#you guys should go send him asks. no clue when he'll be back next but he'd appreciate it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jjkpls · 4 years ago

Text

the wishlist (m) - 6 (final)

“Was it worth it?”

> genre : smut, angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 15k (ugh sorry)

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, LOTS of pining; sextoys talk and use; explicit language; explicit description of sex; phonesex; masturbation (f); dirtytalk; alcohol drinking; dubcon exhibitionism; ambiguous infidelity

previous - masterlist

There's a lot of forgetting to get done. It wasn't the plan to get drunk. Maybe you should have known better than to confide the slightest about your heart and its aching to your two girlfriends. Because they don't have much of a solution to present you with. You meant to ask of them to divert your mind, make you laugh, feed you so much you'd fall into a food coma and wouldn't be able to think about anything else but sleep. Eventually, share their own dramas of the moment (they always have some) to get you so invested in their shits you wouldn't be thinking about your own.

You made the mistake of sharing, with probably too much preponderance in your tone, that Jungkook was back with his girlfriend.

Without any context clues -they didn't even know that he was single for approximately four days-, they knew. You're not that complicated to read when it comes to him. Only he seems to not get it.

You still remember the first time they found you out. They had a sense that something was up with this kid, that there couldn't just be a platonic, decade-old friendship based on nothing spicier than the tteokbokki you'd cook for him every now and then.

They only started believing, with utter incredulity, that it was true when they saw you, and him, and his girlfriend. All at the same time, sitting around the same table, there was no doubt left. No reason to believe that there's something unsaid existing. They saw your eyes though. The shine they gain whenever you'd be looking at him, laughing hard with all his teeth out, and the glassy look they took on whenever they'd catch a gesture, a touch that was meant only for Jiyeun.

You've never really gone into details. You've never ranted over the feelings, over him, everything that made him the one person for you. They saw you cry over him though, one drunken night, and it was enough to make them understand how deep you were in.

And perhaps it's your fault, that you wouldn't sort of train them to be the better friends they wish to be to you. They don't know what to say, what to do to console you. You don't even know what you need. Really, all you know, it's that you didn't feel able enough to take care of your tormented heart and mind alone tonight.

You are to blame if they dragged you to this bar, with the music too loud and the people too numerous, bumping their hips to yours attempting to coarse you into dancing. You hate every second of it. Every element that was supposed to distract you, help you forget, feel better, served as annoying distractions. You could picture yourself, dipped in a scorching hot bath, with a bowl of ice cream, weeping your eyes out like in the most cliche, most dramatic breaking down of your life. And it felt right, in your mind anyway, a thousand times better than this.

"Here!" Like the good girl that you are, you accept the shots. Min sets one in each of your hand and stares over the rim of her own glass, expecting. You roll your eyes. Swallow them down in one go and she yells, arms in the air, jumping like the night has just been made.

At least, she's entertained. Dancing her life away, kind of wilding out with too much energy, having to apologize every few seconds for knocking someone with an elbow or slapping another with her ponytail.

"Look, who's here!"

Your heart skips a beat then. Until you follow Mary's finger who's pointing rudely at Park Jimin. Park Jimin as in Jeon Jungkook's Park Jimin, one of his closest friends. He's dressed in all black, tight leather pants clawing to his legs, silk shirt half unbuttoned, perched on heeled Chelsea boots, dark black hair gelled back.

For a second, you worry, stupidly, if your friend is not going to appear, emerging from the thick crowd, carrying a drink, catching your eyes in the room. That's another thing you wouldn't need right now: seeing him. When you're in this weird state of sadness, guiltiness, of hopelessness and confusion. You'd probably be a mean bitch again. He doesn't deserve that.

For some time, you're just watching Jimin, being Jimin, dancing languorously, flashing smiles and winks so naturally; making everyone uncomfortable just because he's so attractive and so talented at catching people's attention and making them want him. It's just Jimin, hoeing out, as always. No Jungkook ever appears next to him. And while you sort of spy on him, there are the two dumb bitches next to you, drooling over him. Commenting about his ass, the way he moves his hips and how tight he seems to be in his pants.

"You should have fallen for him, dude!" It's the pinch to your arm that drags you back to the conversation, lets you know that you're the one Min is addressing. "What?" Your brain is already a bit slow. You haven't eaten much before leaving, drunk not much but too fast and forming intelligible sentences, translating your thoughts in their entirety is not a task easily doable at the moment. You meant to say something about how ridiculous they sound. About how it doesn't make any sense. About Jungkook and the things you feel for him, and the way you fell and how even when you suffer, like in this instance, you wouldn't change your heart because it's him, and only him, has been and might as well always be.

Why would you fall for Park Jimin?

"Jimin, you'd just ask him to fuck you and he'll do it."

"You can see he's a very generous slut."

It makes you wince. They're being fucking weird. Obnoxious, in their way of ogling him and quite disgusting talking about him. There's a smirk on the corner of Jimin's mouth and you wonder if maybe he's noticed them and is enjoying it. They don't mean to be offensive, you suppose, but they're still rude as hell.

"Useless Jungkook could never!"

Either you knock your friend out with your newly filled up glass or you drink it and attempt to swallow along your rage and that strange feeling that the open shirt Jimin is wearing has raised in you.

"Don't you wanna try him?" The question is absurd. You don't try people in general. But you'd never, ever, even think about trying someone as close as he is to Jungkook.

What the actual fuck?

"Fine! Don't give me those eyes!" Your brain and face connection is not that great at the moment that you'd know precisely what Mary is referring to. Soon after frowning and pouting through a sip of her drink, she's leaving, straight for the less crowded part of the bar, where people are dancing, where Jimin is showing off.

She needs less than thirty seconds to have him wrapped around her. Min is howling at your side like it's such an exploit. You don't want to bad mouth on your friend but it is, indeed, Jimin. Manwhore Jimin. And just like that, just because she walked in his vicinity, whispered something quickly to him, maybe just a simple greeting and a reminder of who she is, your friend, in case he couldn't make her out, and he's holding her tight, dancing, more like grinding against her, to her greatest pleasure, face buried in her hair, he seems to be uttering things directly in her ear. You catch her fingers reaching for the wide opening of his shirt, brushing against that tattoo you know to be there under his breast but have never gotten to really decipher, and he's leaving kisses on her shoulders. The next thing you see is his wide, wolf-like grin, now aiming straight at you.

You startle, almost let your glass shatter to the ground from the surprise. That seems to make him laugh. He waves a hand quickly your way and for some reasons, it sends a sudden flaming flush to your cheeks. That guy is such a cunt-tease, he's awful. No wonder people talk so crudely about him.

"I need to get plastered." You mumble, probably not loud enough for Min, whose arm you're dragging along on your way to the bar, to hear.

You may have thought, for a split second, of a fantasy. You may have reshaped the scene taking place in front of you to make it more suitable to you, to make it as self-indulgent as you could. With you replacing Mary, with Jungkook replacing Jimin. She made it seem so easy and for the briefest of moments, it felt like it was realisable. As if the only step missing, the only thing making it not real yet, is the first step, the one Mary took by just walking up to him and asking him to dance, maybe for you to be his for a while.

Then Jimin looked over, with his dark eyes and pretty luscious lips, his very sexy aura and everything that makes him him, and it all felt down to the ground. That's ridiculous.

That would never work.

Maybe hot men with the most endearing hearts that you really desire are not to be seduced by you. It just wouldn't happen. Jungkook would never, as she said. What a shame.

You should have fallen for someone easier like Jimin. He's not one person's man, that's for sure, but at least, he would have been great at pretending to be yours for a moment.

Now you really need to get drunk.

There's pure guilt boiling in the pit of your stomach. Because you've never denied your feelings for Jungkook. He deserves them. He deserves to be loved by everyone. Deeply and passionately. And no matter how true, how pure, how intense those feelings are, he never owes to reciprocate, does he? And here you are, greedy stupid little you, sad and angry because of course, he couldn't love you back like that. Not when there's fucking Jiyeun in the way. Jiyeun or any fucking one else, right?

He's not making it easy for you. Everything he does is making your life harder. As if it wasn't enough on its own already.

Everything he does.

Like buying you these fucking toys you need a science degree to operate.

Sort of.

Maybe you don't need a science degree. Maybe a sober head would be enough to make a toy you've never used before function.

You don't have that at the moment. You're in your favourite pyjamas - an extra-large, greyed by time tee-shirt you stole from Jungkook back in high school - and panties - because it sounded like way too much effort to find shorts or joggings and slip them on. You've managed, somehow, you don't even remember doing it, to make your bed all cosy and welcoming, a perfect backrest made of your fluffiest pillows.

The little toy, this orange thing, sort of shaped like a fat bunny, a big, rounded body with two straight little ears, pointed upwards. It's supposed to be fully charged. It's been disinfected. It's just waiting for you to use.

Except it's the last one Jungkook had bought for you, you didn't get to use it yet, to even turn it on once, nor read its instructions. And here you are, past two am, trying, with your sloppy brain, your blurry eyes, and your impatient cunt, to understand how it works. There's an app linked to it. This much you got from the big, unmissable QR code occupying the first page of the three-page long manual that your eyes won't read.

You picked up your phone, went through the violent burning of your eyes when the screen lit up too close to your face, scanned the code, installed the app and here you are, stuck.

The app won't let you turn the fucking toy on. There's a message that keeps coming up every time you try to link the app to the toy. But the message is written in grey, on white, and you can't see shit and you don't have the patience to decrypt it. Maybe if you close it, and try running it again, and try scanning the code again, and just click on the button that appears under the message, whatever it says, maybe it'll work.

Except it doesn't. After a certain number of times (keeping up with the counting is another thing you can't do well right now) the app keeps on being a bitch. Keeps being difficult and reluctant, and unwilling to let you fucking get off and go to sleep.

You're on the verge of tears.

Why would it be so fucking difficult to make a fucking sex toy work?

Why?

You're so annoyed and impatient and angry now and it's all Jungkook's fault anyway.

You can't try to go to sleep, no matter how tipsy you are, because your brain is filled up with this asshole and won't let you alone. You can't fuck yourself to sleep because the toy you've picked - and for totally irrational reasons you feel like you can not switch to another one - won't let you and it's his. His fucking present. Fucking poisoned gift.

He makes everything worse. Everything difficult. And the more your eyes fill up with frustration tears, the more you're reminded that he's also the answer. He's the worst and the best part of your existence.

Of course, you'd call him.

"I could be sleeping." His voice is light and clear. He wasn't any close to be asleep. He's probably gaming or something. You're so thankful for his voice, the lovely thing, the comforting thing, that you don't even get mad at his aforehand teasing.

"Jungkook-" It's not a call of his name. It's a whine, almost a lament at this point. Tiny high tone, overly dragged vowels. Something like Juunggooo, and he must recognize the tone straight away because he starts laughing in your ear. You bite on your bottom lip hard, almost draw blood, squeeze your fist over your heart, as if it could help it handle it better.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

"Went out with the girls?" You hum as an answer. "Had a little too much fun, sweatheart?"

"No fun at all."

He's laughing again. His sly, mocking chuckle. He's too himself for you to get mad at him. He's too cute when he sounds boyish and happy like that.

"No fun?" He's having fun, it's hearable. It might be because you sound like a dumb, whiny kid. "Why is that?"

"Just cause." He hums like he understands. You hear mockery in it. He sounds a bit distant. As if he's not totally paying attention, as if you're really a four-year-old kid rambling some non-sense after school and their parent just barely pretends to be interested. "Junggooo, I'm trying to have my fun now but your thing is being mean to me."

"What thing?" He's definitely doing something else. He speaks a bit slow, you can picture his gaze far from you. And of course, it'd be, he couldn't even see you even if he tried. It's still vexing. He really doesn't want you to have him all for yourself. Why not fucking Jimin?

"The orange bunny you got me." You explain patiently, pouting a bit. You try your best not to have your vexation be too loud but it's hard. "I tried the app but it won't let me."

"The orange-" You hear it when the gears click. He even gasps a bit. You kind of brought it up out of nowhere when you accommodated him with your constant complains and fights pretty much each time he wanted to talk about this subject. And here you are, opening up a conversation on one of them. You kind of get where the shock is coming from. "Oh, the Gala thing." He even knows its name. "What- How isn't it working?"

"The app says I'm too drunk to use it." You quetch, glaring at the toy laying flat on its back next to you. The asshole.

"The app says what?"

"Jeon Jungkook! Are you even listening to me?" Hysteria was to be expected. Because here you are sad and drunk and horny and highly frustrated and it seems he keeps making you repeat everything. And of course, he would because he can't give you his undivided attention now, can he? Because he's not a generous slut like Park Jimin, he's a useless prick. And if he keeps being one, and he keeps upsetting you, you promise to yourself, as an act of self-love and self-respect, you'll tell him he should be better, he should be more like Park Jimin.

"I am, baby, but I'm confused."

Except he doesn't need any bettering, does he?

It's like he's heard your thoughts. Like somehow, even with the distance separating your two apartments, he's been able to read them directly on the lines of your heart. He knows what you need, the soft and gentle and tender Jungkook who takes care of you, the one that doesn't show often, especially now that you don't really go out and get pissed off drunk together, now that you don't expose the sad episodes you might have to him in fear of being precisely confronted to this perfect torture. Maybe he heard your mind calling Park Jimin's name too many times and he tries to ensure his position. You almost tell him not to bother. That it was just a taunt, it's always him, just him, will ever be.

"What does the message say?"

"That I'm too drunk and stupid to use it."

"I don't think that's what's written, baby."

"But-" You're seriously going to cry in a second. You don't even know from what. The app really succeeded in hurting your feelings by not working for you and he keeps calling you baby, it makes your whole inside boil and scorch like a puddle of lava. "It's invisible letters, how am I supposed to read exactly?"

"If you can't read maybe you should just go to bed for now, hm? Figure it out tomorrow."

"No, now." Full brat mode is on. You know if only he was sitting next to you, you would have raised a hand to pinch him right on the back of his upper arm -where it really stings. It works usually. You don't hurt him, the guy is basically made of muscles, he's the kind of work out junkie that's enjoying the pain. He wouldn't fucking mind your tiny attempt of an attack, no matter the amount of anger and frustration powering it.

By telephone though, it's even harder to make him do something. Possibly undoable. The only weapon that you have is your annoying screeching voice. "You fix it! You bought this shitty thing so you fix it."

"I forgot how rude you get when you're drunk." He's still making fun of you. Not taking you that seriously.

"Jungkook, I'm seriously going to cry." The worst part is that you mean it. If regular menaces won't do, surely affection blackmailing should be more effective.

"Don't cry, it's fine. I'll check. Don't hang up."

As if. You did not plan on hanging up. Ever. You've decided.

It's too nice, cuddled up in your bed, with his voice, smooth and soft, saying words that you really like, like baby, in your ear. You've decided this moment won't ever stop.

"Junggoo-"

"One second, baby." You don't have one fucking second. You don't have any fucking second to spare him. When he's made you horny and lonely and longing for so fucking long. Why would you spare him any more? He takes too long. The time he takes, you prophet, will precisely be the time your vagina will need to dry out entirely.

Even his soft voice calling you baby won't serve to make you wet again.

That's a lie.

It makes you groan. Asshole, asshole, asshole.

"Oh." Your ears perk up. He's back with you, his voice closer than before, it seems, when he starts explaining, a hint of guilt shadowing his tone. "Sorry, it's my fault."

"Of course, it is." You mumble, face deep in your pillows. "Jungkook! Everything's your fault, always." You're probably being unfair. Or maybe not. Is he responsible for making you fall for him or are you to blame for doing so? Turns out, it doesn't really matter, because he doesn't even pay attention to the blatant, telling, honest truth you've just spurred.

"When I received the package I tried it once."

"Tried?" Did he really? The cute little bunny-shaped thing you'd dismissed earlier, cursed at and threw daggers at suddenly looks different to you. You want to pick it up and maybe place a kiss on the top.

"Wait- Not like that! I didn't actually try it! I don't have a fucking clit, what-"

"You just said that!"

"I meant, I tried turning it on and linking it with the app, just to see how it worked. Like the options on the app."

"Oh." Makes more sense.

"Anyway, it's not working for you because I used my email with it and you can only have one." So many words. God. "I have to invite you. Or delete my account and then you make one with your QR code."

You turn into the whiniest, most irritating little thing then. Just a jumble of dramatic cries, something almost sorrowful because your issue appears impossible to deal with. It's not that complicated. He explained it. Too many words, too much thinking, too much paying attention, too much to do and too much delay. How does he expect you to do it when you can't even read the invisible font of the app?

"Fucking invite me then."

"Watch your mouth." It makes you roll your eyes. It's not the first time he says that. He says with this menacing growl at the end. Like he means it. Like he's really threatening you. But no matter how far you go, no matter how many times you curse at him, he never acts on it. You want to tell him, you almost do, to stop promising you things he won't ever give you. There's a ping coming from your phone. With a bit of a struggle, you manage to put the speakers on, so that he doesn't leave too far whilst you take a look at the message. A link to click on. Not that hard, it's bright blue, unmissable. It leads you back to the bitchy app.

Now it's all nice to you. It lets you enter, presents even a picture of your own toy, congratulates you for being linked to it and to Jungkook's account. Of course, it would. Now that it knows you're friends, now that he's in the thing, this bitch of an app is being nice.

There are a lot of symbols, every-fucking-where. Some wavier than others. One is shaped like a music note. Some are just little constellations of dots. You click somewhere, just to try and see if anything happens and it does.

Suddenly, the bunny is brought to life and starts purring furiously on the bed. It startles you, looks a bit intimidating. It sounds angry and complicated with all of these fucking options. At least the other toys he's gotten for you had at most two buttons, one to turn it on and off, and the other one to regulate the three levels of intensity.

You might actually need a science degree to use that. Simply to adjust it so it's not attacking you when you turn it on.

You press another button. The setting changes instantly. It starts vibrating in a jerkier way instead of one straight line of frequency.

Tentatively, you grab it, sort of unimpressed and dubious as to the way this would feel good on you. You've already grown grudges against it. It needs to impress you, prove to you that it's worthy of the effort and of you even bringing it to your precious temple.

It sucks at convincing you. You've brought it to your panties and tee covered crotch, pressed it there, waiting, and it doesn't do much. It vibrates. Weirdly. It stops and goes again, in a pattern you don't understand and it doesn't do much for you. Doesn't turn you on, doesn't make you wet. Doesn't stimulate in any positive way.

You reach for your phone with one hand, trying to keep the other one holding it against you, and it's here that the whole thing fucks up for the last time you can tolerate.

How are you supposed to fucking do that?

