’ve given you Soobin’s number without all the added hassle of you trying to come talk to me-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jungkook stops you from saying anything else. He looked worriedly at your face. “I don’t even know who the hell Soobin is, why would I want her number?”

You look at him and finally, you chuckle. ‘She really does have a nice smile,’ Jungkook thought to himself. It would be nice if he could make you laugh more often and not just on rare occasions like this.

“You’re saying you don’t know Yoongi’s ex?” you tease slightly. You were finally letting your guard down with him and Jungkook smirked. One wall down, another million more to go.

“Bold of you to assume that I know any of Yoongi’s exes,” he says and you scoff. “He’s an asshole when it comes to dating.”

You roll your eyes.

“Isn’t that your whole friend group?”

He pouts. You knew of his reputation after all. Jungkook thought he could get away playing a nice boy act, but it didn't seem possible considering your knowledge of him. A little white lie couldn’t hurt in the end.

“Not me,” he replies. “I choose my relationships pretty carefully.”

You take a glance at him before jotting down a few more words in your notebook.

“Well,” you start off, a little shy to admit what you were about to say, “I guess we both have that in common.”

He tilts his head rather cutely out of confusion.

“What do you mean?”

You cough awkwardly, adjusting yourself on one of the library’s notoriously squeaky seats.

“I’ve never really had a boyfriend before,” you say quietly. His eyes bulge out from their sockets.

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you say, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“Like, you’ve never been on a date or what?”

“I have,” you say hesitantly. “I’ve been on a few but they just never led into anything serious. I was pretty focused on studying in high school so there weren’t really any opportunities to get involved with someone. Plus, the guys who pursued me weren’t very... attractive.”

Jungkook laughs loudly again, much to the dismay of the other students in the library. He liked that you didn’t beat around the bush- it was easier to talk to you that way.

“And me?” he asks teasingly, laying his head on his arm that was atop the desk. He looks up at you with that boyish grin of his that gave you small butterflies in your stomach. You stare back at him, but only for a second. You ignore his watchful gaze and continue to flip through your textbook, trying to find the passage you last read. He keeps his eyes locked on you and you just couldn’t resist.

“What about you?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

“Am I attractive?” he replies as bluntly as he could. You stop your movements and he chuckles.

“You’re... cute,” you settle on that word. Cute. It was safe enough to not be misinterpreted too much. He sits up straight with a satisfied smirk. He takes his pen and draws a heart on the side of your notebook. He winks at you when you stare back at him, puzzled by his actions.

“You are too.”

—

“Tell me you’re lying,” Soobin whines disappointingly, shaking your shoulders. You were trying to eat lunch undisturbed in one of the campus cafes but your two friends seem hell-bent on making you suffer. “There’s no way you’re friends with Jungkook.”

You sigh, attempting to rid yourself of Soobin’s grasp but to no avail.

“He’s an asshole, [Y/N],” Gaeun sighs disappointingly. “I thought you were a feminist, why the fuck do you even tolerate him?”

You glare at her for a split second before going back to prying Soobin off you.

“Jungkook has no respect for women or himself. It shows in how many shitty friends he has,” Soobin chants, still clearly bitter that Yoongi dumped her.

You shake your head, rolling your shoulders back when she finally lets go of you.

“Jungkook’s not even as bad as you guys describe him,” you reply. “He’s actually been really sweet.”

The girls take a glance at each other and burst in a fit of laughter.

“You must be out of your damn mind,” Gaeun cries. You cower slightly at their words. It’s not like you said anything that controversial, did you?

Soobin slaps Gaeun on the shoulder when she realizes how your face had soured. It wasn’t right to judge you for your choice of friends so harshly, no matter how horrid said person was.

“As long as it doesn’t go past friends,” she says soothingly, but that only made you feel worse.

“Why?” you ask a little hesitantly. “Does Jungkook sleep around?”

Gaeun nods, a worrying glimpse in her eyes.

“He's not exactly the type to kiss and stay...”

You nod understandingly. You weren’t too clueless to believe Jungkook when he said he was “careful” on who he dated. As long as you knew the boundaries that came with being his tutor, everything should be fine... right?