Don't they understand that? The people that make those fucking things? That they're going to be used mostly by single people, with a single pair of hands? How are you supposed to manage holding it up where you need it, whilst simultaneously, hold your phone up (everyone fucking knows holding a phone up with one hand, and tap on the fucking screen, especially laid in bed, is impossible and the worst fucking idea one could have - except if getting a black eye is the project) and control the intricate dashboard.

"For fuck's sake!"

"What is it?" Jungkook is sighing heavily in your room. And for a second, you're startled almost off of your own bed. You managed to forget he was even still here, on the other line, apparently waiting patiently for- for what exactly? Maybe for you to wish him goodnight and hang up. You literally forgot he was here. You were about to get yourself off -if only this shitty thing wasn't so shitty- whilst he was still here on the phone.

Why doesn't it mortify you?

"How am I supposed to use my phone and the thing at the same time? Why- How? Jungkook!"

"Stop saying my name like that!" You don't ask because you know exactly how you're saying it. There's no proper balance in your tone tonight. Either you're whining his name like a desperate brat, either you're pestering it like a disappointed, aggravated mom.

"I'm going to cry." You say again, lying this time. You've already started. It's not a lot yet. Just a puddle of tears, in each of your eyes that are just about to spill, and the prickling sensation at the tip of your nose, the latter has already starting sniffling uncontrollably.

"Why?" He sighs again. This time, it's gentler. He might have just found the key to the secret safe holding the very last drops of indulgence he hides deep inside his kind heart. "Baby, the app is really for couples."

"But I'm not a couple, I just wanna cum."

"Y/N-" He chokes on your name. "There are buttons on the toy for you to use. You don't have to use your phone, okay?"

"You're lying."

"Why would I be lying? Look! There are fucking buttons."

There are, indeed. But they suck, you think. You do try them. Pressing on them while you stretch your arms out to keep the bunny's ears close to your covered clit. It's so much work. You don't get it. The buttons are hard to press on, when you manage to activate the little monster, it just jabs against your centre, falls over from your hand. You hate the jerking motion, try to change it because clearly, it won't do. It doesn't work. The buttons suck, the toy sucks and Jungkook is cursing at you instead of helping.

"What do you want me to do? Baby, I'm- Just go to bed."

You hate that he's telling you to go to bed, again. He's probably right. You're being a pain, an embarrassing one at that. You can't just go yet, though. First of all, the very reason you called in the first place, for him to make it so you can fuck yourself to sleep, has not been effectively resolved. And on top of that, the very resolution you took earlier, the one of never hanging up, of never drawing a period to this moment, won't let you.

"This one sucks ass."

"It doesn't." He sounds calm, a bit quiet, tone low and collected. You wonder if he'd dropped whatever he was doing, whatever distraction and laid in bed like you, to listen and talk to you only. That would be nice. You're annoying as hell, poor him, he deserves better, but you're thankful for him.

"It's stabbing, how can it be nice?"

"You just- I don't even know why I'm arguing with you. You're drunk."

"Am not, you are."

He scoffs, doesn't bother insisting. He exhales deeply. You sigh as deep. Your lids are heavy. Your brain is fuming too. Your head feels fuzzy. You could sleep right now. You might make a terrible night. You might have nightmares. You might wake up in a few hours, hot and very bothered, frustrated and on edge. There's a little ping messing with an edge of your eyebrow. You know it'll grow into a headache soon.

"Junggoo..." You whimper as if he could help you. As if he's the key to this headache, to lock it away, along with the rest of your tormented feelings.

"You're tired, baby." He comments. You would bite if you were in front of him. He really wants to send you to bed. "Just go to sleep."

You should. Given that you need a good five minutes to find the energy to open your mouth and mumble, "Don't wanna."

"Then what is it that you want?"

"Told you."

"Hm?" You're not saying it again. You could fall asleep right now. With his slow breathing in your ear. It sounds so lovely. Feels like you've never been this nicely enveloped. It's like those ASMR or lo-fi music compilation videos on YouTube. The ones with the short scene, often animated, playing on the screen. It's instant peace, instant chill, purely quiet, greatly pleasant. You love these sceneries. You even have a few printed on your wall. They are great to look at and try to project in, because it seems you could never create this feeling, this atmosphere in real life.

But you've reached it. Now. The perfect peaceful land. With the perfect soundtrack coming through your phone. You're comfy and warm, it's almost as if he was actually there with you, wrapped behind you, stroking your hair. God, you wish he was there stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head. But he's not here. And why? He should be here. If he can be on the phone with you, when he used to come over to make sure the blanket is nicely tucked under your chin, why can't he be here? Life's so unfair.

"What was that?" He's probably referring to the big loud thump, throwing his toy to the ground made. It's not its fault. Even if it hurt your feelings, it's not responsible for him not being yours. Or maybe it is. He wouldn't give you toys if he were yours. He wouldn't need them. That's probably why Jiyeun doesn't like them. Because she wants him to be all that's pleasuring her. The lucky lucky bitch.

"Your stupid toy."

"Don't- do you know how much it cost?"

"Never told you to buy it."

"Sure, but don't break it! I promise it's good. You can't-"

"It stabbed me!" You accuse, petty.

"You- are insufferable." He sounds about done. Except he's not because he seems to want to prove you wrong, still. The toy on the ground starts shaking back to life. Curiously, you roll on your belly, throw a glance to the ground. It's stirring, moving around slowly, getting closer to you as if it's trying to hop back up on the bed. "Pick it up."

You do as you're told. It's vrooming lightly, quieter than you expected. You can hardly feel it in your palm. The movement more noticeable from the timid sound than by the intensity.

"Oh. It's nice now." Maybe it does have a conscience. It's being all sweet and mellow because the remote is in Jeon Jungkook, international heartthrob's hands.

"See?"

It's really gentle. It turns cute. With its bright orangy-red shade, its two cute ears and its belly, a bit domed to allow a better grip.

Your hand has a mind of its own. If he were to ask about it, to demand an explanation, even when you'll come later, and wonder mad and revolted and half dying of embarrassment, what the fuck came over you, you'd blame it all on your hand. The appendix and its own personal free will are bringing the thing back to your crotch. "You can switch the intensity, it was just at the highest before." You're hardly aware of Jungkook still talking in your ear. The phone on speaker is still laying on the pillow next to you and he's selling it to you, while demonstrating, as if he's signed a sponsorship with the brand. It could be funny but you don't really care, more curious about The Gala and finally getting to know it.

Soon enough you realize that two layers of clothing, no matter how thin, are too much. You lift the hem of his tee, exposing your panties and the lines of your mound, showing through the tissue. It makes sense then, the shape of the thing. It has those two straight ears, or poles, with enough space in between, to tuck your clit comfortably. If you'd like. And you're not sure it won the privilege just yet.

For now, it'll have it but still over your panties. They're so flimsy that really the fitting isn't too far from its initial conceptualized use. "And the modes- see," It's jerky again. It goes for a couple of beats very quick short pulses and then there's a long, monotone one until the pulses come back again. You don't like that one. It's gentler than the one from earlier, that tried to attack your clit with an angry strong beating though. "You can just switch. If you don't like the fast pulses, you don't have to use it. You just try it out." You guess he's right. You just have to try it, tame it. Learn its functions and let it learn you. Probably. Sounds like a lot of work though. The other ones were really straight forward. Good, excellent for some - special shout out to the clit hoover, which is not actually vacuuming but blowing air, which made you cum so fast and so hard in the very first two minutes of trying it. You'd turn it on and it'd do the job. Next to your ear, rambling like a radio you'd forget to turn off in another room, Jungkook is explaining how there are dozens of preset patterns and an infinite amount of slots for personal creations.

It's okay. Sounds like it would do the job. You can already tell how you'll use it if you ever decide to give it a second chance after tonight. Pressed tight against your button, turned a bit higher, in a very basic, very classic constant monotone vibration.

He's switched it to another stabbing like pulsing, very fast and aggressive, you can tell they meant to imitate the pattern of a good pounding but it does little to nothing to your excitation. Really all it does is make your eyebrows frown and your premise of a headache is back. "Hate that one."

"Change it." Kindly, he complies. Another one. You can't really identify it. Maybe a slower thrusting. It's better than the last one simply because it doesn't nearly hurt. Doesn't do much good either. But maybe it's not doing much over your panties though therefore curiously, with eyebrows furrowed now in concentration, you lift the waistband up with a finger and slip the bunny under it. Tentatively, you try to set it nicely where it should be resting, your clit out in the open, hugged tightly by the two ears replacing your lips. It's kinda nice. Barely though.

"So is-"

"Wait, turn it up a bit. I can't even tell what that's doing." You mumble maybe a tiny bit petty, a bit bad faith remaining from the bad impression the toy gave you. It's not that you want to hate because you've decided you would. It's more intricate than that. You're too tipsy to even try and explain that though.

"That one is-" After a while, doesn't do much. The higher setting, you suspect he hasn't gotten up a lot, hardly helps. It does vibrate but it doesn't seem to reach enough, your clit hardly feels anything. Your electrical toothbrush from your horny teenage years used to do a better job at being a vibrator -and this even over your jeans.

You're this close to throwing it to the ground again and give up on it, once and for all. Jungkook would need to understand. It's not because he spent a lot on it, it's not because that strange lady he keeps mentioning insisted on its good, that you are forced to appreciate it. You don't see the fucking point of this one. It does look cute and expensive but is pretty much useless. No one needs a pretty, expensive but awful friend.

"It sucks."

For a few seconds, he doesn't say anything. You consider that he might have even hung up. But then, in the quiet, his voice too serious for him not to have taken what you said personally breaks out. "You're mean."

"I think- I think it's a good opportunity to decide- uh..." The toy is still active in your panties, under your palm. The realization slowed your process of thought for a second but the bigger conclusion that it brings is that really, it sucks. So bad you even forgot it was still on -and it's not you being too drunk to have a fully, 360 awareness of your body, honestly. "To decide collectively that you need, you have to stop buying me those."

"They're not all bad! You loved the other ones!" He accuses, apparently not up for the collective decision. You are probably made of confusion at this point. How many more does he feel the need to get you? Is it that great, that gigantic, that tragic of a frustration that he developed by his girlfriend not liking these that he feels the need to bury you alive with thousands of those? The secretive shelf at the bottom of your dresser already holds little to no place left for another pretty box. And as to the satin bag you use to store the toys themselves, in your bedside table's drawer, you can't even close it anymore.

"When have I ever said that? We talked about one, I said it's fine."

"That's not what you said." Honestly, right now, you have no idea what you said. You know that you didn't find great easiness in talking about them. You've never mentioned any and he never did either, apart from the very first one. You did say something positive about it, you think you can recall. "I don't listen to you anyway because I know how bad of a liar you are."

"Well great. Blatantly admitting you don't care about my feelings-"

He bursts out in laughter. You might be a little bit of a drama queen right now. The hand that is not holding the bunny against your mound -for reasons you don't care to address to yourself, probably for you being so lazy that it feels more like an effort to change your hand's doing, take out and put away the toy, rather than just leave it there quiet and not really bothering- did reach for your chest, in a very theatrical embodiment of an offence.

"That's not what I said, you brat."

"That's what I heard though."

"I said I don't trust your mouth when the rest of you is saying something else entirely." You roll your eyes. Hopefully loud enough for him to hear it on his side of the call. "It's my new passion." He starts, giggling like an idiot. "I won't stop for as long as orgasms will look this good on you."

Oh. My God.

Is he allowed to say that? Is he allowed to say shit like that with the most calm you've ever heard anyone speak with? Like it's normal. Like it's a simple fact. Like the word orgasm in itself isn't so foreign in his mouth. Somehow he makes it sound incredible, so delicious you feel the first proper impulse to your pussy.

"You've never seen it." You counter, uneasy, feeling somehow unbalanced and unprepared against what is probably a simple conversation to him but a real personal attack with too great of weapons to you.

"I've seen the aftermath. I told you already." You wish he'd be more explicit. His words are confusing. They're not telling enough. They can be so much, they might not mean anything. He speaks softly, tranquilly, almost whispers in your ear. It's simply late. It's more appropriate, it feels, to speak quietly like that. It's one of those midnight talks.

He wouldn't know whenever he is seducing you. He's doing it constantly without meaning to. It's just him being himself and you being too weak for him. How could you make out his intentions now?

"You really-" The toy twitches in your hand. He clicked on the switch button of his app again. You're not sure why. From the way he speaks, he might not even have realised. He might be playing with the thing, mindlessly, the way he does when he picks at the skin of his fingers when he talks. He must be because he's still in his own head, talking while the thing, the barely interesting thing, turns into something else. Entirely. It's a wave-like pattern. Growing from pure stillness to a slow, growing vibration that ends in an intense climax. You gasp. He doesn't seem to hear. "You really don't want me to get you any more?"

The second wave hits. "Oh- God."

"I mean- I thought, we were- that it was okay." The sensation is incredible. For some reasons, a technology you don't fucking understand, you wouldn't fucking understand now, every single build hits insanely hard. Each time as intense if not better. You're so close to moaning. If you haven't really taken a second to realize what you were doing, actually using the toy with him on the phone, without him even knowing, somehow you know you need to remain quiet. You can't moan out loud. You sigh loud though. You have to. "I swear with you it's so hard to tell-" It's so hard to keep quiet and the realization brings a grin to your face. You're not that vocal usually. Sometimes you are, with some of the surprisingly good sessions Jungkook's presents have been offering you. But it was conscious. It was you enjoying, wanting to build a bigger pleasure, make it more sensational, it turned you on a bit, you had to admit, to hear yourself. The pleasure the toy is bringing you right now is indescribable. The more you leave it pressed to your clit, the more you feel the heat grow. You know it's already too much. You hiss and sigh, and have to bite back moans each time the high top of the wave comes. It's too much and feels like not enough.

The greedy you would want the final hit of the wave to last longer than those very few seconds. Long enough to bring you there, make you fall over the top of the hill. But it's a teasing setting. Probably programmed specifically for overstimulation. You squirm and bite back whines each time it comes, flinch and have to fight to not tear the ears away because you know the sensation is a lot to handle, too much stimulation, yet you're already addicted, unable to act on the very fair, logical, and sensible decision you should make. You shouldn't even be pleasuring yourself with him on the fucking phone.

"Are you okay?"

Jungkook asks, after having stopped talking altogether for a minute too long but it's not like you were really in any state of mind to acknowledge it.

You don't think he's noticed yet. From the noise, hopefully little, that you were making, at most, he should be able to hear some sort of short breathing, for all you know, he might think nausea is visiting from all the alcohol you've consumed and you're heaving, on the verge of throwing up.

"You're not feeling well, Y/N?" It's his concerned tone. The serious one. The one he uses whenever there's no skip button to the conversation. Usually, it leads to him coming over to take care of you like he's your mother. Which sounds great in theory but doesn't always apply wonderfully in practice.

Sometimes you don't want him to see you looking green and gross from fever sweat; sometimes you just want to be alone and recover on your own without having him watching so dramatically concerned over your shoulder. And now, you wouldn't want him to burst in with your hand still in your panties, a sweaty, bothered, horny mess for him to be left shocked and possibly disgusted by. Maybe disgusted is a big word. Or maybe it's not. How inappropriate is it to masturbate with an unknowing friend on the other end of your phone? Is it even legal?

"I'm fi-fine, Jungkook." You lie through gritted teeth. You can't possibly be fine. You've put yourself in the worst situation and you still don't do shit to get out of it. Something is very much wrong with you.

The logical thing to do, the sensible one, would be to either end the conversation, hang up and then eventually finish yourself; or else, take the thing out of your panties, possibly throw it the further away from you and keep the conversation on if that's what you wish to do.

It would certainly not be to ask for him to turn up the setting because you now really much want to come.

"You don't sound fine."

"But I am."

"How much did you drink?"

"Not that much, Guk." He makes you frown, almost rips a curse out of you. Because all this serious talk is diverting you from your pleasure. It's not like you're going to have fucking alcohol poisoning. You didn't drink that much, honestly. The drinks were not even that heavy, except for the two disgusting shots your friend forced in your hands. "Seriously, I'm good." The building up pleasure has brought a new awareness to your brain, and honestly, you feel way more alert than before. You're far from drunk, no matter how much your behaviour seems to contradict that. You're good. You'd be perfect if he'd shut up or if he'd start half seducing you as he does. Maybe he could talk about your nipples again and what you should do with them.

He did say that. Now that you come to think of it. On top of buying you those toys, he did guide you as to what to do with some of them, how you could use them. They were not his direct advice, they were the lady's but still, he felt the importance to share them with you.

"If you are then just answer the question, how much?"

"Okay in a sec but can you turn up the toy's intensity, please?"

"Turn what?" You almost bark then. The whistling f of a very practical, very useful word you shouldn't yell at him rings to your own ear but you're strong enough to hold back. "Ah the thing, yeah, sure." What a sweetheart. A bit slow, but lovely. Your whole body contracts violently when the newly powered wave hits, the beginning of a moan escaping because it's so good, it's almost painful. "I had like two shots of-" Ah. "Something. I don't know what it was, just-" Fuck. "Gross as- uh." Holy shit, that's good.

You can't believe you've judged this intricate, revolutionary technology so bad before. "And then, like, a martini or two, barely and- and-" You're so fucking close. Each time feels like the final ascension except you get back to square one whenever the vibration drops back to stillness too quick to your liking. It's pure torture. And having to make a fucking list of your consumption that's so far back in your brain right now, especially when you know that it's pointless, is not helping.

"Wait-"

"Jungkook-" You don't know if you're begging him to stop thinking now, not get to the conclusion his logical train of thoughts is trying to lead him to, or if you're begging him to help you cum, maybe be nice to the bunny which only seems to be kind to him and make him make you cum.

"Why did you ask me to turn the thing up?" He already knows the answer. You can hear in his tone that he already knows. And frankly, he's a dumb ass for not realizing sooner. "No, you're joking. You wouldn't- not when I'm talking to you."

"When if not then?" Maybe frustration has brought you some bravery, or maybe pleasure has burned the very last remaining functioning cells of your brain.

"Uh?"

It's probably gone too far now. It still feels like he owns the key to the phenomenal orgasm you can smell coming. If you were to hang up now, you wouldn't even know how to make this shitty thing work. And it's not enough. Still.

Shit.

You're definitely wailing in a second now. The next sound you mean to conceal is a sob. Why can't you reach it? And how can you be so hyper-focused on it, it doesn't seem to matter what's going on with Jungkook.