“Don’t worry guys,” you say with determination. “I’m not the type to get played-”

“Of course you are!” Gaeun sighed. “Guys gravitate towards girls like you who lack experience. Jungkook’s a fucking weirdo, of course, he’s gonna try and-”

“[Y/N]!” a shout from across the cafe screams. That distracted you from the various insults Gaeun was spewing from her mouth. You get that she was being critical of Jungkook, but did she have to speak ill of you too?

You look around and catch Jungkook waving frantically at you. He stops at your table and takes a mere glance at your friends before setting his focus on you.

“Do you have time to help me out today? One of the papers for my writing class-”

“You tutor him in writing now, too?!” Soobin exclaimed, mouth agape. “[Y/N], what the fuck.”

You try to ignore your friend’s overreaction, a little disheartened when Jungkook looked hurt at their words. He had started to shy away from them as if he didn’t feel welcomed.

“Nevermind, I’ll just ask you later-”

“Actually,” you say standing up. “I’m free now.”

The two girls look back and forth between you and Jungkook, noticing the stars in your eyes when you looked at him. They did not like the thought of you two together at all.

“But [Y/N]-”

You ignored their words and start to walk away, hoping Jungkook would come catch up to you. You didn’t quite know why their insistence on him being a bad person had made your blood boil. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of his flirtatious tendencies, but hearing from your friends that you shouldn’t pursue a guy that you liked-

You stopped in your tracks and feel heat climb up your face. Like.

No way you admitted that just now. There’s no possible way you actually like-

“Hey, wait up,” Jungkook pants, his hand touching your shoulder. “Why do you walk so fast for-”

He sees your shocked face and turns you towards him, his hands on your shoulder similar to how Soobin had shaken you just earlier. Except this time, it felt comforting. It made your whole body feel warm as if you were coated with a weighted blanket. Was he always this gorgeous?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, inspecting your face closely. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“N-nothing,” you swipe his hands away and rush out the door of the cafe. He smirks at how flustered you look, maybe he did have an effect on you after all.

Jungkook takes a last glimpse at the two girls who sat in their seats, staring at him disapprovingly. He raised an eyebrow at them and shoved his hands in the pocket of his jeans, following after you. ‘They’ll try to get in the way,’ Jungkook thought to himself, ‘but they’re already too late.’

The girls clenched their fist out of annoyance. He was definitely trying to get on their nerves.

“There’s something strange about what’s happening,” Gaeun mutters.

“They’re up to something,” Soobin agrees. “I don’t trust him at all.”

—

It’s been a week since you last spoke to your friends, not really wanting to read the messages they bombarded you with about how you should stay for away from Jungkook. It was hard to take any of their advice seriously when they were just badmouthing him without reason. They based all their opinions on him from rumors around the school and Soobin always felt the need to compare him to Yoongi even though they both had very different personalities. Well, at least to you they seemed very different.

Frankly, you were sick of their nagging and just turned off notifications from that group chat altogether. Instead of sitting next to them during Microeconomics, you opted to sit with Jungkook in the back of the lecture hall instead of at the front with them. Jungkook had abandoned his own rowdy friend group to sit with you and flashed them quick smirks and winks whenever they’d stare at him.

Slowly, Jungkook had started to become a constant in your day to day life. You walked to class with him, ate with him, played video games with him. It was sort of strange how used to you were of his presence, like you had known him your whole life. Jungkook snaps you out of your thoughts when he starts humming a little tune.

He draws a heart in the corner of your notes- which you find he has a habit of doing whenever he wanted to say something stupid.

“I don’t get what he’s saying,” he pouts cutely. “It’s like he’s speaking a foreign language.”

You shake your head, not paying him any mind.

“Well maybe if you actually paid attention,” you mutter softly. He scoots closer to you and you feel yourself stiffen.

“But you’re tutoring me later on anyway,” he says teasingly. “I get more bang for my buck if I know less.”

“Bang for my buck,” you scoff. “Who even says that anymore?”

He points at himself nonchalantly and you can’t help but crack a smile as you continue to focus on the professor’s words. You don’t even cower under his gaze like you usually do when he stares at you with those puppy dog eyes.

“What do you want?” you ask, finally caving when Professor Kwon adjusted something in his PowerPoint slides. He smiles.

“I want to hold your hand,” Jungkook replies and you could feel your palms clam up. His flirtatious comments increased as time passed and you didn’t really quite know whether he was just teasing you or if he was genuinely interested in you. You weren’t very good at taking a hint.