You've gone crazy. Or perhaps you're drunker than you thought yourself to be. The last wave hits differently. It's straight-up overstimulation when you haven't even come once yet. Doesn't feel very nice but at least, it's the push you need to finally lift it up a bit, make a pause and eventually show some consideration to Jungkook.

"So you've been arguing with me, saying it sucks when really you were-"

"It did suck before you changed the setting." You assert again. Because nagging is the thing you're most talented at doing, apparently.

Silence ensues. In the defeating quiet you realize even the discreet humming of the toy has stopped. He's turned it off.

Something akin to shame is finally showing the tip of its nose. It's been fucking late to the party, you note with a growing, you know to become, devastating mortification. Exhaustion and tipsiness are keeping your conscience quite numb but you don't give a chance to sober-you who'll wake up tomorrow with this awful incident engraved in her memory.

Why can't he say something? Essentially, it's his fault. It's always his fault. He makes you feel things you shouldn't and make you do things you wouldn't. You can't think properly. You're being fucking chaotic and he's responsible for that. Even you know it's reaching. You're not that petty and mean.

In a whisper, dipped in sincerity and shame, you apologize. "Sorry, Jungkook."

"For what?" Because he can't let you off the hook that easily, can he?

"Are you seriously going to make me say it? You know why!" Here comes angry-you again. Getting mad and rude for no rational reasons, and here, awfully unfairly. He really deserves better.

"No, I-" You may have broken him. Jungkook has never been the most eloquent person. Between lisping and stuttering and stopping mid-sentence to let you complete for him his missing words, he's never been the best at talking. But even for him, even knowing his history, you find him pretty affected. Possibly all messed up. There's not even the hint of sensible thought. A void filled with "uh" and "tsk" and lips smacking and hums, it's like he's ceased to function. Maybe if you just hang up and from then on, just pretend it's never happened, both of you can get away with the situation. It's an option.

"Jungkook, seriously, I'm sorry. Let's say it was a fucking, uh, drunk lapse of judgment on my part and- yeah, never mention it again."

"Yeah, okay." He whispers after a while. He sounds really shaken up. "But it's fine, I'm not mad, I'm just-"

"Bamboozled?" You suggest, heart constricted, not ready to joke yet but so desperate to obtain at least a smile from him to prove yourself that it's okay and you didn't fuck it up too bad.

"Bamboozled, indeed." He chuckles, a bit breathless on the phone. You can't help the big sigh that escapes you when relief rushes through you. He doesn't sound too upset with you. "I'm really not mad, I just wouldn't have- I wouldn't have expected this, from you."

Of course not. It makes you cringe. You bury your face in your pillow and release the most intense quiet cry you could manage.

"Sorry." You say again, quiet. Your eyes are prickly. This night is such a mess. You can't make out how you're feeling. It's like your reactions and your reflections all come to their own rhythm, inappropriately, unmatching each other's and certainly unmatching the current situation.

"Stop. And don't-" If you're decomposing yourself progressively, at least, he seems to be getting back to his senses. Voice clearer and more present. "You sound so upset now. Are you embarrassed?" It's a smile you hear in his words. You don't have the right to be mad at him but honestly, you would have hit him in the ribs if he were in front of you.

"Is it even necessary to ask?" You grumble face half suffocating still in the pillow. Oh, here's another solution. Suffocating yourself to death.

"I think so. I mean I bought them and I turned it on for you, I should have- I couldn't have known but I should have. It's fine honestly."

"It's not."

Stop pretending, you fucking liar. Even if he acts quite calm, nonchalant, you can hear a very slight difference to his usual tone. He's not sincerely, honestly, a hundred per cent okay and chill with the situation. He's faking casualness but he's not entirely it.

"It is."

"It's not. I'm just gonna die, Jeon." That makes him laugh even though you're only half-joking. You don't know if it's possible to die from embarrassment. One thing is for sure, if it's possible, you won't survive the night.

"No, you're not, baby. It's fine." Jeon Jungkook is the sweetest, needless to say. You should hang up. Apologize again, hang up and pray for him to forgive you and eventually forget all about it. But you remain on the phone because you're so desperate for his approbation and his love and any sign of reassurance from him. And he's giving it to you. When he could probably have a little rest of his own. If it's awkward for you, you can't even imagine for him. But he accepts to stay and reassures you. What a cutie. "Did you cum?"

You choke on your own saliva. More than taken aback, actually shocked. How dares he?

Or can you say that? Can you act offended when you've just done what you did? In any case, how are you even supposed to answer that question?

"You- It's just that I turned it off and we- I was just wondering if you did..." That sounds about right. That sounds like Jungkook being curious and wording this curiosity without necessarily anticipating how you'd take it. It must be part of his plan, his 'let's be the closest, let's share everything' plan he mentioned a few months back. You're not ready, won't ever be if that's what it'll look like.

You are the problem. Apparently, you can get yourself off when the poor boy is on the phone with you unbeknownst, but you still have a hard time talking about sex with him. "...because it sounds awful if you did not."

And it is. It is horrible. You'd imagine that after getting caught, feeling so embarrassed and guilty, your cunt wouldn't still be quivering and begging for you to pay attention to it again. But you've taken it so far. Made it discover new incredible sensations of course it'd still be obsessed with it and with the climax the toy teased it with.

You groan in your pillow again. Not sure how he'll interpret it. Not sure how you want him to interpret it. Should you just talk to him? He could hang up too. If really he didn't want to partake in this mess he could hang up, he could talk about anything else.

"Listen, you don't ever have to be embarrassed with me, you know that." That's reaching. You want to tell him that he can't ever say that to someone, he can't ever become anyone's mat to wipe their dirty shoes on. He should be the one feeling awkward, being mad at you, except he reassures you again. "And when you just proceed on getting yourself off while I was talking- worrying about your fucking health..." He snorts before he can finish. "How dare you act coy with me!" He's just laughing too hard now, contributing wholeheartedly to the burning flush on your cheeks. Well, you deserved it.

"Is that it? You're going to bring this up each time you'd want something from me?" You sound so upset, even to your own ears. It results in his laughter dying down pretty quickly.

"I think so, yeah." You don't add anything. You don't want to be rude. Still hope for any kind of magic word you don't even know that he could mutter to you and that'll help cure your heart and soul. Therefore you can't tell him goodbye and hang up. You wait for him to do it. Except he doesn't. It's late as fuck too. He might be working later today. Why isn't he hanging up? "If I'm talking about it, you should know that it's fine. I don't mind." An asshole and a cutie. "You okay, babe?"

The simple hum you tried to aim for turns into half of a whimper half of a moan. You're not okay. Any part of your being won't let you lie and pretend.

"Do you want me to turn it on?" For fuck's sake. "I'll hang up and leave it on so you just- it'll turn itself off when there's no battery left anyway."

"Jungkook." Your stern voice is a threat. It doesn't have to be further explained, he gets it.

"What?" He sounds aggravated. You can imagine him raising his hands to the skies, upset and losing patience as he's only trying to make it better for you and oh women are so complicated. Something like that. "Oh my God. Just get yourself off and feel better after."

"You don't tell me what to do." Childish but there's not much left of your brain. "Well, you don't even fucking know what to do with yourself right now. Am I right or am I right?" He whisper-yells back at you. Very mean.

"Asshole." It's a tiny whisper under your breath but you're certain he hears it even if he completely ignores it.

"Listen, since you can't even- how old are you, seriously?"

"Fuck you." Barely louder. You definitely know he's heard this time, but still, he decides to dismiss it. He's always been more productive than you.

"I'll turn it on and hang up. You take care of yourself like a big girl, alright?" He probably believes that you can't get yourself to ask for what you want aka a wild night with the fucking toy you can't get to work yourself. But it's not actually the case. Honestly. Now all you can think about -besides the whole very humiliating moment when he caught you in the act- is the way it kept torturing you, bringing you very high but never enough. It started to hurt at the end, brought impatient frustrated tears to your eyes. You don't even think you could finish with it.

Maybe it's inappropriate to seriously consider it. Maybe you won't ever learn your lesson.

Before you even get to word your refusal, the thing is on. It's on the same devilish setting as earlier. The merciless wave. Fuck.

"Don't! It's not- it won't even make me cum, stop it!"

"What? Why not?"

"I don't know the setting is weird." You start explaining through the thicker pout to have ever existed. You're really considering having him solve your climax. You've gone crazy.

"What's wrong with it? Tell me, I'll put on one you like."

Fuck.

You are doomed.

What are you supposed to do with a guy like this?

"I don't think there is." You can hear the frustration from his end before he even says a word. It's written in the stars that in a second he's going to bring it all up, the part when you got off and pester that you can't still be complaining about the fucking toy. "No, I mean it's- the one I liked, the last one you clicked on, it's like-" Fuck, you're really doing this. "A wave. You know? It grows crescendo but it always stops right before- right when it's really good. And I just couldn't- because the good part doesn't last long enough and, yeah."

"Wait, let me look." He sounds a bit further away from you then. He's logged back into the app, you can tell. And with his tiny "hm" and his "so...", he sounds the way he does when your computer is being difficult and he's trying to fix it because you won't pay a professional to do it when you have this nerd populating your entourage. "Ah. You want the high moment to last longer?" "Yes." You can picture him nod to himself, frowning his eyebrows and sucking his lips in the way he does when he's super focused.

"Like that?" You wouldn't know because the toy is lost somewhere, you can hear it but not see it. You ask him to wait for a second and it stops altogether. Doesn't make it easier to find it but it wasn't lost that far. Once you have it in your hand, you gulp, ashamed, not sure if you could ever play with this thing again. But the other guy on the phone doesn't seem to have his motivation falters. You're not the one telling him to try again, on his own, he executes.

It's hard to tell in your hand, the vibrating ears hugged tightly in your palm, if it's going to be satisfactory enough. If it's precisely the thing that was missing from earlier. It follows the pattern you asked him though. Still to a growing intense high that lasts for approximately a good ten seconds rather than the lame 2 seconds from earlier.

"I think so..."

"Okay then. You... mute yourself and then- Uh, no. I should mute myself so- or we both mute ourselves?" He's not really with you anymore. Lost in his own head amongst those seemingly very difficult questions. You don't even get where he's trying to get at. Wasn't he supposed to hang up?

"Why would you stay?"

"It's just- it's me doing it. There's no setting for what you want, it's me doing it. I have to draw the frequency on my phone."

"There's an option for that?"

"Yes. There's even one to have it follow audio!" He points out with way too much enthusiasm. He might have really found a new passion.

"Sounds like high tech."

"Yep."

"Sounds expensive as hell."

He laughs in the mic, snorts even before he brushes it off. Quite frankly, no matter what you'd have to say to him, he'd always do as he wishes. If spending ridiculous amounts of money on ridiculous things for ridiculous you is what he wants to do, he won't let anyone, not even you, tell him not to.

You don't know what to say, he's not saying anything either. He suggested something quite insane: he'd stay. While his finger would be drawing shapes on his screen to actively give you your pleasure, he'd stay on the phone with you. Maybe it's a bit hypocritical or ironical, how it sounds crazy to you now while ten minutes ago, you had no problem doing it without him knowing. That's probably the main issue here, him knowing. That changes everything.

"But if you stay-"

"We can't both mute ourselves because I won't hear if you ask me to change something or- so you, you just stay like that and I'll mute myself."

"Jungkook, you muting yourself won't change my awareness of you being here."

"But maybe you'll forget about it?"

"Jungkook."

"What?" He sounds contrite then. Like an upset child who's being argued with. He's trying so hard but you make it so difficult, it seems.

There's just one thing holding you back. Until now you couldn't quite pinpoint it. And it's hard to resolve an issue you can't name.

But it just hit you. His way of insisting while making it seem like he does it for you only, to help you out and doesn't necessarily find his part in the cake.

"Do you want to?"

"Uh?"

"You sound like- I don't know what you sound like. You're confusing. If you're just trying to give me a hand and solely that then hang up and I'll just- whatever."

"Oh."

"Of course, it makes no sense for you to do this for me and stay if you don't want to, I mean." He takes forever to answer. For a second, you even peek at your screen wondering if he didn't simply quit the conversation.

It's really all you need to know. If somehow, to some extent, he wants you or at least, wants to partake in this genuinely. You don't want it if it's just a bro hand. You can hardly live with what you've done if he's utterly uninterested. But if he does want it, even a little bit, you might be wrong but you feel like everything would turn out to be fine.

"It's not that hard of a question." You try again because it almost feels like he's forgotten you from how long he's remained silent. He had put you on the spot, in this very conversation too, so many times, you have the right to do the same to him, at least once. "Do you want to stay?"

He cracks up. It's the very hard kind of laughter. With the boyish chuckles, mixed with the squeaky intakes of air. The one that always brings a smile to your face and usually drags you along the fit.

You have no idea what it means right now. It's probably the least appropriate time for it to show up. Therefore instead of making you smile it only reinforces the headache slowly growing at your temple.

"Aah." He starts by exhaling longly. You can hear the grin fixed on his face. "Yes." Your heart trips in your rib cage. You should have guessed it but you couldn't have imagined this answer. And him laughing to tears like a fucking deranged infant doesn't help. "Shit, sorry." He apologized when the remnant of what sounds definitely like a giggle resonates in through the phone.

"What's so funny, Guk?" Your words don't match your tone. You're high under pressure, unsure of what's actually going on. Jungkook is not cruel, you've known him long enough to know that he wouldn't deliberately hurt you, wouldn't mess with you so bad, for so long, even for a great laugh. Still, you can't be convinced that he's sincere. Seriously, how could you? The dude won't stop fucking laughing.

"Nothing, I'm just- I didn't realize until you asked me the question that I wanted to." Oh. "I'm an idiot."

"Welp." Could have told you sooner but I thought you knew.

"Mean. And, uh," It sounds like he's tossing and turning in bed again. You bet he's just gotten the exact same position as before. He's like those cats that turn around in circles again and again until they settle for the initial spot. When he starts talking again, his voice is hardly a whisper, you assume he's holding the mic very close to his mouth. "I should ask you too. Do you want to?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want it, moron." Patience has run thin. Now that you're reassured you don't have to be ashamed and embarrassed anymore, you can simply be annoyed as you get with him.

Honestly, you're still feeling abashed but he doesn't need to know that.

"Quit being mean. It's not my fault I'm slow." He says, faking deep pity and it does make you snort. "Okay, well..."

"Well, indeed."

"You're making this awkward!" You roll your eyes. Feels like you can sort this out. If you do take out the very blatant, scorching awkwardness, it's a very regular interaction between you. Sounds like any other day except in a second he's going to press a finger to his phone in hopes to make you cum.

"Your whole existence is awkward."

"Shut up. Let's just fucking start." He groans as if you're the one belating the initial step –you are but so is he.

"I don't have the fucking remote." He tells you to shut up again, and this time, when you hear him hum to himself when he's opening the app, there's a recognizable brushing noise falling directly in your ear.

"You put your earbuds on."

He doesn't answer but you're sure he's registered the question.

Fine.

If he doesn't want to give you an answer you'll just make up your own. Don't you put earbuds on to hear better? Just saying.

"Put the thing on."

"Oh my God, Jungkook-" You take back your own admission. He's the one, solely, all alone, making it painfully awkward. Sounding like a newly pubescent teen trying to initiate sex. "Could you be any smoother?"

"But-" He sighs. "Do you want me to?" How do you ask your best friend you've may have been in love with for officially a couple of months to please act like an ideal lover even if it's just very short-termed? He sounds willing. But asking is the most difficult part. "I can be- or do whatever you want, I just don't know-"

"I like it when you call me baby." Your whole face is scrunched up in a perfect picture of your intense embarrassment. Formalities need to get fucking out of the way and it's precisely what you've just tried to do. But holy shit, it's painfully embarrassing.

"Oh. Do you now?"

Here comes the smirk. Can't see it. Can hear it clearly. It's pretty much louder than his words even.

You want to tell him to forget it all. That it's not going to work if each fucking second he makes you feel like he's going to be using whatever you say or whatever you do against you later on. You decide to demonstrate exemplary patience, reminding yourself that he's not cruel. Admittedly.

Perhaps you're the idiot and it's all your fault. Because you've just admitted (without him even asking) that you like (and into these circumstances, that it turns you on) to have him call you baby. Thing that he does already every time he starts coddling you.

"Okay then." He startles you, clearing his throat. You wonder if he's as anxious as you are, or at least, a tiny bit nervous. For the most part, he doesn't seem like it. Then again, he's quite good at pretending.

It shows soon after when he starts again, this time with the gentle, soft voice he hardly ever uses with you. There's a tiny newcomer, a certain edge that gives it some firmness and that enchants you. That's exactly what you wanted him to be. "Put it on, babe."

You nod wordlessly, omitting that he can't see you and do as told. Slipping the toy under the waistband of your panties, guiding the ears aside your clit. There's a very faint buzzing coming from them. You barely feel it and you suppose it's just there to have you accommodate better.

"Are you still dressed?"

"It's just my panties and a big shirt." Your shirt you'd add if you had a bit more courage. You hope he's going to let you keep it.

"Take your panties off." The part of you who's his best friend wants to nag, tell him that maybe he should have asked that before demanding you place the toy on your cunt but you feel generous and merciful, and also desperate and tired of your orgasm being stalled for so long. "Are they soaked from earlier?" Okay, this shit's going to be hard. There's no coming back. Strangely, it's just now that it's really hitting you. Even if it's going well, there is no way, you'll ever forget his velvety smooth whisper saying those words. There's no way you're helpless cunt ever forgets.

They are, by the way. You don't even get how you've been able to keep them on and ignore the uncomfortable stickiness for this long. Just sliding them along your thighs feels disagreeable.

"Y/N." Sounds like you're getting scolded. And even if you particularly like the way he just said your name, with that same peculiar edge from earlier, a little sharper then, how are you supposed to answer that? "What did you say earlier? That it can't only be for you, is that right?"

"Yes." You admit sheepishly because now you're definitely getting scolded. It brings flush on your only newly temperate cheeks and you don't even hate it.

"Then I'll give you everything, I told you I would but I'll need you to give me some back. Can you do that?" He sounds so strict, how can you like it so much? You can literally feel the electricity along your spine, sliding down to go faint in the hot mess between your thighs and that's ridiculous. You hate being talked to that way, usually, probably because it's never him doing it. Jeon Jungkook might be your ultimate kink. And somehow, he figured it all out. That whatever he'd do would fit you perfectly well. Also, he might be turning like that because undeniably, you're a brat. "Can you?" He insists again because whilst you've been busy trying not to hyperventilate, he's been waiting for one answer.

"Yes. Yes, I can. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, it's fine." You should want to bite him. Why insist so much if it's to end up leaving you off the hook so easily? You know though, for a fact, awfully bothersome to your ego, that if he were in front of you presently, you'd give him puppy eyes and batting lashes, sad pouty lips and probably tend your neck to invite him to gently pat your hair. "Tell me, are your panties soaked?" "I think I ruined them..."

"You did, didn't you?" He's laughing a bit, kind of full of himself for some reasons. Maybe he knows that it's mainly his fault they ended up this way. Maybe he knows they are not the only pair fallen victim to simply the thought of him. "Was it worth it?"

"You're taking care of me so I'd say yes." A chortle. A purr that you interpret into something you like a lot. It sounds like he's taken your response for exactly what you wished him to. A tease. He makes your belly churns and twists, turns your nerves from your heart to your noggins haywire. The least he can allow you to do, the least you'd like to do, is for him to be affected by you.

It starts with a gentle buzzing. It's nothing much. Nothing at all, you'd say if you'd let your greediness and impatience talk. There's something else doing it for you, for now. Jungkook's breath, sort of heavy, slow, rocking you with warmth. Knowing he's here and here to please you; you're laid in bed, naked from the waist down, wet and about to make it all better thanks to him; the picture itself makes it all for you.

"How is it?" Jungkook asks after some time. It's been silent. You haven't said much, in fact, you haven't said anything yet. Not that ready to demand more, and not feeling enough for moans or whimpers or whatever to be stolen from you.

"Boring." You admit. "S'not what you were supposed to give me." Through a thick pout, you deplore.

It doesn't work. He doesn't care. He doesn't fucking care when he's playing exactly the role you've implicitly asked him to play. "Have you said please, even once?" You hate that he's virtually pinning you down with exactly what turns you on.

"I- Probably." You haven't said much. You haven't been so explicit, so telling simply because you couldn't, but surely, you said please. Didn't you?

"Not probably. You did not. And on top of that, you're complaining." He's figured out exactly what you wanted, what you needed. Therefore, as naturally as it came for him, you fit it your own role easily.

"I'm not complaining. I was just- pointing it out. Sorry."

"You can apologize a lot but you can't even say please. Not once." Well, fuck. You never thought that he could be mean. Awfully mean. You wished, when you let your mind wander there one too many time, a bit too deep, that he'd be like that. Sweet and soft and tender the way he is, always, but also, bad, kind of harsh. "Ask kindly, once."

"Jungkook-"

"I'll give you everything you want. Just once."

"Please, Jungkook." You know he's satisfied with what you offer him because you don't have to wait another second for him to give you precisely what you were waiting for. It's timid, follows the crescendo built you were looking for except it's not intense. It's the first step however it's incredibly effective. It feels as good as the first time. "Plea-please." Manifestly, it is the secret word, the passcode to your pleasure because the intensity you're craving for finally reaches you. It does in an electrifying peak, that lasts long, just like you asked, it's so good, the feeling so perfectly indulgent to your needs, maybe even too much, you squirm, part the little ears from your clit, hissing. "Shit, Jungkook!"

"Too much, baby?" The hypocrite, with his concerned tone, doesn't even take a break from activating the vibration, from keeping on building the intensiveness. You can tell it's he too, him really doing it live, as in it's not absolutely regular, the built sometimes takes longer, sometimes the volume stronger, other times weaker. It's undeniable, every minute of it feels different from the next, you can't even omit for a second that it's him doing it. And he's doing it so well.

"Per- fect, just- sensitive." You moan out. Back arching, right leg twitching. The next brush is particularly nice, goes so far you believe you might come on the spot. Now you definitely can't hold back even if you wanted to. The sounds that come out of your mouth, foreign to your own ears, are not even yours. They come straight from your body, straight from an excess of pleasure you try to deal with, to handle, when you clearly can't. You're alone, and it's you ultimately controlling the power on your own body, you can pull out, even slightly, every time it comes hard and strong and you ought to twitch uncomfortably. You wonder how it'd be if he were here with you. If he forgot just for a while that you were his best friend, the girl who used to be older and taller and has turned, with the years, into this tiny little thing because he just kept on growing and growing, sprouting like a fucking redwood, and now feels like he needs to protect and care for you. If he were there, and he could forget that, you bet, his present voice, heated, scorching, is telling you this, that probably, he'd hold you down, crush your body with his, hand pressing your thighs down and apart, and force you to take the pleasure in its entirety. You imagine him merciless, slipping sweet words in your ear, while he'd have you literally scream from overstimulation.

And then his voice, the perfectly alluring thing, concludes to let you know it won't happen like that. His voice will make you come.

"You sound so good." Especially, if he keeps saying shit like that, with this tone, soft yet strong and highly, terribly affected. He's breathing hot and heavy in your ears. Is he touching himself?

"Please, Jungkook." You implore, vainly, hips slowly grinding against the toy, pressed by your palm on your sensitive centre.

"Especially begging, 'sound so, so good." He's not touching himself. He sounds bothered, but not enough, he doesn't stutter like you do, his voice doesn't jump and dip, stops momentarily like yours does. Shit, you wished he would play with his cock. Fuck, you want to play with his cock. So fucking bad.

"Y-you like it?" You ask, not because you're curious to know, he's said it already, but because you won't ever get tired of hearing him say it, in all those different ways.

"I do, baby. I love hearing you." You can't help the curse that leaves your lips a bit harsh. You're so close. So so close. Eyes filled up to the brim, tip of your nose wet. How many times have you thought, already, that you were seriously going to fall over? "You gonna cum?"

"I can't-" You sob, whine. There's a tear spilling from your right eye. "It's too much." So attentive to your every word, the intensity drops drastically. It still buzzes, discreet, way more tolerable. Ironically, if you can now bear it, you know it's not enough to lead you to your climax either. "Help me, make me cum, Guk."

"Use your fingers." He's been nice, essentially, you can only be good to him. Without even having to think about it, you dip your fingers in the mess that is your cunt. Two fingers slip in between your lips too easily, you could add a third if only there wasn't the bunny taking a bit too much room, and your fingers were longer, and your hips not so twitchy. If Jungkook was here, if only he was here, he'd fit his two fingers and it'd be enough. You bet it'd be enough. You bet his pretty, long, tattooed fingers would stretch you so well and make you come in a heartbeat. "Fuck yourself with them."

It's so gratifying. Having him humming in your ear encouragements and compliments. He's sweet, sweet, sweet. Excellent with his voice. Fuck, he must be unreal with his fingers, with his mouth, with his fat cock.

Diligently, you drag your fingers in and out, it's only mildly agreeable when you're sopping wet, almost gaping. Until he draws on his phone the same magnificent pattern from before.

You wish it'd last longer. It's precisely what you needed, the ideal combination. Along with his words.

You know if you come he'd have to stop. He'll stop calling you baby, stop saying how sexy you are, use all those nasty words he never does and talking like that, with this voice, with this heat in his tone. It's a bothering thought at the back of your mind you have to actively push away.

There's nothing you can do when harshly, yet with a please, he demands you to cum.

You can feel your cunt, wide open from both your spread legs and the excitation, getting wet, growing soaked. You can actually feel it as it happens before you explode. Clenching violently around your fingers, spilling all over them, you might squeak and scream and moan his name continuously, you barely hear yourself through your ringing ears.

"Fuck, Jungkook..." You sigh. Laying there, boneless, hand dripping up to your wrist. He's chuckling. "Fuck."

"Feeling better?" You hmm in response. Words sound like too much effort right now. Your brain is working slow. Extremely slowly. There's a multitude of thoughts forming though, germinating from a strange ground.

One, in particular, does, enlarging ridiculously much next to the others. You could enjoy this luck. You could just bathe in the lovely, perfect haze. Accept that the sky is perfectly blue without a cloud, with even a rainbow somewhere. Maybe a double rainbow even.

There's a very, very dark, very, very large cloud invading your perfect sky though. And because tears, of another kind, have already located your eyes, the new ones fit in, mixing up with them and taking over them with utter ease. What the fuck have you done?

"Jungkook, I'm so sorry-" You start with a tremble in the voice. There's a fat lump in your throat.

"Why? What's going on, baby?" He's sweet as honey, back to his usual self, worried, and you're horrible.

"Your- I didn't even think about her and-" There's a sob bubbling out of your mouth. "It's not me. I didn't mean to-"

"What are you talking about?"

"Jiyeun." The taste in your mouth when you say her name, is unbearable. You know full fucking well you shouldn't say her name. You shouldn't be allowed to. How dare you. Spoil it when you spent way too long virtually getting in this guy's, who's someone else's boyfriend, pants.

"Dumbass." It makes you choke on your own sobs. "It's over. With her, I mean. We broke up." Ah. You want to ask a billion questions. Starting with "again?". Soon followed up by a "why didn't you say anything, dickhead?". You spent the whole fucking night, getting shit faced and spiritually crying in the club over a couple that does not even exist anymore. Then you'd ask for how long they are planning to be over. "For good, this time." You're barely drying up your fat crocodile tears when he calls you an idiot again, says something about how he's not that kind of guy and you should know it.

Feels better. The thunderstorm is gone.

Alcohol and horniness and hardcore loving are such a terrible combo you need to avoid.

"Cuddles." Tiredly, half-dead, but still alive enough to be greedy, to feel sensible, skinned and want him to give you more. "Come cuddle." He's late to answer, delays it as if you don't desperately need his response.

It's terribly quiet and still. The dark of the night seems even more sombre. He can fix everything if only he'd give you the answer you desire.

"You sure?"

"Always." You say, maybe too honest. He doesn't seem to mind, agrees with a snort.

"Alright."

He appears in front of you in the blink of an eye. Literally. That blink does last longer than usual. The orgasm may have crushed you. You close your eyes and when you open them back up, he's here. Standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, dressed in all black and oversized, as usual. You look up, eyes squinted, bothered by the light coming from the hallway. He's staring. Gaze brushing, from your head to your toes, seemingly slowing down when they reach your naked thighs.

"What?" You mumble, embarrassed, one hand sliding down just to make sure the hem of the shirt is covering your crotch. You didn't even put your panties back on. You may or may not have wiped yourself clean enough with the wet wipes wisely sitting on your bedside table -you thought about it really hard but you can’t remember if you actually did it.

"You never mentioned it was my t-shirt you were wearing." You shrug. You'd have a better come back if you weren't so tired and if it wasn't simply true. "Would have been nice to know." He says, kneeling down next to your bed. The latter is low, mattress barely raised from the ground and even when he's crouching down, he's hovering above you, looking down on you. "Easier to picture." He adds quieter the closest he comes to you. It's enough words to know who he is at the moment. In what form, what version of your Jeon Jungkook, has come to visit. It's the gentle one. The one whose voice doesn't raise, doesn't feel as animated as his usual one when he spends his time being a clown to make everyone laughs. The one that made you fall, the first time. Not exactly the one you had on the phone with you earlier and even if you like him, if you adore him in fact, you feel sort of uneasy, worried. He might be gone forever, this one.

Unless it is him. His hands reach forward, large and warm, they lie on your thighs. The fingers brush up a bit, to the hem of his shirt, and they stop there. He looks up from them, straight in your eyes, smiles, digs the tips in the meat of your thighs before he lifts you up, aiming for the border of your bed.

God. You hope it'll happen again. But differently. More in-depth. He'd be less dressed, he would manhandle you, before he'd do some unnamable things to you. But another day. One when you're not almost dead. When you feel hornier and less soft and desperate for direct comfort to your swollen heart. It could be tomorrow when you wake up. If he's up for it. Please God, make it so he's up for it.

Jungkook hops on the bed behind you, huffs comfortably, holding your cover by a corner to bring it up and over the two of you. He fits behind you too naturally for it to be the first time. He doesn't seem to mind that you're so underdressed, compared to the other times, that you still have some remnant of your orgasm on you, that it's different. His arm sliding around you, holding a bit too tight, pressing you a tiny bit too hard, you're still hot from earlier. It's perfect though. You don't want him to move an inch and you hope, the hand that's wrapped on his forearm, makes him understand.

"M'not too clingy?" His own cheek pressed hard to your own, he asks, which is weird. How could he still wonder? He's never ever been too clingy. Even when you were kids and he followed you around before even asking if he could, he wasn't too clingy. The closest, the better. You deny with a uh-uh. He calls out for your name when you're fighting to keep your eyelids open. It's the most comfortable, the warmest you've ever felt. Like a cocoon of pure love and adoration. On top of it, there's his hard arms around you, his hard thigh pushing against yours, his crotch -with the feel of his member, slightly stiff- glued to your butt, and his chest, as hard as the rest, holding your back up like a strong wall. "I promise I didn't plan the whole toys thingy for that."

"For what?" Sleepily, you wonder, actually confused from exhaustion. To cuddle with you? Like you haven't in so, so long. Why would he try to apologize for it? "To use them with you."

"What a shame." You don't think he can understand. Diction is not something you care for at the moment. The hard laugh bubbling in his chest, rumbling, shaking your whole, lets you know he did, in fact, get it.

"You're so-" He starts but the thought dies way too soon for you to even try and complete it yourself. "I'll have a billion questions for you tomorrow."

"No." You whine. Because he's fucking up everything. If he believes you'll say it all to him, there's no way you can. There's no way you will. He chuckles.

Doesn't seem to be taking you seriously.

"Yes. And you'll answer every single one of them." He gives a sweet but pressing kiss to your neck.

"No."

"I adore you." Fucking hell. "I broke up with Jiyeun because I adore you too much. I realized I want to spend all my time and energy on my best friend." You don't even know what he means. You can't even hold your eyelids open now, you can't even keep your hand on his arm, it being too heavy and sleep having taken over most of your body.

You bet he's saying that just because he's guessed it. He's figured you all out and the asshole doesn't mind playing with your soft heart. He knows he'll get anything from you if he's this good. Hopefully, tomorrow, he'll have forgotten about his little interrogation because you're not sure you'll be able to lie. For now, he's holding you way too close for you to care. Whatever. May it last forever, this feeling.

A/N: DON’T HATE ME OKAY?! i know i have an issue with angst and endings, for some reasons, i don’t want to hurt my characters but i can’t get myself to write an actual fully happy, non-ambiguous conclusion, and i’m really sorry for it lmao.

i sincerely hope you enjoyed the last part of The Wishlist! Thank you immensely for anyone who’s followed along, please let me know your thoughts, i really really want to know :)

for now, i’m sending you lots of love and kisses, take good care of yourself and others, see ya very very soon :]

tag list: @safi4x @kai-kai-bookshelf @somewhereinthestarss @hsinmyheart @moonchild1 @monvieesdaebak @pasteljoonie @fangirls94 @jinsalpaca @ggukkieland

#btswriterscollective #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #ggukienet #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #my writing

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liibrii · 4 years ago

Text

fem!Miya!reader x Suna Rintarou || mostly platonic || part of the Third Miya series

Synopsis: A glimpse into your friendship with Suna during your 1st year at Inarizaki High school.

Warnings: barely proofread, general stupidity, there's a serial killer joke, reader is a lil shit

wc: 1.6k

a/n: naming chapters is hard 😭 as always feedback is greatly appreciated and if you wanna be tagged in future chapters let me know!

Friendship with Suna is one of those where you can't quite remember how or when it started. One week he was just that lanky guy sitting at a desk to the right of you, the next week you walked home together and you told him your brothers' embarrassing childhood stories in exchange for chemistry homework. In a way it's an echo of all your childhood friendships forged on the beach with other kids you only knew for a week but during that week you'd take over the world for them if they asked. But the one week friendship with Suna became two weeks, three weeks, and after the fourth you stopped counting.

Suna Rintarou is a funny guy. Not funny as in telling jokes or spouting quips and smirks. He's funny in a way that even now you can't really tell who he is. He's quiet. But not shy in the slightest. He moved over from Aichi and you cringe at the memory of saying: “Oh so that's why ya talk funny. I thought yer just pretentious,“ when he told you. Your ears catch on fire by just thinking about it. So embarrassing. But he must have pretty low standards for his friends because at the time he didn't really seem bothered by your slip of the tongue. The next day he offered you a chuupet and that was enough to buy your undying loyalty.

Suna's a funny guy. You don't know how he became your friend, you don't know what he sees in you that makes him put up with you. But you're glad to have an inside man on the volleyball team.

Years of living together with the same person makes one develop the ability of sniffing out trouble before they even start to happen. In this case it's four empty pudding packages in the trash bin that make you decide to nope right out of there before Tsumu tries to blame you for their mysterious disappearance. Again.

You put on music and walk aimlessly through the streets, one of those walks where it doesn't matter if you get lost because you have no clue where you're headed anyway. Everyone needs a stroll like that from time to time. Often they lead to situations that would otherwise probably never happen. Like running into a serial killer, but luck is on your side today so the only person you run into is a familiar lanky figure stretching by the side of the road. “Sunarin! Didn't expect to meet ya here!“

He looks up and his blushed sweaty face wears the same expression as ever. In the last months you've learned Suna has two expressions, the deadpan one, and the deadpan one with furrowed brows. “O, Miya. Well, I live nearby.“ Oh right, you did pass the bus station where he exits just a song ago. “Taking a stroll, are you?“

“Samu and Tsumu are having a screamin' match right now so I decided to get myself out of there before they'd drag me into it.“

“Tragic. Where are you headed?“

Your destination is 'who cares' so you join Suna on a walk. It's good he already ran his evening route because you're not in the mood to reenact a wanna be healthy person's only free time activity.

Just a short walk between the apartment buildings by the side of the road you reach a path of cobble stones that leads further between trees.

“What? You didn't know there's a park here?“ Suna smirks and you're surprised his face muscles are even capable of stretching so far.

You shake your head, slightly embarrassed. “No, I really didn't. To be fair this neighbourhood used to be ruled by another clan so we never played around here,“ you quickly add as if children clan wars from years ago are a better excuse than simply being unfamiliar with this part of the town.

Suna doesn't comment but the corners of his mouth keep tugging up even after you walk through the park. Or maybe that's because you tripped over nothing while watching a cat cross your path.

“We have a cat back home,“ he tells you and shows you the picture of his little sister with a big fluffy orange cat on her lap.

“So cute,“ you coo, “looks just like ya.“

“Oh yeah, lots of people say she looks just like me. I think I'm more handsome though.“

“No, I meant the cat.“

This time you're the one prepared to jump away form a well aimed kick but Suna only gives you a disappointed glare. “I thought you were the nice Miya.“

You sympathetically pat his shoulder. “Sorry. My sincere condolences. Shall I send some flowers for the funeral of yer last brain cell? Samu always wanted a cat but dad wouldn't let him.“

“Really? Why not?“

“Oh he made the mistake of asking just after the mango incident.“

“The-“

“Only Miyas are allowed to know about it,“ you say, snickering at Suna's furrowed brows. You know curiosity is going to eat at him for weeks to come. Maybe you should come up with a cover story, just in case. “Do ya miss yer friends? Ones from Aichi I mean?“

Suna thinks for a moment, maybe still trying to figure out what a mango incident could possibly be. “Sometimes,“ he says after a while and a poke to his side, “but I met a lot of new people at the dorms. Inarizaki isn't that bad either. There's you and Ginjima, and your brothers sometimes, and ehm,“ he mumbles as he tries to remember whom else he could call a friend.