“I’m writing right now...” you reply, slightly skipping a beat in your note-taking. He really was the ultimate distraction, wasn’t he?

Jungkook pouts sadly, but you can tell an idea pops up in his mind when his eyes start to glimmer. He sits his hand on your thigh and you jolt back from the touch of his hand on the material of your jeans. He pulls away slightly, scared that he had made you uncomfortable.

“I just want to put my arm around you,” he asks innocently. “Are you okay with that?”

You calm yourself down and nod. For goodness sake, you weren’t a child- why did a hand on your thigh make you so nervous for?!

“Yeah,” you say, a little more confident despite your nerves. “Go ahead.”

He smiles softly at you and connects his hand to your waist, pulling you a little closer to him. It was comforting, not at all meant to be more than just a public display of affection. He finds himself getting lost in the lecture along with you, his hand playing with a loose thread on your shirt through it all. He didn’t even look at his friends who were teasing him on the other side of the class or your own friends shooting daggers into his being.

At that moment, it was you, him, and Professor Kwon giving out a lecture that had half of the students already asleep. He smiled at how diligently you worked and how your breath would quicken when Professor Kwon switched the slides without a warning. It was the little idiosyncrasies like this that caught his attention, the kind of things that made him wonder where you’d been all his life.

The smile on Jungkook’s face disappeared when he came to that realization.

Fuck.

—

Jungkook rolls around the grass while you sit on the picnic blanket you two had set up. Midterms were over and grades would soon be announced. He wanted a much-needed distraction from the monotony of constant studying and you had suggested a small picnic in a nearby park. Of course, he agreed.

“We’re free,” he groans. “Finally free.”

Jungkook stares hungrily at the assortment of food you had laid out for the two of you. He tries to reach a hand out to grab a bottle of lemonade but ultimately fails in the end. You giggle at his silliness, popping a grape in your mouth.

“You’re welcome by the way,” you say jokingly. “Don’t think you could’ve done it without me.”

He sits up to face you, bowing deeply as if you were a traditional empress.

“Thank you,” he says, imitating a Joseon accent. He was watching far too many historical dramas recently.

“You’re embarrassing me,” you say, attempting to straighten him out. “Sit up.”

He complies, only after a few pulls from you, with a toothy grin on his face.

“Seriously, I don’t think I could have gone through the first few weeks of Professor Kwon’s class without your notes,” he sighs, opening his mouth to signal that he wanted to be fed. You roll your eyes but placed a grape between his teeth anyway.

“You have hands, you should know how to use them,” you mumble shyly.

You move to take another grape for yourself, but he grabs your wrist before you could. He intertwines his fingers into yours.

“Why should I when my hands are holding yours~,” he says in a sing-song voice. It made you want to throw up at how cheesy he was, but you couldn’t help but laugh along as he cringed at his own words. When was it so normal for him to hold your hands like this?

“You can’t go one sentence without flirting, can you?” you sigh, feigning annoyance.

“Not when it comes to you,” he replies, but you could feel sincerity laced between his laughter. “I can’t resist flirting when it makes you all giggly like this.”

You purse your lips to prevent yourself from smiling too brightly. Jungkook and you were somewhat past the point of being just friends by now, but you were too much of a coward to label what you had with him. What if there was a chance that he was just leading you on?

Jungkook saw your furrowed brows. He rubbed circles on your hands with his thumbs to ease you.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asks softly, about to let go.

“No-” you say a little too quickly, clasping him closer to you. Your faces were inches apart now, much nearer than they were before.

“D-don’t,” you attempt to say but you’re tongue tangled as you looked at his lips. He certainly does have nice lips...

“Don’t what?” he asks in a lowly voice. You start to look around you- anywhere that wasn’t him. The park was relatively empty but it still felt embarrassing to say anything too loud.

“D-don’t let me go,” you say, your eyes on the picnic blanket rather than on him. His gaze was too intense to look at. Jungkook feels his heart clench. You were cute, too cute.

He shouldn’t be feeling this attached to you, but he couldn’t help it. Everything you did, every word that came out of your mouth- it had him wanting more from you than he could possibly handle. It was dangerous to feel this way.

“Why don’t you want me to let you go?” he asks nervously. He too was anxious for the answer. If you were to confess to Jungkook right now, he’d get the first part of the bet done, but there’d be no turning back after your confession. He would have to lie to you from now on.

Jungkook closed his eyes, chanting to himself that it’s okay to like you for a little while, just as long as he doesn’t get too attached in the end. He needed the money, he really did.

“Because,” you start off with a sigh, staring at him now with glossy eyes. “I like you.”

Jungkook feels like he could do ten backflips in one go and it wouldn’t even drain him of energy. The smile on his face was huge, his eyes curling into that half-moon shape that made you swoon.

Jungkook was relieved and if the boys asked, it was because he’d only have to date you for three months. He’d die before he’d admit to them that he caught feelings because Taehyung, as generous as he was with his bets, would never give Jungkook the money unless he cleanly broke up with you. It was one of his unspoken rules.

“I like you too.”

You smile at him and he can’t help but pull you close, his lips hovering over yours.

“Can I?”

You nod.

His lips graze yours slightly but he pushes a bit closer when he feels you lean into his touch. He kisses you again, and again, and again, but you pull away when his tongue had started to prod at your lips. Your face was flushed, embarrassed to be doing this in such a public place.

“Maybe later?” you say, panting slightly. He gives you a cheeky grin and nods.

“At my place?” he asks with a wink.

You hesitate, letting go of his arms, twiddling with your fingers. You wanted to set clear labels on what your relationship was. You didn't want to accidentally get caught up in a friends-with-benefits situation and be all shocked when Jungkook ends up breaking your heart.

“So we’re dating now, right?” you ask cautiously, looking at him with a worried glint in your eyes.

Jungkook’s mouth opens to speak but no words come out. He thinks a little harder about the whole situation... He was getting good grades, spending some quality time with a girl he’s clearly attracted to, and having his rent paid off all in one? He was killing three birds with one stone. It shouldn’t be too big of a problem to catch feelings for now, right? It’s not like any of his relationships lasted longer than a couple of months anyway.

He nods, cupping your face lightly.

“Yeah,” he hesitates. “We’re dating.”

Jungkook wasn’t aware, as he gives you another light peck, that it wasn’t possible to have his cake and eat it too.

—

It happens naturally. You coming in and out of his apartment that he shared with his friends, you tangling your legs with his underneath the sheets of his bed. It was hard to imagine a life where you didn’t wake up with him by your side. You were so wrapped up in his touch, so wrapped up in the sweet words he would whisper into your ears, that you spent most of your time with him.

You weren’t really up to date with your friends anymore and he didn’t really hang out with his either. Jungkook shared an apartment with Seokjin and Hoseok, and so the only contact he had with the other boys was when they visited those two. He should’ve known to take you back home when all the boys bombarded into his living room, where you sat with him watching TV.

“The lovebirds are at it again,” Taehyung coos, a mysterious glint in his eyes. “The honeymoon stage hasn’t passed quite yet, has it?”

Jungkook chucks one of the sofa’s throw pillows at his friend, obviously annoyed. What the fuck did Taehyung think he was doing?

“Quit it,” he mutters. You were sitting next to Jungkook, his arm around your shoulder protectively

“Why?” Yoongi yawns. “Anyone can see how incredibly in love you two are.”

You didn’t quite like the smirk he gave the two of you. This didn’t feel like regular teasing... it felt like he knew something that you weren't aware of. It made you curl your toes out of fear.

“Guys,” Jimin says calmly. “Stop it.”

The boys shrug their shoulders as if they said nothing wrong.

“We’re just pointing out how cute they are together,” Taehyung noted, “It’s not like we’re lying to her or anything-”

“Yeah, or leading her on or anything like that-”

“I think I should go,” you say hurriedly, uncomfortable at how tense the atmosphere was. Jungkook was clenching his fists, about ready to start a fight any second. Knowing his strength, you didn’t want anyone to walk around with a bruised eye because you couldn’t handle a few jokes- if that’s what Taehyung and Yoongi think they’re making. Harmless jokes.

“I’ll take you home,” Jungkook announces, standing up with you. Namjoon pulls him down back on the couch.

“Let someone else take her,” he says sternly. “We need to talk.”

Jungkook was about to protest until you spoke up.

“I can get home by myself just fine.”