“If Tsumu or Samu bring this topic up just let them know ya were my friend first,“ you pout. That's the problem with having had siblings in the same class for the entire grade and middle school; all your friends were also their friends. “It can't be easy,“ you say, half trying to make him feel better, and half just changing the topic that's starting to turn his ears red, “movin' over here I mean. Ya really left all ya knew behind for volleyball. That's pretty admirable. Ya just might be as crazy as Samu and Tsumu.“

“Please don't compare me to your brothers,“ says Suna.

“That bad, eh? So what's it like? Livin' in a dorm?“

“Oh. Well. We're four in a room-“

“Yikes. And I thought havin' two other people in your room is a lot.“

Suna laughs. Oh, so he can do that. It suits him, you decide after a moment. “Now take into account that two of those keep leaving dirty socks around.“

“Oh I know what that's like,“ you nod, all too familiar with dirty socks under table, under bed and other parts of bed you'd rather not think about.

“I doubt you'd get in trouble for punching them though.“

“Oh I would.“ You look him over. “Ya don't really look like a punchin' type to me. More a very petty guy. Soy sauce in mornin' tea kind of guy.“

“You're giving me ideas.“

“Thanks, that will be one kit-kat. Or none if ya put some in Samu's water bottle.“

“All in all dorm isn't that bad,“ Suna tells you once you both stop laughing over the prospect of putting soy sauce into Osamu's drink. “Wish I could sleep a bit longer in the morning but what can you do? And I miss mom's cooking. We cook ourselves and the food is good. Usually. It's just not the same, you know? Want a chuupet?“

“Ya brought a chuupet to an evenin' run?“

You still gladly take the fruit stick. It's a rare occasion in which it isn't in danger of being snatched away by one of your co-spawns. You don't comment but the next day a neatly wrapped bento box waits on Suna's table.

Suna doesn't quite remember when you became friends. One day you were a girl from his class that looked suspiciously similar to those loud Twins on the volleyball team (the moment he realised your last name is in fact Miya too he felt incredibly stupid for not noticing sooner), the next day you're hanging with him during breaks and sending him messages along the lines of 'I'll buy you as many chuupets as ya want if ya tell me what happened at practice yesterday, I need to let Tsumu know who's the boss' that usually arrive in the middle of the night. Even if they wake him up your name popping on his screen still makes him smile.

Really it takes impossibly long for Suna to realise he doesn't enjoy being in your presence only because being friends with you is as easy as getting the ball around a block or because you're the one Miya to voluntarily share your food with him.

The moment the cogs finally fell in their place and began to spin, making the little 'there might be something more' thought appear is one he'll remember for the rest of his life, and will quite probably haunt his nightmares too.

That's the thing about emotions (truly the revelations of that day are almost too much for his volleyball focused teenage brain), they take over neurones in charge of sending information around the brain, bribing the ones running toward mouth to run faster than the ones heading towards the comprehension centre, and then you find yourself in awkward situations such as saying your name out loud in the packed locker room followed by: “She's really funny and amazing. I like her a lot.“

But the situation being awkward is the least of Suna's problems as two pairs of almost identical brown eyes stare him down.

Oh, shit.

tag list: @espressons @trashy-simp @nachotrash @megumiisee @foxxtrot-116 @e-wwis

#suna rinataro x reader #suna x reader #suna x y/n #suna rintarou #hqcorenet #hq #haikyuu fanfic #inarizaki x reader #inarizaki x y/n #third miya #libri scribbles

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mammonprotectionsquad · 4 years ago

Note

Let’s say that MC is shy, introverted and would never ever make the first move with Yoosung, how would he try to get close to them?

Do you think it would take him a long time to build up his confidence?

(Pretending that they are classmates or met irl and not through the rfa)

Please don’t do it if it stresses you! I was just wondering about this haha. Sending you lots of love and thanks in advance ❤️

Hooo boy! As someone who is also shy and introverted and was head over heels for a guy that was a dense af himbo and I had to be the one to make the first steps, I can actually relate!

This isn't stressing me at all, I just hope I did this cutie boy justice and that this is what you imagined 😊 and sending lots of love right back to you, sweet anon! 💕

Yoosung and a shy, introverted MC

It took him quite some time to only gather up the courage to greet you when he passed you in the halls, on the way to his next class, or on campus. And even when he finally did greet you, it was a little stammered and his cheeks were bright red.

Eventually the stammering stops and he doesn't stutter anymore, but his cheeks are still flushed.

It takes him a while to notice that you are apparently rather shy and honestly? That's not making things any easier for him. Since he has zero experience in anything dating and relationship wise, he has no clue how to ask you out without making a complete fool of himself.

Also, the thought of getting rejected is scary...

His first instinct is to ask Zen for advice, since he likes to talk about how he's the one who probably knows best about things like that. But being told to "Just ask you out" isn't helpful. At all.

He's so very frustrated and doesn't know what to do. But he also doesn't want to just drop it and try to move on, because even if he doesn't know all too much about you, you seem interesting and cool and he'd love to get to know you better...

"Uuugh, why can't I just be more confident?", he whines and buries his face in a pillow, while once again trying to come up with a plan on how to ask you out on a date.

The RFA really isn't a big help with their so called advice and not even his friends, who are in relationships, can give him useful tips. Because hearing that "It just happened and we eventually started dating", won't get him anywhere in his situation!

And no matter how many times he went through different ways of asking you, whenever he bumps into you at college, his words get caught in his throat, he only mumbles a "Hey..." and pretty much ducks away. All the way to his next class, he'll internally scold himself for being such a coward.

Still, the next time he runs into you, it's pretty much the same.

At some point it's even getting so bad that he actually asks Zen for tips to boost his confidence. Which he regrets fairly quickly again, when all that really happens is him getting low-key roasted for the way he dresses and behaves.

Basically it's back to zero, after that.

Though it would be a lie to say that he didn't consider at least changing his clothing choices. But after thinking it over for another while, he dismisses it again. After all, he wants you to like him for him, not someone he only pretends to be.

It's taking him a couple more weeks, until he finally decides to just pull through. You can't say more than no and at least he could then say that he tried, instead of always getting scared and basically running away.

So the next time he meets you again on campus, he takes a deep breath, but he's fumbling with the straps of his backpack, trying to swallow his nerves so he won't stumble too much over his own words.

"Hey, uhm... I just... wanted to ask if you... would maybe like to go out, sometime? We could... I don't know, go to that new coffee shop, that opened around here? Or maybe a picnic? Or whatever else you might want to do..."

And if you should say yes to his stuttering? Best believe he will smile so brightly, it could give the sun a run for it's money. Not to mention how proud he would be about pulling through, because now he'd finally be going on a date with you!

Masterlist

If you'd like to get added to the tag list, please let me know 💕

@ayamewhump @purpleblushh @ultrasupernini @just-a-key

#request #mysme headcanons #mystic messenger headcanons #mysme #mystic messenger #mystic messenger yoosung #mysme yoosung #yoosung kim #mystic messenger mc #mysme mc #yoosung x reader #yoosung x mc #my writing

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abhorsenbranwen · 3 years ago

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the moment when you find fluffy fanfiction of you and your boyfriend taking a couple's hayride by @abhorsenbranwen

The internet is reacting to the revelation that Sam and Bucky are together by taking to AO3. Sam can't help reading and sending Bucky "Just a Couple's Hayride" after he reads this summary: Bucky is in love and overthinking things when he invites Sam on a couple's hayride.

hayride prompt for the @sambuckylibrary's halloween event 2021 | tysm to scullystwin42 for the header!

just a couple's hayride (fic within a fic)

"Sam," Bucky says, "I was thinking."

"What were you thinking about, Buck?"

That I love you, Bucky thinks, but very pointedly does not say. After all, he has no idea whether Sam feels that way, too. He'd been pretty open about his feelings in an interview he'd given in August, but while Sam definitely hadn't rejected him or changed how he acted after reading the interview, he hasn't really escalated things since then, either.

Sam is usually on top of things. Insightful. That's one of the things Bucky really loves about him. But maybe he has a blind spot where people having feelings for him is concerned. Maybe he just doesn't like men.

Maybe Bucky's still just too much of a mess. That also seems plausible.

Who knew? There could be many reasons.

It's particularly annoying that he can't get drunk as some kind of transparent cover layered with a thin veil of plausible deniability, and he sort of wishes he'd never told anyone that. (Of course, Steve had spilled that particular piece of information to the modern world with no regard for the minor inconvenience it would create for Bucky more than a decade later, so this is probably really on Steve, anyway.)

"You know how Halloween is tomorrow?"

That was a silly question. Of course Sam knows that Halloween is tomorrow. AJ and Cass have been talking about it since Bucky arrived. Sam's even been helping them on their costumes, though he's refusing to let AJ borrow his shield or let Cass borrow his wings.

Sam doesn't call him on this admittedly ridiculous comment, though. Instead, he just says, "Yeah?"

Bucky swallows. "Well - so - after the trick-or-treating, obviously - I mean - do you - I just saw this hayride thing -"

He doesn't mention that it's being advertised as a fun couple activity. They're a couple of guys, anyway, that's cover if he needs it.

It occurs to him that he should possibly be thinking less about cover and more about what he's going to say to Sam once he starts saying something.

If he manages to say something at all. He's not convinced that he will - he's been putting it off for months, what's a little longer? Maybe he can say something when Sam drops him off at the airport, then he'll have a built-in getaway. (Except, a voice inside him says, you're going to be really pissed off if you do that, the answer is yes, he has feelings for you, too, but you have a fucking flight to catch.)

He's also considered just saying it and immediately walking away, but that seems possibly passive-aggressive. Or just cowardly.

Bucky doesn't want to be a coward, he just also doesn't want to talk about his feelings for his partner.

"Sure," Sam says. He's very quick to agree to this, which Bucky feels like is either evidence that he's not feeling it and doesn't want to give Bucky an opening to say something more or is really feeling it quite a lot and is very keen to do a couple's hayride.

It’s very unclear. He considers asking Sarah, but asking Sam's sister about Sam's feelings seems like a sure way for the information to get back to Sam in a thoroughly middle-school way, and Bucky would like to avoid that if at all possible.

It begins to feel a little less unclear when Sam offers Bucky an entirely unnecessary hand up onto the cart. Wagon? Whatever it's called. It's been a very long time since Bucky did something like this - the last time had been before the war, when he and Steve had gone out with some friends and Bucky's sister Rebecca. She'd taken a lot of pictures and written up a narrative of it - he wishes he could track it down, but it seems like it’s probably lost for good.

Bucky had been wondering where he should sit, but thankfully, Sam sort of decides that for him. He gently pulls on Bucky's right hand, and Bucky's more than happy to sit down next to him. He's not sure Sam meant to pull him quite that close, but he's more than happy to go along with it; he's never said no to being in very close contact with his very attractive partner.

The closer, the better, really.

Their thighs are touching, and Sam hasn't let go of his hand. This feels like it might be too long to be just a friend thing or a partner thing. It's probably too long, right?

"What?" Sam asks, and Bucky realizes that he's staring. On the bright side, Sam doesn't seem to mind - there's a smile quickly spreading across his face.

It accentuates his cheekbones. Bucky has always really liked Sam's cheekbones, especially when he smiles.

His heart is starting to race, and his left hand clenches around the hay. Fuck, he thinks. Fuck, fuck - "I -" he tries, and stops. "I - so - the thing is -"

Sam hasn't stopped smiling. "Something you want to share with the class?"

Bucky's heart hasn't slowed down, but he is feeling a little less anxious now. Sam is very anti-toxic masculinity, which Bucky appreciates (even if he still doesn't entirely understand what toxic masculinity is, he's gathered that it's really not great from context clues), but he’s fairly sure that holding hands and stare into each other's eyes like they are now goes beyond “anti-toxic masculinity.”

"Can I kiss you?" Bucky blurts out. He's not entirely sure he'd meant for that to actually come out, but now Sam hasn't stopped smiling, which seems like it's probably a good sign.

"Yeah," Sam says. His voice is soft. "I mean, it's a couple's hayride. We should probably do it properly, we're not just a couple of guys anymore."

Their lips meet, and Bucky tightens his hold on Sam's hand - just a little, not enough to hurt him, Bucky's always conscious of his strength - and when they pull apart, Sam's other hand rises to Bucky's cheek. "We should do that more," Bucky breathes. He's not sure whether he'd rather stare into Sam's eyes or at his lips right now, but he is sure that it's not really possible to do both at once, because he's trying very hard right now and still isn't succeeding.

"We should," Sam agrees, and Bucky leans back in.

reaction on ao3

bucky: and why is it all about me, why couldn't you have found one about you pining for me? sam: this is more fun bucky: for you, maybe

#sambucky fanfiction #winterfalcon fanfiction #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambuckyhalloween2021

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years ago

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Ava & Grace

Ava: Hey Grace: 👋 Ava: How'd it go with gym boy? Grace: 🤞 he's got the hint 👻 Ava: That good, huh Ava: how about the rest, you know, not boys? Grace: we so aren't here to talk about me Ava: Come on Ava: Give me some normal conversation right now Grace: !!!!!!!!! Grace: 100% not gonna be that bitch, talk to ME about what's going on in your oh so dramatic life! Grace: are you okay? Ava: Okay, okay Ava: I'll just come out with it Ava: no sugarcoating Grace: Duh 🚫🍫🍬🍭 Grace: it's not a cheat day Ava: 🤫🤫🤫 Ava: You wanna hear this hot, hot tea or nah Grace: obvs Ava: You'll be the least surprised so there's that Grace: 🚫😱😱😱 Ava: You know when you came here and then married guy couldn't come and then everything fizzled out? Ava: well, it actually did, for nearly a month Ava: but then he came back Grace: OMG Grace: it's literally the MOST 💖📽🎞 like FORGET before Ava: It really was Ava: remember when I got hit by that cyclist? Grace: that was so wild! OH was he the 🚴??? Ava: 😂 Ava: Imagine Grace: your otp Ava: But no, my parents were out of town Ava: and he came to the hospital, to make sure I was okay Ava: and he took me home and looked after me Grace: I'm like about to cry???!!! that's so Grace: 😍😍 Ava: Me too Ava: and of course, I had to go on Holiday like immediately after so that was shit but since then we've been talking and Ava: he's divorcing his wife Grace: I TOLD YOU HE WAS PURE Ava: I know Ava: and I'm sorry I had to kinda lie to you Ava: but I accidentally let slip I had talked to you and he freaked and that's why he first left so Grace: Oh please, if I filmed a storytime about this ALL the comments would be calling me out as #fake Grace: I get it Ava: It does sound pretty unbelievable Ava: even more so if I actually tell you who he is Grace: are you GOING TO???!! 😱😱😱 Ava: May as well, I've had to tell Nancy Ava: Parents and Buster to go Grace: Ugh! so sorry babes Ava: I couldn't tell you before 'cos they kinda know him Ava: knew him Ava: he was one of Buster's friends from School Ava: and his crazy wife is the main girl who bullied Nancy so Ava: that was fun Grace: Really?! wtf Grace: Chelsea is like Grace: so weirdly small Ava: That's why we call 'em villages, even though you're in a big city, the actual communities are ridiculously close-knit, for better and worse Ava: oh and Ava: make it weirder still Ava: you remember that boy from my party, Teddy? Grace: UM obvs I never forget a 💋 Ava: Well, that's his brother Grace: !!!!!!!!!!!!! Grace: do they look alike cos 🧸 is 😍😍 like 🙏🙏 Ava: Kinda Ava: [sends a cute photo he would've been able to send to the fake profile] Grace: oh Grace: my Grace: god Ava: I know Ava: 😩😍 Grace: did he edit his 👀??! I'm so shook 💙 Ava: No, I've seen them up close Ava: they're actually that unreal Grace: I can't even Ava: Guess what Grace: ?? Ava: He said he loves me Grace: NO WAY Grace: 😭😭😭😭 Ava: I know, I know Ava: I can't even Grace: so are you like a thing™ now? Ava: Yeah Ava: that's why I'm telling everyone Grace: Your parents are gonna be so Ava: Ugh Ava: it's going to be a whole thing Ava: with all of them Grace: mhhmmm Grace: like I feel like I know the answer but how did Nancy take it?? Ava: She just Ava: does my head in at the best of times and this was no exception, sadly Grace: at least Buster can't be telling ANYONE how to live their lives Grace: especially 😍💖 Ava: Watch him try though Ava: I'm expecting it though, they'll have to get over it on their own time Grace: 🙄 Grace: I feel that, Ri always thinks she can tell me something Ava: It's so Grace: IKR Grace: full offense babes I'm gonna listen to Janis before you & like no Ava: It's gonna be hellish but they can't do anything about it Grace: 🙏💜🤞 Ava: unless they do in which case bye and feel free to go through my wardrobe 🤷 Grace: duh Grace: but watch me also take your man Ava: 😏 cheek Grace: my crazy would look 😇 next to his ex's Grace: love that for me Ava: 'Til I haunt you crazier Grace: so scared obvs Ava: 😒 Ava: I only just got him, you can't be stealing him Grace: so sorry but like gotta get the full set on that fam now Ava: You better 🙏 my parents take it that personal Grace: 😇🙏💜 Grace: Jesus is totally my bae so Ava: and God's favourite son Ava: leave mine alone 😉 Grace: 😂😂 Ava: So you're not mad at me now, yeah? Grace: lowkey 💔 but not mad Ava: awh please Grace: ILY bitch you know it Ava: ily too 💙 Grace: & now I don't have to 👻💔 his brother so Grace: no way he'll be hitting me up after this Ava: Oh yeah, you're welcome for doing your dirtywork Grace: 💜😂💜 Ava: Has he hit you up then? 👀 Grace: 🤐🤐🤐 Ava: After I just poured my heart out? Ava: Rudeness Grace: you're in a 📽🎞💖 I'm in a 📽🎞😱 starring my crazy Ava: Girl, please Grace: I'm so serious Grace: & so over it Ava: You're not crazy Grace: I'm not not Grace: ask gym boy, but like don't Ava: I'm not gonna sleuth on you, don't worry Grace: if you had you'd see 🧸 on my pics hitting the 💜 Ava: Cute Ava: he must like you or he'd air you Ava: it's not unheard of Grace: like I said, thanks for putting that work in for me babes Ava: 😒 why not talk to him Ava: you don't have to see him 24/7 Grace: well duh I'm not about to move in with you Grace: but that's not why I can't Ava: ? Grace: he's like Grace: & I'm like Grace: It's not gonna be a thing Ava: You can't be friends? Grace: 😂😂 no Grace: that's as terrifying OMG Ava: 🙄 he is NOT scary Ava: though he is gonna hate me now probably so loyalties Grace: UM yeah he is Grace: he's nice & so I'm scared of him Grace: @ gym boy too Ava: 🤔 Grace: ugh whatever Ava: You're a nice person, you should hang with other nice people Grace: 🙄🙄 Grace: I've got friends he doesn't need to be one Ava: Okay Ava: not my otp, not gonna push that hard Grace: or ours its fine Grace: he won't be 😭😭😭 Ava: 'Course Ava: gonna have bigger problems to deal with, lbr Ava: 😬 Grace: yeah exactly Grace: maybe we can bond when the wife murders you but like Grace: black isn't my fave tbh can't 🤞 I'll serve my best look Ava: Funny 😏 Ava: she's actually 'out of the country' rn so you should probably watch your back 🔪🔪 Grace: you're so not gonna come visit me now you're 😍😍😍 are you? Grace: are you even doing holiday 2? Ava: time is getting away from us Ava: summer holiday standard Ava: it lowkey has not been organized so god knows now, I wouldn't be mad if it didn't but I wouldn't not go, I guess Grace: depends how they take your homewrecker status Ava: Yep, cheers 👍 Grace: people are shady Ava: Sure Ava: but my actual friend friends will know what's up Ava: everyone else chats about us anyway Grace: true Grace: shoutout to the fam for that one Ava: at least this one is something I actually did so Ava: oh well Grace: anyone who has a clue about his ex will know it's not even you Grace: like sorry hun you killed that 💍 yourself Ava: I'm not too fussed, it's my last year 💁 Grace: #priorities Ava: Exactly Grace: still so triggered by the idea of going back though thanks Grace: school is the WORST Ava: tell me about it Ava: won't miss that place Ava: Chelsea in general moreso but it isn't like I'll be a million miles away Grace: unlike me always a ✈ away Ava: Do you reckon you'll stay in Dublin? Grace: I guess Grace: where else would I go? Ava: You aren't going to make like Billie and Nancy and bounce then? Grace: being a or sleeping with models isn't very likely for me, babes Ava: Models are usually weird looking anyways Ava: oops accidental shade at your sister 🙊 Ava: don't tell Grace: thanks? I think Grace: shade her all you want, I'm about it Ava: How many times have you seen her kid? Grace: Like none Grace: we might get christmas but Ava: this family is messy Ava: watch me get lectured like it ain't Grace: preach Grace: maybe I shouldn't stay here Ava: you could stay or go wherever Ava: everywhere needs beauticians Grace: not Chelsea though, I'd run into your boyfriend's wife Grace: obvs can't escape anyone there Ava: 😂 truly Ava: I don't wanna be far away from the fam Ava: cracked as they are Ava: but that's just me Ava: I guess it isn't automatically selfish to move yourself halfway 'cross the globe hmm Grace: same though, I even miss Junie & like ?? why Grace: never saw him when we lived in the same house Ava: yeah Ava: that whole situation still fucks me off I Ava: idk Ava: I know it's not the kid's fault but I can barely even look at pictures of her Grace: Ri never should've done it Grace: like he didn't need a kid that bad Grace: obvs he didn't actually need one at all but nobody NEEDS one Ava: If they'd been together any amount of time Ava: Junior wasn't 20 fucking years old Ava: it was really stupid Ava: Buster said but oh well Grace: Demi is so Grace: I can't Ava: This family can't seem to help but add more fucked up people into its sphere Ava: like Ro hadn't just brought Drew back, AGAIN Grace: Getting pregnant by accident is one thing, like it's stupid but okay Grace: they planned that Ava: This family has way too many baby hangups dating back to nan Ava: can't blame her for all of this but break the cycle, someone, damn Grace: literally had my contraception on 🔒 since I was 13 thank you Ava: 'Accident' is some bullshit 9/10 times tbh Ava: you knew it was a matter of time, even if you don't know you knew it Grace: @ my mum & dad so hard Ava: and mine, they say the twins were an accident but they probably would've broke up if they hadn't have had them at that time so Grace: mhmmm Ava: ugh Ava: I'm just heated knowing how hard I'm gonna have to defend this Ava: like I've got myself pregnant Grace: don't even joke, she trapped that poor boy so hard like Ava: seriously, he probably never wants kids again Ava: not that I've asked because it's been like a month or so and I'm not psychotic, thanks Grace: do you? not now obvs Ava: I don't know Ava: like, don't tell my mother but I don't actually meticulously plan every aspect of my life Ava: if I ended up at a place and time in my life where it felt right, I could see it Ava: but if I ended up living a different life where they wouldn't fit, I wouldn't and I wouldn't be 💔 about that Grace: 😂🤐 Ava: Do you? Grace: girl, I'm too freaked out to let a boy date me, I don't think it's gonna happen Ava: you won't be 16 forever Ava: and if Ro can manage it Ava: your mum and Drew are probably the only people to see her vaguely undressed in her life Grace: idk sometimes it's all I want & sometimes it's the WORST thing I could think of Ava: I get that Ava: I don't think its a thing you can overthink, 'cos it's not usually right or wrong Ava: so people just do it and have to deal, better or worse Grace: Yeah Grace: maybe I'll get like that with dating Grace: or you know, get so lonely that I won't care that people always leave Ava: 😔 Ava: You'll get there, whether there is living your best life with or without Ava: I'm defs getting left after this fiasco so I'll come 😭 to you in a few no doubt Ava: we're walking Frank rn, so gonna enjoy this whilst it lasts 👌🥰 Grace: UM no! He LOVES you remember, you'll come at me with your 😍 more like Ava: 🤞🤞 Grace: 🙏💜

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katedrakeohd · 5 years ago

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#Wacky Drabbles

Prompt #2. This is what I have to deal with everyday.

For @emceesynonymroll 😊❤

Wacky Drabblers: @jessiembruno @brightpinkpeppercorn @jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @bobasheebaby @burnsoslow

Word count: approx 1000

Find Prompt #1 and the first part of this story here.

=======================

Goose on the Loose

Drake turned off of highway 140 in Klamath Falls and looked for Oneil drive. Although the long drive from Seattle had been full of beautiful mountain scenery that had reminded him of home, he was anxious to get out of the car to stretch his legs. Kate checks the address again on her phone, “It should be coming up right here on the left.”

Nodding, Drake spots the log cabin homestead through the trees. In her last message his Mother-in-law had warned them to watch out for Clem and the girls in the yard. Pulling into the driveway he looks around cautiously for pets or free range poultry, not entirely sure who or what Clem and his entourage were. Halfway to the house, Drake is looking out his window for a safe place to put the car when he hears Kate gasp and then cry out, “Stop! Drake stop!”

Stomping on the brake, he throws the car into Park. “Shit! Did I hit something?”

Kate laughs, undoing her seatbelt to sit forward in her seat and point, “No, look over there.”

Drake frowns craning his neck to see what she's so excited about. A large white goose was chasing a housecat across the yard in a flurry of flapping wings and loud honking.

“I think that might be Clem.”

Kate laughs as the goose catches up with the cat on the doorstep, nipping at the cat's haunches with its bill until it jumps up onto the railing.

“I've heard of having a guard dog in your yard, not a guard goose.” Drake chuckles uneasily. Hopefully he doesn't chase us like that. I'm not in the mood to be goosed by Clem.

Clem honks loudly at the cat, who sits on the railing with its tail twitching angrily and glares back.

Drake leans forward in his seat, his arms crossed over the wheel. He lets out a sigh of frustration, “Ok now what? With the damn goose guarding the doorstep I know I don't want to get out of the car.”

Kate glances at the box of baked goods on the back seat. “Maybe we can lure the goose away from the house with a muffin.”

“So who is going to act as bait while the other makes a run for the house?” Drake dares to ask, knowing it will probably be him.

Kate breaks out into a wide grin and giggles, “Will you be my big brave guy and fight off the killer goose for me?”

“Oh so now it's a killer goose, that's very reassuring.” He scoffs, rubbing at his chin nervously.

“You're great with animals. I'm sure you could wrangle a goose.” Kate responds, trying to boost his confidence.

“Four legged animals Kate, like horses, dogs and the occasional steer. But not birds, they hate me. Are you forgetting about how Tiberius the hawk totally attacked me that first day?” He argues with a sigh.

“Oh it was just a peck, you survived. Haven't you helped Maxwell gather up his stray peafowl before?”

Drake shudders with revulsion, “Please don't mention Max and his damn peacocks. To this day hearing the cry of a peacock gives me the chills.”

Kate leans into the backseat and gets the box from the bakery. She opens it up and sees the half eaten chocolate fudge donut. “Aha! So you did sneak a donut.”

“I'm sorry ok, it was a long drive and the smell of all of those donuts was driving me crazy. Besides there's plenty to go around.”

Kate looks at the muffin options, “What kind do you think a goose would like?”

Drake laughs, “Do I look like the goose whisperer? I haven't a clue.”

He shifts in his seat to see where the goose is. All the honking has stopped and the cat is nowhere in sight either.

Kate gives each of them a sniff and then chooses a bran muffin. “I don't hear anything. Do you think he's gone?”

She hands him the muffin. Drake looks at it dubiously. Maybe if it's dense enough I can throw it at him and knock him out. Because seriously what else were bran muffins good for?

He hands the muffin back to her, “Here, hold onto this I'm going to try to get us closer to the house.”

After putting the car back into gear he drives forward. So far so good.

They don't get far before Clem appears out of nowhere and launches himself onto the hood of the car in a flurry of white flapping honking fury.

“Jesus Christ!” Drake yelps and then slams on the brakes again.

Clem thumps into the windshield with a surprised, “Heeeeoonk!” of his own.

Out of instinct Kate throws her hands up to shield her face, forgetting she's holding the box of baked goods. Donuts and muffins rain down over her head. Both gasping for breath they look at eachother and burst out laughing.

On the hood, Clem has recovered from his impact and is now pecking at the windshield wipers. Drake turns the wipers on out of spite and whacks Clem in the face.

“Hah! Take that you feathered freak!”

Kate gathers up the donuts and muffins that didn't land on the floor and puts them back in the box. “Hey now, that's enough animal abuse. I'm gonna send my Mom an SOS and tell her to call off her goose.”

Drake makes faces and rude gestures at the goose through the windshield as it continues to honk and flap at him. When Clem pecks at the wipers again he honks the horn.

“Oh yeah? I CAN HONK LOUDER THAN YOU PAL!” He shouts back.

Kate shakes her head as she pulls out her phone. After typing in a message she watches the front door. Within a minute the screen door opens and Kate's Mother comes out brandishing a straw broom.

“Cut it out Clem!” She yells, and with a practiced two handed swing she bats the goose off of the hood.

Drake and Kate watch her chase the goose around to the back of the house before they shut off the car and get out. They look around cautiously for other hostile creatures as they follow her around back. They see Lorraine lock Clem up into his pen and then double check the lock.

Straightening back up with a sigh she turns around and then walks over to Drake and Kate. “I'm so sorry. This is what I have to deal with every day with that silly goose now that he's grown so big.”

“Why keep him then?” Drake asks, keeping a keen eye on Clem in case he escapes again.”

“The longer I keep him, the bigger and tastier he'll be come Thanksgiving.” She says with a grin, reaching out to shake Drake's hand.

Drake smiles and shakes her hand, glancing over at Kate. “I love your Mom already.”

Next part here

#wacky drabbles #drakewalker #drake × kate

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dukereviewsmovies · 5 years ago

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Duke Reviews: Furious 6

Hi, Everyone, I'm Andrew Leduc And Welcome To Duke Reviews Where We Are Continuing Our Look At The Fast And Furious Series By Talking About Furious 6...

In This Film, Dom And His Team Are Offered Amnesty For Their Crimes By Hobbs In Exchange For Helping Him Take Down A Skilled Mercenary Organisation, Led By Owen Shaw (Played By Gaston From Beauty And The Beast)

However, Dom And His Team Are More Interested In Getting One Member From Shaw's Team, Namely Letty Ortiz, Dom's Supposedly Dead Girlfriend For Life Who Was Thought To Have Died At The Hands Of Fenix From The Fourth Film. Can Dom And His Team Stop Shaw And Save Letty?...

Let's Find Out By Watching Furious 6...

The Film Starts Where The Last One Left Off With Brian And Dom Racing Once And For All To Find Out Who's The Best...

Or Not...

All Right, Turns Out They Were Just Racing To The Hospital Where Neves Is With Mia, Who Is About To Give Birth, But Of Course, Like All Parents, Brian Has Worries About Being A Father...

About To Go Inside, Dom Tells Brian That Once He's Goes In. He's A Father And Their Old Life Is Over...

This Leads To A Flashback Of The Last 5 Movies Which Roles Slight Credits Before Showing The Title Card And No Offense, I Just Don't Like It, It's Too Long Unnecessary And Annoying To The Point You Want Them To Get To The Story, Thank You!..

It Continues In Moscow, As DDS Agent Luke Hobbs And His New Partner, Riley Hicks (Played By Gina Carano, Who Was Hot On The Remake Of American Gladiators, And Nearly Kicked Colossus's Metal Ass In Deadpool) Who Are At A Site Where A Russian Military Caravan Was Attacked, With The People Behind The Attack Stealing Satellite Components, Leaving Six Hospitalized And Dozens Of Vehicles Destroyed In Under 90 Seconds...

Getting A Call That One Of Them Has Been Caught, Hobbs Goes To Interpol Where He Meets Someone Who Looks Like Dom But It Isn't Him...

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(Start At 0:18)

Getting The Information He Needs, Riley Thinks They Should Pick Up Shaw, But Hobbs Thinks Differently Saying That If You Want To Catch Wolves, You Need Wolves...

This Leads Us Back To Dom Who Is Visited By Hobbs To Tell Him About Shaw But Despite Neves Loading A Gun On Her Former Partner And Telling Him That He Can't Touch Dom, Hobbs Tells Her That He's Not Here To Extradite Anyone Because Dom Is Going To Beg Him To Be Apart Of This Assignment Which Leads Hobbs To Show Dom A Picture Of Letty,..

Giving Him A Few Minutes, Dom Is Shocked By What He Sees Despite Knowing It To Be Impossible But Neves Tells Him That If There Was A Chance Her Husband Was Alive, No Matter How Small, She'd Go...

Uh...You Realize You're Giving Him Permission To Dump You So He Can Go Back To His Old Girlfriend, Right?

Asking For Everything Hobbs Has, He Tells Dom That He'll Give It To Him Once His Team Is Formed But Dom Unfortunately, Dom Wants To Do This Alone. However, Hobbs Says That That's Not Going To Work As They're Fast And If He Goes Alone, He'll Never Touch Them, One Way Or Another, Hobbs Needs His Team...

So, Dom Calls Them As We See Where The Team Is Now, Starting With Roman, Who Is On A Private Plane To Macau To Take 4 Beautiful Women To His Penthouse Suite...

Next Is Tej, Who Is Using His Skills To Play Robin Hood To The People Of A Mexican Village..

And Finally We Have Giselle And Han, Who Are In Either China Or Hong Kong (I Don't Think They're In Tokyo Yet, So It Probably One Of Those) As They Continue Their Worldwide Adventure...

(Giselle) Like My Guns, Guys? I Call Them Batman And Superman...

With Everyone (Except Leo And Rico As They're Too Busy Enjoying Their Money) On Board, Dom Goes To See Brian, Mia And Their Son Who They Named After Dom And Mia's Father, Jack As He Tells Them The News About Letty, But Brian Thinks It's Nothing But A Lie As He Pulled Stuff Like This When He Was A Cop To Get Mess With People's Heads...

But Unable To Let This Go, Brian Wants To Go With Him Despite Dom Saying That Once He Was A Father Their Old Life Was Over But Mia Agrees With Brian Saying That They're Family And If There's A Problem They Deal With It Together Plus, Mia Will Feel Safer Knowing That Brian Is With Dom Because They're Stronger That Way...

Traveling To London...

The Team Reunites, Happy With The Upgrade In Equipment, Though They Do Wonder Who Is Paying For It?...,

Well, You're Working With Wonder Woman And Groot So, Adding The Hulk Can Only Be A Step Up, Roman...

With Hobbs And Riley Entering, Dom Tells Him To Give His Team A Reason To Stay In This Room, Which Leads Hobbs To Tell Them About Shaw...

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(Start At 1:01, End At 3:21)

Later That Night, The Police Send The Person That Hobbs Punched Around At Interpol Into Shaw's Hideout, Completely Wired And Ready To Give Positive ID On Shaw. However As The Man Runs Into Shaw, Alarms Go Off At Interpol Which Leads Dom To Tell Brian To Take The Others There To Stop Whatever Is Happening While Him, Hobbs And Riley Deal With Shaw So He Can Take Him To Letty...

Shaw Gives The Guy A Bag With His Take Of The Last Job Along With A Little Extra Which Just So Happens To Be An Explosive Which Shaw Activates As He's Driving Away In One Of 2 Vehicles That I Like To Call Flippers, Which Are Cars That Can Flip Other Cars It Runs Into...

But As Dom, Riley And Hobbs Go After Shaw In The Flipper, Brian And The Others Arrive At Interpol...

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With Hitting Letty's Car, She Sideswipes As Dom Gets Out Of The Car To Talk With Her Only For Letty To Shoot Dom In The Shoulder...

With Roman Believing That This Entire Thing Has Been Raised To A Whole New Level, Brian Goes Over To Talk With Dom (After Calling Mia To Tell Her That Letty's Alive) To Say That Maybe The Letty They Knew Is Gone But Dom Is Unwilling To Give Up On Her Saying That You Don't Give Up On Family...

Meanwhile At Shaw's Hideout, Letty Returns As Shaw Shows His Crew Pictures Of The People Who Followed Them And Among Them Is A Picture Of Letty With Dom Which Leads The Other Members Of Shaw Crew To Consider Her A Traitor, But Unfortunately, She Has No Clue Who He Is Which Leads Shaw To Believe Her As He Sends His Henchmen To Find Dom And The Others Weaknesses...

Looking At Images Of Shaw's Crew, Roman Realizes That They're Basically Carbon Copies Of Them...