“Hoseok and I can take you,” Seokjin insists, pulling the unassuming man up with him. “We don’t mind.”

Hoseok gives you a lopsided smile and you return an equally awkward one.

“Okay, that’s settled,” you say, clapping your hands. You walk over to Jungkook. “I’ll text you later okay?”

He nods, grabbing your hand and kissing it lightly. Yoongi scoffs and Taehyung glares at Jungkook. The dirty glances they were giving each other... You didn’t like it at all.

“Let me know when you get home, okay?”

“Okay.”

—

The walk to your apartment was unnecessarily awkward, Hoseok and Seokjin were talking too much and you talked too little. You tried to respond to their every quip, but you weren’t in the mood for chatting after that whole mess.

“You okay, [Y/N]?” Hoseok asks worriedly. “Don’t think too much about what those idiots said back there, they’re like that all the time.”

You nod, keeping your eyes on the ground. There was something chipping away at the back of your mind, something you wanted to get out of your chest.

“Would you say Jungkook and Yoongi act similarly?” you hesitate to say, “like with relationships?”

The two boys exchanged nervous glances at each other.

“Well, it depends,” Seokjin starts, choosing his words specifically. “What about relationships specifically?”

“Does he...,” you start off, not knowing the right phrase without sounding too harsh, “play around with girls? Like how Yoongi played around with Soobin?”

Hoseok looked at you with a raised brow.

“Who’s Soobin?” he asks before getting punched in the arm by Seokjin. “What the fuck bro!”

Seokjin clears his throat.

“What Hoseok meant to say,” he starts, glaring at his friend a little too harshly, “is that Yoongi never really introduces us to his girlfriends. You, on the other hand, are one of the few girls Jungkook actually took the time to invite over.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok chimes in. “He’s not exactly the most chivalrous, but he wouldn’t ghost someone like Yoongi did.”

Somehow their words weren’t enough to satisfy you. There was still something off in the conversation that transpired between the three boys- as if they were all keeping something from you. You stopped abruptly in front of your apartment complex, finally making eye-contact with the two boys.

“Do you think...” you start, a slight quiver in your voice, “that Jungkook is cheating on me?”

The two boys let out a deep breath that you didn’t even notice they were holding and laughed joyously together. They cackled as if what you said was the funniest thing they had ever heard in their life. Seokjin wipes a stray tear from his eye.

“Y-you think Jungkook’s cheating on you?!”

You nod, a little embarrassed at their reaction. Hoseok shakes his head, sighing out of his laughter.

“Trust me,” Hoseok starts, his breath evening out. “Jungkook would never cheat on you.”

You start to giggle along with them until a serious look suddenly takes over Seokjin’s features. He faces you fully.

“But listen [Y/N],” he starts. “If Jungkook hurts you, just know that he does love you. Like, undeniably. He does.”

“And we’re not just saying that as his friends either,” Hoseok continues. “We know how he’s like and we can tell that he really does like you.”

You smile at the two, feeling a small sense of comfort at their words.

“Thank you, guys. I mean it.”

They pat you on the back.

“Anything for Jungkook’s girlfriend.”

—

You walk through the campus cafeteria, eyes searching for a free table that you can sit alone in. Jungkook had Taekwondo practice so there would be no lovey-dovey feeding time with him.

He’s been a lot tenser since the living room incident (which was already a week ago) and it seemed like he got more agitated as the days passed. Not towards you directly, but he’d always mutter slight insults whenever Yoongi or Taehyung passed by. It made you worried that you had done something to possibly drive a wrench into their relationship without even knowing it.

‘Whatever,’ you thought, ‘I’ll talk about it with him when he comes over later.’

You aren’t able to find a seat, though, when you feel dainty fingers wrap around your elbow to pull you back lightly.

“[Y/N],” Gaeun says in a low voice. “We need to talk.”

It wasn’t like you had been ignoring them deliberately, though that was definitely the case at the start. You just couldn’t find the time to really hang out with them as much as you used to since you were with Jungkook most of the time. It was like that too when Gaeun and Soobin were in relationships, so you never really felt bad about doing it yourself.

“Yeah sure. I miss you guys,” you smile at her, but she doesn’t return it back.

“Come with me.”