Hobbs And Riley Return With CCTV Footage Of The Raid So They Can See What Shaw's Crew Grabbed From Interpol Which Turns Out To Be Information From A Database That Has Every Location That Might House The Final Component Needed For The Nightshade Device, Which Is About 2,000 Possible Locations...

Only Good News, However Is That The List Is Only Good For 96 Hours, Which Means Wherever They're Gonna Hit, They'll Hit It In About 4 Days...

With Dom Saying That Hobbs Is Right, They Go Over What They Know About Shaw's Team, Starting With The Fact That They Use Custom Engines For The 2 Flipper Cars, So, Dom Sends Han, Roman, Riley And Giselle To Find Out Because If They Find The Guy Who Made Those Cars, They'll Find Shaw...

Also He Wants Tej To Work On Cars That Can't Be Overridden By Computer Chips But Despite Hobbs Saying That DDS R&D Is On It, Tej Says That He Has It Handled As Him And Hobbs Go To An Auction Where A Snooty Person Mistakes Them For Kitchen Staff..

While Han, Roman, Riley And Giselle Go After The Guy Who Designed The Engines For The Flippers In Which Giselle And Riley Decide To Add A Woman's Touch To The Situation...

Well, I Guess, If We Wanted To See Angel Dust From Deadpool And Wonder Woman Team Up, This Is It, Folks...

But As The Girls Show What Girl Power Is All About, Roman Complains About What Giselle Said Before She Left, Only For Han To Defend Her Leads Roman To Realize That Han Is In Love With Giselle...

Asking Nicely About Shaw, The Guy Starts To Get A Little Friendly Which Leads Riley To Use Her Moves On Him So They Can Get The Information They Need...

(Giselle) Now Are We Going To Play Nice Or Am I Going To Have To Use My Lasso Of Truth On You?

Back At HQ, It's Revealed That Tej Bought All The Cars At The Auction, While Back Where Giselle And Riley Are, They Have The Guy Go Get The Information They Want On The Custom Engines But Unfortunately As He Does, He Calls Shaw To Let Him Overhear The Conversation So He Can Send 2 Guys And Letty To Try To Kill Riley And Giselle...

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(Watch Whole Video)

But While All That Went On Brian Traced The Bullet Letty Shot Dom With To A Pawn Shop...

Not That Pawn Shop!

Anyway, They Head There To Try To Get Clues About Letty By Talking With The Owner And It Turns Out That A Street Racer That Matches Letty's Description Came In Here To Buy Everything He Had (Guns, Ammo, The Works) But Unfortunately He Doesn't Know Where She Lives...

Returning To Shaw's Hideout, Letty Tells Him That One Of Their Men Is Dead And He Doesn't Care, Stating That He Made A Mistake And He Paid The Price For It..

Wow, Great Philosophy On Death, Pal...

With Giselle And The Others Returning To HQ, We Learn That The CCTV Footage Came Back To Reveal Nothing As Anywhere Shaw And His Guys Are The Cameras Are Out, This Leads Riley And Hobbs To Head Out To Investigate While Giselle Breaks The News Of Braga's Involvement With Shaw To Dom And Brian...

With Both Of Them In Shock At This Discovery, They Realize It's Impossible, But When Coded Payment Transactions To Braga's Cartel Is Discovered They Realize It's True...

Only Problem Now Is That In Order To Get To Braga, One Of Them Has To Go To Jail To Talk To Him, This Leads Brian To Put His Foot Forward Because He Feels Guilty For Getting Letty Involved With Braga's Organization And He Wants To Make It Right...

While Hobbs And Riley Deal With CCTV Which Was Again Offline Of The Robbery, Brian Goes To LA To Meet With His Old FBI Nemesis, Stasiak, Who's Only Helping Him To Get Credit For Taking Down Shaw...

Yeah, And You're A Bigger Asshole, Pal...

Anyway, Stasiak Tells Brian That He's Going Into Victorville To Go After Braga For A 24 Hour Hold After That He Has To Be Out By 9 AM Which Is When Forensics Will Run His Fingerprints Into The National Database Which Will Blow His Cover To The Point That Stasiak Will Not Be Able To Get Him Out...

Telling Brian That Braga Is In D Level Which Is Solitary, Brian Is Going To Have To Do Something To Gain His Attention Which Leads Him To Break Stasiak's Nose Again!...

Back In London, Tej Hooks Up His Connection To Every CCTV Camera In The City To Their Main Computer To The Point If Shaw Even Makes A Move, They'll Know About It, Leads Us To Wacky Hijinks With Roman, As He Checks Out Tej's Latest Weapon, A High Tensile Titanium Cable Launcher Which He Nearly Kills Dom With...

But After That, Dom Hears From Han That A Street Race Going On That Night...

But As That's Going On, Braga Visits Brian's Cell That Night With 2 Other Guys Who Are There To Kill Him...

You Know What Would Have Made This Scene A Little Bit More Interesting? How About Instead Of Just 2 Other Guys Braga Had Carter Verone And Johnny Tran's Brother, Lance With Him To Get Revenge For What Brian Did To Them, Plus It Would Have Shown More Of What Happened To These Characters After Brian Arrested Them....

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(Start At 0:55)

So, With Brian On His Way To The U.K., Dom Goes To The Street Race That Han Told Him About And Wouldn't You Know It? Letty's There, So He Decides To Race Her...

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(Start At 1:38)

Pulling Over To Talk, Letty Tells Dom That He May Know How She Races But That Doesn't Mean That He Knows Her As A Person To Which Dom Recites A Saying He Knows "Show Me How You Drive, And I'll Show You Who You Are"...

Asking What He Knows About Her, Dom Tells Her Some Stories About Some Scars She Has On Her Body...

Uh, Dom, No Offense, But On The List Of Things I Would Talk About With An Amnesiac Person, Scars Would Not Be On The Top Of My List...

Including One, She Got From Her First Street Race Where She Raced Against Some Kid (Who Happened To Be Dom) Who Tried Showing Off, Only To Lose Control Of His Car, Sideswiping Right Into Her To The Point She Could've Lost Her Arm...

Wow, A Love Story For The Ages...

But Despite Telling Her This, Letty Tells Dom He's Over His Head And That She's Not The Girl That He Remembers But Dom Doesn't Believe That Because Of What He Just Saw...

Dom Gives Letty Her Necklace Back Before She Drives Off, Which Is When Shaw Enters To Talk With Dom..

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(Watch Whole Video)

Calling It A Stalemate For Now, Shaw Drives Off As Hobbs Gets Off Of The Roof To Tell Dom That If He Hadn't Placed A Tracker In His Car, He'd Be Dead...

Returning To His HQ, Shaw Notices Letty's Necklace Which Leads Him To Question Her Loyalty...

Working With Tej, Hobbs And Riley Are Able To Find Shaw's Location, But When They Arrive Its Completely Empty, However, They Do Find Paint In The Building Which Tej Analyzes To Be Highly Specialized Anti-Thermal IR Coating For The Military To Which Tej Gives Hobbs And Riley A List Of Bases That Uses It And Cross References With Shaw's Military Targets And Surprise, It's A NATO Base In Spain...

So, With An 8 Hour Lead Ahead Of Them, Hobbs And Riley Decide To Drive Ahead To The Base To Lock It Down...

With Brian Returning From LA, They Fill Him In On Shaw Before Brian Goes To Talk To Dom Where He Admits That The Entire Thing Was His Fault But Dom That The Past Is The Past And What They're Doing Now Is For Her...

With The Base Locked Down, Riley Finds One Of Shaw's Men, Which Forces Hobbs To Take Extreme Precautions By Deciding To Move The Component Out Of The Base

Hearing From Tej That Hobbs Caught One Of Snow's Men, Brian Starts Thinking Something Not Right As He Tells The Team What Braga Told Him Which Immediately Makes Dom Realize That Shaw's Not Going After The Base But The Convoy...

With Their Thoughts Being Dead On, Dom And The Others Arrive As Shaw, Letty And His Crew Are Taking The Convoy But Unfortunately They Have A Bigger Problem...

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(Start At 2:03, End At 4:22)

Going After The Tank, Shaw Starts Crushing Cars Which Gets Letty To Start Having Second Thoughts As It Wasn't Part Of The Plan, And Unfortunately One Of Those Crushed Cars Is Roman's But Luckily He Jumps Into Brian's Car In The Last Minute, But Shaw's Going To Wish He Didn't Crush Roman's Car As It's Now Dragging Behind Him...

Which Gives Dom And His Team An Opportunity To Use It Like An Anchor, Realizing He May Have A Problem Shaw Sends Letty To Cut The Car But Managing To Get The Car Hooked, The Tank Abruptly Stops, Causing Letty To Go Flying, Realizing She's In Danger Dom Decides To Jump After Her To Save Her...

I Don't Know Maybe Vin Diesel's Role In The Iron Giant Went To His Head...

Either That Or Dom's Seen Titanic Too Many Times...

But Either Way Letty Is Saved, The Tank Is Stopped, Shaw Is Arrested And They Have The Chip...

Returning To The Base, The General Wants Letty Arrested But Dom And The Others Stand By Her Saying She's One Of Them. After The General Leaves, Brian Tells Letty How She Lost Her Memory And If Anyone's To Blame For It, It's Him, But Letty Simply Tells Him That While She May Not Remember Anything She Knows One Thing, Nobody Makes Her Do Anything She Doesn't Want To Do...

Talking With Dom Shortly After, Letty Asks Dom If He Knew That When He Jumped To Save Her That There Would Be A Car There To Break Their Fall, And The Truth Is He Didn't, It Was Just A Leap Of Faith...

With Riley And Hobbs Entering With Shaw, Hobbs Tells Him That Shaw Has Something To Say To Him...

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(Start At 0:33, End At 3:53)

Making A Phone Call To His Henchmen To Kill Mia While In The Car, Shaw Is Callblocked By Tej Who Has Jammed The Signal For Miles,

Following Shaw And Riley, The Team Watches As A Giant Airplane Lands On The Tarmac, Which They Get On Board With Dom, Brian, Letty And Hobbs Soon After As They Fight Riley, Shaw And His Henchmen While The Others Figure Out Away To Keep The Plane On The Ground...

Sending Some Of His Henchmen After The Others To Keep Them From Hitting The Wing Flaps To Lower The Plane While Brian Gets Mia Off The Plane While Hobbs And Dom Deals With Shaw And His Henchmen And Letty Deals With Riley...

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(End At 6:42)

(Sarcastically) Oh, No! They Can't Kill Dom, The Franchise Will Be Dead Without Him...

Is He...?

He's Alive!

So, With Giselle Dead (Only For Her Spirit To Be Reborn On Themyscira So She Can Become Wonder Woman) Dom Gives Hobbs The Chip Which Leads Hobbs To Ask Dom To Name His Price To Which Dom Answers 1327, Which To Them Is Home...

So, With Their Lives Back To Normal, Home And All, Han Decides To Go To Tokyo Saying It's Something He Has To Do And As Hobbs Delivers Their Pardons To Them, Neves Decides To Step Aside, Simply Saying To Dom That He Has His World And She Has Hers. Asking Letty If Anything Looks Familiar? She Says No, But It Feels Like Home...

I Would Say That That Wraps The Film Up But We Get A Mid-Credits Scene That Ties The 3rd Film, Tokyo Drift To The Next Movie, Furious 7, We See Han Trying To Get Away From The Bad Guy Of The 3rd Film, DK, Only To Be Hit By An Unknown Driver Who Is Revealed Here As Deckard Shaw (Played By Jason Statham) Who Is The Brother Of Owen Shaw From This Film Who Leaves Letty's Necklace Behind At The Crime Scene While Leaving A Message For Dom On His Phone While He Walks Away From The Crime Scene, Telling Dom That He Doesn't Know Who He Is, But He Will...

And That's Furious 6 And It Was A Good Film...

The Story Was Good, The Characters Were Good, The Villain Was Way Better Than The Villain In The Last Movie I Mean At Least This One Tried To Be Both A Threat And A Person That Shouldn't Be Messed With Where With Reyes You Got None Of That Really Also, I Loved The Location With London And I Would Love The Film Series To Do More Stuff In The United Kingdom (Maybe In The French Riviera) And After That I Don't Know What Else To Say About This Film Except See It..,

Till Next Time, This Is Duke, Signing Off..

#fast and furious 6 #the fast and the furious #vin diseal #paul walker #jordana brewster #michelle rodriguez #dwayne the rock johnson #tyrese gibson #ludacris #gal gadot #luke evans

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caranfindel · 6 years ago

Text

Recap/review 14.06: “Optimism”

THEN: Starts out pretty ominous, with clock-ticky music, Jack's grace getting sucked out, "this is the end of everything," and Jack considering himself useless. We're reminded that New Charlie exists (aw, Dean looked so pretty in AU Land) and Jack has "the mind of a hunter." Michael hurting people and Dean feels guilty (aw, Sam's Beard of Despair, how I miss you). Sounds like we're in for a real downer of an episode, friends.

NOW: Nebraska. Happy music. A cheerful librarian opens up shop, and she's cute as can be but I wore that blouse in the 80s and it needs to stay there (JUST SAY NO TO THE RUFFLED YOKE, LADIES). Her name is Harper, and she has a kind-of-date with a guy named Winston tonight, though she is clearly Not Into You, Winston. An (apparent) coworker named Miles hears her "scream" and comes to her aid, brandishing a stapler, and is reminded that he needs to mind his own business. Winston leaves, clearly walking on air, and then STAYIN' ALIVE STARTS PLAYING and we focus on Winston's feet just like the iconic opening scene of Saturday Night Fever (if you're too young to remember, watch this, IT'S IMPORTANT CULTURAL KNOWLEDGE and there WILL BE A QUIZ LATER) and y'all don't even know how much I love this song. YOU DON'T KNOW. I can't help it. My mom was a huge Bee Gees fan, partially because she was very into Barry Gibb.

Coincidence?

What can I say? I am my mother's child.

Now, where were we?

(Pretty much where we always are, so could you please just move this along?)

Sorry for the digression. Anyway. Now I suspect this isn't going to be a downer episode after all. (Turns out it was directed by Richard Speight, which would have been a clue if I'd known that earlier, bless him.) While I've been digressing, Winston has happily bopped down the street, only to have a hand cover his mouth and drag him off-screen. There's a record scratch and a squirt of dark goo and a scream, so I guess it did turn out to be a downer for Winston, but not for me.

Title card!

{Sidebar: I didn't realize Saturday Night Fever was directed by John Badham, who went on to direct several episodes of Supernatural.}

Jack's drinking coffee in the bunker. He takes a sip and then pours a huge amount of sugar into it, which immediately makes me think of this scene from The Fly when Jeff Goldblum, who does not yet realize that he is turning into a fly, does the same thing.

(Spoiler alert: Ahem.)

Dean walks in and asks what he's doing, and Jack explains that everything tastes different without his powers, and he can't get the coffee to taste the way he likes it. That's because coffee is nasty, Jack. (And also, thanks to the Continuity Fairy for remembering that food tasted different to Cas when he didn't have grace.) Dean asks if Jack has seen Sam, because that's what Dean does; he probably walked in the door and felt a disturbance in the Force and realized he didn't know where Sam was. From Jack, we learn that (1) Dean went on an overnight run to Mobby's love shack cabin and (b) Sam went on a hunt with Charlie without telling Dean. Is Dean okay with this? Are we gonna okay with this? Couldn't he have at least sent a text message? He's supposed to be setting an example!

"Explain to me again how you just let Sam LEAVE."

I guess Sam had to go himself, rather than send someone else, because this is one of those times when there's no random hunters in the bunker. (And where's Rowena? Did Charlie abandon her in the Southwest? Did they have a fight?) Jack imagines Sam and Charlie are doing something "really exciting."

Cut to Sam and Charlie sitting quietly in a truck outside Memphis, bored out of their minds. Hee! It's the kind of crappy old truck I always want Sam to drive, so I love it. They're staring at a bus stop with an ad for Pete the Pestinator, who seems to be an insect exterminator. (Spoiler alert: ahem again.) Sam confirms that "this is where all those people went missing," although if he's been sitting in that truck long enough to be bored, he really should have nailed that down by now. Charlie says "yep." More silent sitting.

Back to the bunker. Dean seems surprised that Sam left Jack there alone (where's Cas?) and Jack says "Sam wanted someone around when you came back. He's worried about you."

"Yeah, that sounds like him," Dean grumbles, and hello, kettle, the pot just called, and said you're black. Jack offers some encouragement, telling him no one blames him for Michael, and Dean says "Cool. Well, I blame me, so." His self-flagellation is interrupted by Jack's Cough of Great Concern. "Maybe I'm allergic to sitting around doing nothing," Jack snarks.

Dean sits down for a heart-to-heart, and Jack says he's been hunting with Cas and wants to do more. Dean says "No offense, Cas is an insurance policy on those hunts." Jack looks hurt. I don't understand this at all. Why wouldn't Jack already know that Cas is there to protect him? And why would this hurt his feelings? I'm so confused. But I immediately forget it, because Dean says "Sam's just trying to keep you safe, okay? He's a smart guy." AND THEN WE CUT TO THIS.

Bless you, Richard Speight, writer Steve Yockey, bless you both.

I literally did burst out laughing at Sam and his fidget spinner. Charlie is not amused, and Sam puts his toy away with some embarrassment.

Bunker. Jack's found a report on our dead friend Winston, who seemed to have human bitemarks taken out of his corpse. And others have gone missing in the area. We skip part of a conversation, but whatever it was, Dean says Sam won't like it. "Sam's not here," says Jack. Oh, no you don't, Jack. Don't you go ignoring the Chief's directives just because he's not here. Dean says he'll go check it out alone, but Jack suddenly remembers Sam's Law and reminds Dean about the Buddy System.

We can be hunting buddies!

Okay, uh, (a), don't call it that, and (b), YOU'RE gonna back ME up?

Oh, Dean. You didn't do the (1) and (b) thing that I love so much. Jack gets to be the one to bare a little bit of his soul now, telling Dean that he also feels guilty about Michael, because he could have killed him but he was "distracted and stupid." He doesn't want to sit around feeling guilty all day, he wants to hunt.

Looks like that was the right button to push, because we cut to Sam on the phone, clearly not a fan of the plan and telling Dean to be careful. I assume his reluctance is because he doesn't trust Jack to watch Dean's back. But Sam, if you can trust Maggie to hunt alone, you can trust Dean with a novice backup. (I know, I know, Dean is more important than Maggie.)

Sam asks again if Charlie is sure this is the right place, and she says it's where four people disappeared. And while she was scouting around, she found a mason jar full of goo. Is this the same goo we saw when Winston was killed? (Spoiler alert: no.) And now she's trying to figure out what they're hunting, so she's reading. I'd have done my reading before the stakeout, but that's just me. (I'd also have done some reading instead of sitting there glaring at Sam while he enjoyed his fidget spinner, but that's also just me.)

(I also might have thought of more interesting things to do while I was stuck in a car with Sam, but they would have interfered with the stakeout. And they aren't anything Charlie would have been interested in anyway.)

Cut to Dick's Red Rooster Diner (ha ha, I see you, Speight). According to Winston's obituary, he had breakfast here every morning. Jack agrees with me that it's an odd thing to put in an obituary, but Dean says that when someone dies young, you don't know what to put in those things. (Oh, think of 20-something Dean's obituary.) He introduces them to the waitress as Agents Berry and Charles, and the only thing I can think of is Chuck Berry, so if someone has a better idea, let me know. He asks for details about Winston, and the only detail she can provide is that he's dead. Jack dutifully writes that detail in his little notebook. (BLESS.)

This waitress is wonderfully snippy, knows her rights, and isn't the least bit interested in talking to these FBI agents, but when Dean hands her some cash she changes her mind. She says they should should be more interested in Harper, who Winston just started "courting," and Jack is confused.

What's courting?

It's what you do before you start dating.

Ah, and that's the thing you do before the sex.

Sometimes you just have the sex.

Okay, Dean's wrong, courting is what you do instead of dating, but this is still a wonderful exchange. And the next part is wonderful too, cutting between the waitress and some customers explaining that Harper was popular in high school, but her boyfriend ran off, and now all these men connected to her have died, and she's really into romance books, and ending on I've heard too much Dean and I'm confused Jack.

Love this.

Back at the stakeout, Sam's biting his nails, which I also love for some reason, and of course the only time we've ever seen him bite his nails was when he was worried about Dean. New Charlie picks right up on it. She tells him Dean will be fine, and comments that he's got other friends, right? Which I don't understand, because it doesn't matter what other friends he has, he's not hunting with them. He's hunting with Jack. "He used to have a pretty damn good wingman," Sam says, and I think no, Sam, what are you saying, he still has you. She says he should call "that guy" to check on him, and Sam says "that guy was you." Charlie gives him a look. "No, it wasn't." And she's right, Sam. SHE IS NOT YOUR CHARLIE. And also, was Charlie ever really Dean's wingman? I don't think so. Sam, of course. Cas, literal wingman. But not Charlie. Charlie was the little sister.

Sam apologizes, and then says "I'm just saying, I'm not surprised you survived the apocalypse." Which isn't what you were saying at all, Sam. Charlie is surprised she survived, because she was just a programmer at Richard Roman Enterprises (Dick Roman! I wonder what happened to your AU version), living with the love of her life, Cara. My heart skipped a beat because I was so ready, guys, for the love of Charlie's life to be Dr. Cara Roberts from Sex and Violence, but apparently not. {Sidebar fic prompt: Sam. Charlie. Dr. Cara. Three-way.) Charlie's Cara was a baker. Charlie tells a sad story about waiting for help that never came, and Cara eventually being killed by people, not angels. Society falls apart. (Or, as Dean once said, demons I get; people are crazy.) Sam insists society isn't falling apart here, and Charlie says "not yet."

Just like last week, we're getting some needed differentiation between the characters we lost and their AU counterparts, which I appreciate.

I also appreciate pretty, attentive, sympathetic Sam.

Diner. Dean calls Jack "Mighty Mouse," for some reason, and congratulations him on finding a case. He tries to teach him about the importance of pie, but Jack's more interested in courting. He's never been exposed to off-screen romance, unless Gabriel and Rowena counts (Dean assures him it doesn't, but how would Jack have been exposed to Gabriel/Rowena anyway, since it happened while he was in AU Land and Gabriel didn't make it back?) Dean promises he'll give him The Talk when they get back, but right now they need to concentrate on finding Harper. {Sidebar fic prompt: Dean's and Sam's versions of The Talk. Would Dean's be like Dean's speech from Rock and a Hard Place?} Jack speculates she might not be human, and Dean says they're going to find out, and it's going to work like a romance novel. Hmm!

Cut to the library, where Harper is working. Dean enters and identifies himself as FBI, with questions about Winston. She doesn't want to talk, and he pushes. Then Jack shows up, asking for a book about the area's history, and defends her against the big mean FBI guy. Dean says "why don't you back off, kid" and Jack responds "No, you back off, old man" and DEAN'S FACE. This was clearly NOT IN THE SCRIPT. I love it. Dean slinks off, dejected, to examine his gracefully-aging face in the rear-view mirror. {Sidebar: I honestly think Jensen is aging a lot better than Dean is. Dean looks tired a lot of the time, and I'd like to believe Show is doing that on purpose, but I don't think it's the case. Jensen always looks awesome.} Harper is delighted, and apparently smitten, judging by the music. Jack introduces himself as "Jack Smith" and she invites him to her apartment, where she has the perfect book.

Why does this library have those convenience store perp measurements at the door? Does it get robbed a lot? Also, how many episodes have signs in the background with the title of a different episode? Not very many, I'm guessing.

As they leave, Miles the Stapler Guy follows and asks where she's going. It must be close to closing time, because Harper says she'll come back and lock up. Miles, who's carrying a bag of trash, refuses to shake Jack's hand. As Jack and Harper go one way, he stomps off in the other direction. I'm suspicious, and so is Dean, who gets out of the car to follow him. As Miles puts the library's trash in an inappropriately small residential bin, he hears a noise. We then cut to Dean, who hears Miles scream but just keeps walking? But then a trash can is knocked over and that gets his attention. He finds Miles dead, and we get a monster POV shot watching him.

Stakeout. Charlie's still reading. Apparently she brought all the books. She says she hates hunting, which surprises Sam, because she's so good at it. She points out that she's good at it because the alternative was death. "I mean, no offense, but who wants to be a hunter? This job, just a lot of tears and death."

Sam says "you said something like that to me once, long ago, about hunting." He quickly apologizes for once again conflating her with Our Charlie. At first I was annoyed at him, but then I started thinking about how awful Our Charlie's death was for him, with the MoC, and the fear, and the worry, and the guilt, and his brother saying he should be the one on the funeral pyre instead, and you know what? I'm gonna cut him some slack for trying to forget all of that ever happened. A lot of slack, in fact.

Charlie casually drops that she's glad this is her last hunt. Did you give the Chief your two week's notice, Charlie? I DON'T THINK SO. She plans to get away from monsters and people, and "live on a mountaintop or something... as long as there's good wifi." I'm sure Sam can get you set up with his magical wifi, Charlie, if you stay on his good side.

Harper's apartment. She seems to be all about love, with a decorative "amore" sign in the kitchen and a big red heart hanging on the wall. She suddenly realizes it's weird that she brought him to her apartment, though she's thinking "putting the moves on you" weird and I'm thinking "inviting a potential serial killer into your home" weird. But maybe I listen to too much My Favorite Murder.

She leaves the room to get the book (odd that it's not on the stuffed bookshelves in her living room, but they're all full of romance novels). Jack asks why the FBI was "hassling" her, and she tells him about Winston's death as he surreptitiously puts a silver coin on the floor and splashes holy water all over his hands. A call comes from Dean, but he ignores it. When she comes back with the book, she notices the coin on the floor and picks it up. She touches his hand when she gives him the coin and notices that it's wet. I would have put the holy water on the coin, although a wet coin on the floor might be as weird as wet hands. He just laughs weirdly and then does a fake cough AND SAYS CHRISTO. SOMEONE FINALLY REMEMBERED CHRISTO. Oh, my heart. I've been waiting 13 years for this moment. She doesn't react to it, so she seems pretty human. He says he's nervous, so she sits on the couch and pats the seat next to her.

Stakeout. Charlie has found something in the books called a Musca. Sam already knows it's a man-fly hybrid (IT'S THE FLY; OUR MONSTER IS JEFF GOLDBLUM) and that no one's seen them, so if they do exist, they keep to themselves. She's impressed with his Sammy smarts. He says he's read all the books, but if he'd read this one, he'd know that every few hundred years a male Musca can't find a mate and he "abandons his community and starts using people's bodies to nest, binding them together with a viscous goo." Ew.

As they walk, in the background we see a figure approaching the two women who are sitting on the bus stop bench. It's clothed in black, carrying a black briefcase, and it has a giant head. At first I think it's literally a giant fly's head. But when Charlie notices it, we get a closer look, and it's a large black hood, like a beekeeper's outfit. It sits down and then casually scoots closer to the women, who scoot away, and it's hilarious.

Harper's apartment. She asks Jack where he's from, and he tells her he lives in Lebanon, Kansas. NO, JACK. DON'T TELL ANYONE WHERE YOU LIVE. Jack coughs some more and then notices a picture of Harper with her boyfriend, Vance. She says he left town after high school because he wanted to see the world, and Jack seems astonished that anyone would leave her. And that was when her bad luck started, but she tries to stay optimistic. "Me too," Jack says. "I had some not-so-great stuff happen in my past. Trying to be positive... it can be hard." Oh, Jack, sweetie. They gaze into each other's eyes and it looks like they're going to kiss. Jack's phone buzzes with a text from Dean that says CALL ME NOW.

Jack? Do you believe in love at first sight?

Do you... (music swells)... mind if I use the bathroom?

Ha!

Jack hides in the bathroom to call Dean. He tells him Harper isn't a monster, and he thinks she's in love with him. Although Dean's sure that's not the case, Jack says "but if she is, I need to know everything about sex. Go." Ha again! Dean tells him about Miles's death, which makes Jack wonder if she's cursed. Dean says it's more like all the guys around her are cursed. "Like me," Jack ponders, just before we get another monster POV shot and a strangled shout from Dean. The phone goes dead.

Jack comes back into the living room and Harper asks if he's okay and if he wants to go for coffee. Then the door bursts open and Dean comes in, and I wonder why she's freaking out until I remember that Dean is Bad FBI Guy to her. He quickly blocks the door and tell her they're here to save her from... whatever it is that's suddenly growling and banging on her door. "At first I thought it was a ghost," he says, "but then it punched me in the face." She's freaked out about a ghost, but Jack reassuringly (NOT!) tells her that he's saying it's NOT a ghost. Dean recognizes a photo and it turns out the monster is her old boyfriend Vance, who she didn't even realize was dead.

For some reason Dean isn't carrying a lot of weapons, but he has a silver knife and finds a silver letter opener on Harper's desk. Silver will slow it down, he tells them, but there's only one way to kill the undead boyfriend. Vance breaks the door down before we learn what that is. Dean starts fighting with the silver knife and tells Jack to get Harper out of there.

Stakeout. It's nighttime now. A lone man sits at the bus stop as Sam tries to convince Charlie that she can't drop out of society. She needs people, and also, it's hard to walk away from being a hunter. "I tried. Our Charlie tried." You know, for someone who did want out of hunting, and did try to get out of it, Sam spends a lot of time convincing others to do it, or at least enabling them. I mean, Dean was all "Patience, if you can live a normal life, do it," and Sam was all "well, Claire, if you're gonna hunt, I guess I should show you how to hack." Although that (and teaching Ghoul!Adam to shoot) was more about protecting someone determined/forced to be a hunter than recruiting. So maybe I don't know what I'm talking about. Anyway, if anyone recognized the futility of getting out of the life, it would be him.

Jeff Goldblum shows up again and sits by his next victim. Charlie wants to go for the kill, but Sam thinks they should wait for him to make his move, in case he's just into weird fashion. Look, Sam, if a guy likes wearing a black beekeeper's bonnet and sidling up to random strangers at bus stops, he deserves to be hunted, whether or not he's actually part bee. When the bus shows up, it blocks their view of the duo. When it leaves, the bench is empty. Which could mean they just got on the bus, but we see something disappearing behind the stop. Sam decides it's a go after all.

Let's stick with this story, rather than cutting back and forth between them like the show did.

Sam and Charlie find a door with a bunch of goo on the handle. Sam says Charlie found something in the books that theorized a brass nail dripped in sugar water would kill a musca. Because yes, of course sugar water, WHICH FLIES EAT, would kill a fly man. (Rolls my eyes at this otherwise delightful episode.) Charlie reminds him they have neither of those things. "So we get creative," Sam says. I'm expecting some kind of MacGuyvering involving a can of Coke, or Sam's sugary coffee. (Spoiler alert: I'm wrong.)

{Sidebar: Why are all the methods of killing monsters so weirdly specific? Chopping off the head should kill ANYTHING.}

They go through the door, which surprisingly leads them into an abandoned warehouse. It's full of flies (normal ones, not half-man flies) and smells like pine cleaner and rotting meat. Yum. Eventually Sam finds the briefcase, which is full of what looks like candy wrappers and also has a white cloth, which he sniffs to discover chloroform. Dude. Don't sniff the chloroform rag. Charlie finds the most recent victim, still alive, by a pile of bodies. Something grabs Charlie's hand. She pulls loose, but falls off a low platform (seriously, it's like two feet high) and... loses consciousness? Okay. Maybe he chloroformed her and I missed it. I'm old and decrepit and this would have barely bruised me. He must have chloroformed her.

Sam tries to wake her up, but is interrupted by the WORST MONSTER COSTUME EVER. Oh god, you guys, this fly man head is so bad. SO BAD.

{Sidebar: Did you know that you don't see much of the shark in Jaws because the model was so bad, Steven Spielberg decided he wanted to shoot it as little as possible? And it actually made the movie better because the unseen monster was so much scarier? Just saying, Speight.}

(Um, have you watched any movies that were made before 1980?)

Well, that was uncalled for.

Jeff Goldblum attacks Sam and gets goo on him, and if this were really a fly, wouldn't that goo be digesting him? Isn't that how flies eat? (Why yes, it is.) Charlie regains consciousness and stabs it with something, which gets it off Sam long enough for him to shoot it in the head. Creativity in action! So, I guess I got my wish. Interesting that, just like last week, the guys figured out that there are actions that will kill anything.

Aftermath! Charlie and Sam are driving, and Sam says he feels bad for the Musca, which could have been happy if it had stayed home with its people. Subtle, Sam. Charlie's all, yeah, okay, I'm like the bug, except not so much. As we see the Musca family coming to retrieve their brother's body, Sam asks Charlie not to leave. "If we help people, then maybe they'll help people, and all that, and that's worth it. Even with all the tears and death, it's worth it." Oh, Sammy. {sniff} She says she'll think about it.

Back to Jack and Harper. It was broad daylight when they got to her apartment, so I don't know why it's nighttime now. How long did he spend in the bathroom? No wonder she asked if he was okay. Cut to Dean gleefully fighting the zombie, who suddenly stops fighting and runs off.

Jack and Harper run to the library, where she struggles with the keys until Jack remembers she left without locking the door. They scurry inside and he locks it. As they hide behind the counter, they see Zombie Vance run by. Jack tells her not to worry, because he locked the door, and she asks if he flipped the switch under the lock? Obviously he didn't, and she goes to do it herself. As she stands, looking out the door, Vance shows up. She unlocks the door, which Jack obviously DID lock, and opens it. He hands her the history book - I guess Jack dropped it - and they kiss.

Um. whoops. Vance is actually still Harper's boyfriend. And he has to eat human flesh. Like, Jack's, for example. Vance lunges for Jack, who hides in the stacks as Harper gives him the villain dialogue over the library's PA system. She likes Jack, but he's obviously a hunter, and she comes from a long line of necromancers, so it would never work out between them. She killed Vance to keep him from leaving after high school, and killing every other guy in her sights is just a fun little romantic roleplay for them. We get a little scare when a hand appears on Jack's shoulder (been a lot of that going around lately), but it's Dean. He tells Jack they have to get Vance back into his grave and then drive a stake into his heart to keep him there. And they're going to convince him using another romance novel method.

Jack tells her he wants to do things Vance can't do - walk her down the aisle, raise a family. This draws Vance out, who lunges at him but finds himself facing Dean. Vance gets Dean against a wall, and Harper calls out to him. Dean thinks she's going to call him off, but she says "Baby, kill him!" and Dean's "huh" look is precious to me. Instead, Dean slaps a handcuff on his arm and cuffs him to a pole or something. Jack cuffs his other arm to a library cart, I think, which is mobile and therefore defeats the purpose of cuffing, but good try, Jack. The cuffs burn Vance, so they're silver or enchanted or something. Seems like a successful hunt, but when the guys look up, the door is open and Harper is gone.

Later we see Harper and her suitcase at a cafe, writing a letter to Jack. So she had time to go home and pack a suitcase, and Dean and Jack didn't go to her apartment and look for her? Guys. Come on. She's sorry she's going to have to kill Jack, but it means she can bring him back to life and they'll be together forever. See you soon, she writes, sealing the envelope addressed to Jack Smith, c/o the Lebanon, Kansas post office. I TOLD YOU NOT TO LET HER KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE, JACK. Is Harper going to be a Big Bad this season? Or maybe a Little Bad? I wouldn't mind seeing her again. She's a charming little villain.

Finally, Jack's drinking coffee again, probably with a lot of sugar, in the bunker. This scene, with them facing each other, is a nice callback to the beginning of the episode. Dean tells Jack he did good, and Jack pushes for more hunts, because he was right. It's not about being right, Dean tells him, it's about what you do after you're wrong, after you've made a mistake. And about not beating yourself up, Jack points out. Dean tells him he's pretty smart, and Jack smiles and coughs and Dean promises to talk about getting him on more hunts when Sam gets back (BECAUSE SAM IS THE ONE TO ASK, YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT) and Jack lies about being fine and then coughs some more and shows Dean his bloody palm and collapses on the floor with blood oozing from his mouth and nose and WELL. THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY.

And the episode ends, without Sam and Dean sharing a single scene. Has that happened before? It's unsettling. I like the ep, though. I liked the relationship focus - Sam bonding with New Charlie, Dean bonding with Jack. I liked the humor. I liked that Sam wasn't ignored, even though the brothers had separate storylines. I liked the continuation of things that have been happening this season, the gentle reminder (but not constant siren) of Dean's guilty feelings and Sam's leadership and Jack's issues. And, of course, CHRISTO!

And there was one weird thing I noticed on first watch, but it didn't jump out at me on rewatch so I don't remember when it happened... Dean said "Son of a B." This is the second episode where they said something weird instead of bitch. What's going on there? Is Dean never going to say "son of a bitch" again? Because that's not good.

What did you guys think? And please help me stay unspoiled; thanks!

#spn #14.06 #tv recaps #recap #spoilers

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