Gaeun leads you to a table near the back of the room, where Soobin was sat up against the wall with her own tray of food. You sit down in front of her and Gaeun takes the seat next to Soobin.

“Good, you’re here,” Soobin says, apprehension laced in her voice. “We need to talk about Jungkook.”

You roll your eyes.

“Not this again-”

“[Y/N],” Gaeun warns. “Listen.”

You keep quiet, a little intimidated of how scary their expressions were.

“It’s all a bet,” Soobin says sternly.

You furrow your brows at her. She tends to speak vaguely when you needed her to be specific the most.

“What?”

“It’s a bet, [Y/N],” Gaeun repeats for her. “Jungkook’s only dating you because Taehyung said he’d pay his rent off if he did.”

You clench your fist on the table. How could they sit there and spew lies so easily?

“What are you guys-”

“Those dicks do this all the time,” Soobin rambles. “They play stupid games with girls just to fucking break their hearts later on and-”

“I don’t believe you,” you say confidently. “Jungkook would never do that to me. Besides-”

Gaeun didn’t even wait until you stopped talking to play a recording on her phone. The voices were familiar enough to recognize.

“So you’re telling me that Jungkook’s just fucking around with [Y/N] because he wants priority registration? You have to be fucking joking...”

You could tell from the sound of the person’s voice that it was Soobin. It sounded like she was putting on her clothes.

“Of course not. He’s doing it for priority registration and his rent getting paid for the rest of the year. I’m not joking when I say Tae goes big with his bets. He likes to flex his money on us like that.”

Your jaw drops at the sound of the man’s voice. It was Yoongi. You were sure of it.

“And you guys don’t feel bad? Like at all?”

“Why should we? Jungkook’s planning to break up with her next week anyway so she doesn’t catch feelings for too long. It’s not like they were gonna last past the three-month deal...”

Gaeun paused the recording when she sees you bite your lip so harshly that blood starts to surface. This didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel real.

“I hooked up with him last weekend,” Soobin admits, shame written all over her face. “He was spewing stuff about Jungkook spending all his time with you and not really hanging out with the boys like he used to.”

“You still hook up with Yoongi? After all he did to you?” you ask, not meaning to come off aggressive but undoubtedly did.

“Look,” Gauen starts, taking the heat off of Soobin. “She was just drunk and looking to have fun. I was with her that night and I was talking to Namjoon. He...”

Gaeun trailed off, but you were sick of it. Sick of being kept in the dark from something you should’ve known all along.

“What?”

“H-he told me that all the boys were getting tired of him playing around with you,” she says, twiddling with her fingers. “He’s supposed to break up with you today. Some of the guys think he’s just prolonging it to fuck with you and they’re getting really annoyed-”

You bite back the tears threatening to spill over any minute now.

“Hoseok and Seokjin told me to trust Jungkook. They said he wouldn’t hurt me-”

“Did they also tell you that their rent gets paid too if Jungkook pulled through with the bet?” Soobin replies angrily. “Because they live together, don’t they?”

You open your mouth but no sound comes out- just a small whimper. Your lips start to quiver and you bite your lip again to calm yourself down. When you had collected your thoughts, you glared up at the two girls.

“And you didn’t tell me this earlier?”

Soobin scoffed.

“You were fucking ignoring us too, how were we supposed to tell you?”

“Still it wouldn’t have killed you to-”

“Don’t take your anger out on us,” Gaeun warns, her finger pointing at you. “Jungkook is the one to blame. We told you from the start that he was bad news.”

You pursed your lips and Gaeun put her finger down, feeling guilty that she lashed out on you when obviously you were just processing the information.

“Hey, I’m sorry-”

“Why me?” you ask with teary eyes. “What did I even do to them to deserve this?”

They glance over at each other for a long while before Soobin breaks the silence. You had the right to know, but at the same time, they knew it would break you.

“It’s a sick game that they play where they just choose someone randomly...” Soobin starts off gently handing off the next few words to Gaeun, “and you were just the first girl to walk into Professor Kwon’s lecture hall. He thought you’d be...”

“Easy,” Soobin finished.

Just as they predicted, you had burst out in tears.

—

Jungkook opens the door to your apartment, using the spare key you had given him a month earlier since he tended to visit often. It was more convenient that way.

He was freshly out of his Taekwondo garb, still sweaty, but otherwise clean from taking a shower at the campus gym. He found it strange at how dark the room was, but he knew you were on the couch from the noticeable lump of a blanket on it.

All Jungkook wanted was to cuddle with you and fall asleep in your arms after such a harrowing day. Lord knows he needs your warmth right now.

He smiled as he made his way towards you, but stops in his tracks when you sit up from where you laid. He couldn’t quite see you in the darkness so he walked to the light switch to turn the lights on. His heart broke at the sight of you.

Tears stained your cheeks, your eyes red and puffy from all the crying. You looked a mess and his blood boiled at the thought of someone hurting you.

“What happened?” he asked, rushing over to you and cupping your face in his hands. You push him away.

“You don’t have to act anymore,” you say softly. “I can handle it.”

He looks at you with furrowed brows.

“What are you talking about-”

“I get that you really need the money,” you say through bated breaths, “I get that financially, it would have really helped, but did you really have to hurt me to do that?”

Jungkook’s breathing stopped. Everything was happening too quickly, his world crashing down when you uttered those words. He knew what this meant, knew that now you would see past his lies. Jungkook couldn’t have you finding out this way.

He kneeled in front of you, attempting to wipe away the tears from your eyes but you push him off.

“[Y/N] no-”

“It could’ve been anyone,” you whimper, trying to look up at the ceiling to prevent any more tears from falling down. “Anyone could’ve walked through that door and you would’ve been okay with it.”

“That’s not true-” he interjects but you stop him.

“A-and you flirted with me all the time ‘cause you knew that I wasn’t used to it,” you say, your voice quivering. “You took advantage of me.”

Jungkook shakes his head rapidly, eyes pleading for you to let him speak. It hurt seeing you refuse to even look at him, to have your eyes so filled with sadness because of what he did to you. He fucked up, he fucked up so bad.

“No, you have to listen-”

“They told me not to trust you,” you whimper somberly. “They told me and I didn’t believe them because I... I was delusional or something. I thought that someone like you could actually like someone like me-”

His heart broke. It wasn’t you that didn’t deserve him. It was him. All him.

“Please don’t say that-”

“Did you come here to seal the deal? To finally break up with me?” you ask sadly. “Are you happy you’ll get the classes you want next quarter, Jungkook?”

He clenches his teeth. Jungkook knows you’re mad, knows you have a right to be, but it feels like he’s being cornered by you. Why won’t you give him the chance to speak?

“[Y/N], no,” he says sternly, “You have to trust me when I say that it went past just a bet. I like you. Genuinely, I like you.”

There was no point in lying any longer. You deserved to know the truth, but he needed you to know all of it- not just the information your friends cherry-picked to fit their narrative. He tried to speak again, but you wouldn’t let him.

“How could you,” you whimper. “How could someone be so cruel?”

Jungkook’s heart breaks at the words. He should’ve seen this coming. How could he delude himself into thinking he’d be okay if you find out- that he’d be fine seeing you heartbroken? He was disgusted with himself.

“I’m sorry [Y/N],” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, your vision getting blurry from the tears. He clasps your hands in his, knowing that it used to soothe you whenever you felt worried over something, but you just wailed harder at his touch. He didn’t know what to do, he didn't even know where to start.

“Stop pretending like you care,” you cry. “Please. It hurts.”

“It was a bet,” he admits and he breaths through the words to prevent himself from getting too emotional, “but I promise that my feelings are genuine. You have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” you ask crudely.

You stare at him, slowing your breaths to ease the crying. There was a certain emptiness in your gaze and it scared him. It was awfully frightening having you looking at him with a certain animosity that was not there before. Like he was a stranger.

“I can’t do that anymore, Jungkook,” you say softly, “because I hate you.”

—

A/N: Gasp A double update?! Say it isn’t so... I had so much fun writing this!!! Probably one of my favorite fics I’ve written in a while because I love this trope. How do y’all feel about Jungkook? Forgive or forget? Let me know!! Thank you @altus-gens for requesting this story, I hope you like it :)

Please leave any comment, critiques, or just random thoughts about my story! I’m planning my murder mystery series rn and I’m so excited (I might... do an album giveaway along with it...) I really love the direction I’m taking this blog in and I hope you guys are excited for the stories to come~~

buy me a coffee?

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